October 26, Thursday
Finished painting yesterday and it all looks as if it was never any different, but I didn’t realise just how tired I was going to be feeling, so haven’t really been doing much except sitting in the chair dozing like a pensioner. I need to take it easy as I feel fine but obviously the chemo has an effect. I should try to break the habit of an entire lifetime and conserve my energy, as Helen has advised.
October 27, Friday
After much deliberation I have sent Mr Monypenny a letter. I’m not sure about the appropriateness of sending your surgeon a thank-you card but I feel compelled to do so and I wonder if, because he is a top surgeon and could be seen as a bit scary, many people do thank him. So here it is:
Dear Mr Monypenny,
I wanted to write to you personally to thank you for everything you and your team have done for me over the past few months. Obviously, having saved my life, there is a gratitude that words cannot express and you have put me well and truly on the road to recovery because of your brilliance as a surgeon.
A diagnosis of cancer is devastating for anyone and their families but I don’t really view it in those terms, as it has given me a chance to re-evaluate my life in a way that I may never have had the opportunity to do otherwise. You and your team are instrumental in buying me the time when I can put all these new thoughts into practice and live life with my husband and two young children with renewed vigour because of this experience.
Throughout my treatment you made me feel as if I mattered, as if I was unique, and you listened to what I had to say and respected it. In short, you made me feel like I was an individual, not just another patient in a very large case-load. It is also those qualities that make you a brilliant surgeon.
Thank you.
I bought a very nice John Knapp Fisher card and sent it immediately in case I changed my mind.
October 30, Monday
Ah, shit, bugger, shit, my hair is coming out in handfuls almost three weeks to the day since I had my first chemo and there was I, thinking I was fucking invincible. At this rate it will all be out by the end of the week. I don’t like it, I want it back. I am going to look like shit shit shit. Rhodri said, ‘Just think how great Kylie looks, now her hair has grown back.’ I did point out that I was about six dress sizes bigger than Kylie and that she is probably one of the few women on the planet who can pull that off and she is a pocket-sized princess of pop superstardom. The only other one is Sinead O’Connor and she had a bit of a breakdown. And all those women out there who go about without wigs or scarves, I admire them deeply but I REALLY WANT MY HAIR BACK.
October 31, Tuesday
Trick or treat. Went to hospital this morning to get my bloods done, so don’t have to wait the six hours I waited last time. I just go in at 11 a.m. tomorrow and they do the chemo straight away. So I went at 8.30, got the bloods done and then walked into Whitchurch to get the car taxed and stock up on trick-or-treat goodies, which I had forgotten about. I was in the post office when the hospital rang. They said, ‘It’s the hospital here.’ I thought, Which hospital? What’s wrong? Forgetting I myself was under the doctor at a hospital. They said, ‘You are supposed to see the doctor and a student is waiting for you.’
‘Oh,’ I said, ‘I didn’t realise that.’ So I walked back with all my trick-or-treat goodies and my pumpkin.
I saw Gill Donovan, who smiled. I’m sure she’s seen it all before. Her manner is a bit like Rosie’s – all calm and reassuring and she makes you feel grown-up and that what you say matters. She said the bloods were fine and I was very quick leaving. I thought, Let’s get out of here as quick as you like. I didn’t want to be around all those sick people. In my mind I have distanced myself from them, not really identifying myself as one of ‘those sick people’. I am still very tired at the moment; I think painting the new windowsills was a bit over-ambitious. Also, I went out with Alison K and Neil on Saturday and had a drink and, although it wasn’t excessive, I’m not used to it any more. I never thought I would be saying that, but there it is. So in a way I’m glad the next session is tomorrow, as I will take it easy for a week now.
The children are in school and crèche, so I need to slow down and stop thinking I can do everything in a week. I’ve got months to do gardening and clean out those cupboards and do the front lawn, but in my head I’m trying to get everything done in a week. So SLOW DOWN is the motto.
I have agreed to have a third-year student called Rachel follow me through chemo. They want the students to follow someone who has been diagnosed with cancer, to let them get a feel for the emotional and practical side of dealing with it, as well as the medical side.
God, she was so young and next year she will be let loose on real people. She asked me when I was diagnosed with cancer and I thought, Shit, I hate that word, for all the bravado of saying to Rhodri that I don’t know why people don’t talk about cancer because a lot of them are going to get it in their lifetime. The truth is, people rarely mention the word when they ask you how you are, and I guess I rarely use it either. I say ‘when I was diagnosed’ or ‘my illness’ so it is a stark reminder when someone actually reminds you that you have cancer.
I was talking to her about not really having the opportunity to dwell on it that much, because the children take up most of my time, but the truth is that in your twenties you haven’t got a clue about life and responsibilities and children, and still probably think you will live for ever, despite seeing death on a regular basis.
You basically need to live a bit and have trials and tribulations to have a deep understanding about what people go through.
Joanne and my mother (Kim and Aggie as I call them) came to clean the house today. They insist it will be their regular thing the day before I go in for treatment, so the house is immaculate and I am sitting here with a glass of wine, because I know Rhodri would look at me with his disapproving stare if I had one tonight. I feel very warm-cheeked and might have to go and have a lie-down in a minute. I really could do with a little sleep.
Sarah had a biopsy for a lump in her breast. There is a higher chance of you getting breast cancer if a sister has had it. They didn’t want to tell me, but anyway, she had a biopsy and it was all OK. Joanne has also got checked out and Julia is going soon. I thank God I haven’t got daughters. I know men can get breast cancer and that’s usually passed on through the maternal line, but it is rare.
Went to the zoo yesterday with the boys and Rhodri, and Neil and Jay and Erin, and had a really lovely day. Life should be like that all the time – quality time with friends and family. Osh and Elis were drawing pictures and I went for a sit-down in the front room and Osh decided to do a Picasso in red pen all over my newly painted walls – that’ll teach me to be so house-proud. He was hysterical when Rhodri told him off, because no one ever tells him off, and he was sobbing, ‘I want my mummy, I want my mummy.’
I asked him this morning who did it and he said it was Elis, then proceeded to spit on it and try to rub it off with his sleeve, but it will take more than a bit of spit to get that off. I will have to get the paintbrushes out again.
Osh went off to crèche this morning dressed as a pumpkin and Elis went to Kid’s Club in his new tracksuit, not wanting to wear his Halloween T-shirt. I think he thought it was a little beneath him, but he wants to be a vampire later. I have just carved out my pumpkin, but as there were only very small ones left in the shop, the big ones having been bought by the good mothers who remembered earlier, the nose and mouth have sort of melded into one. I figure that Elis and Osh will be so high on toffee apples and Haribos it will take them about two days to come down, and a nose and mouth sort of melding together on their pumpkin will be the last thing on their sugar-crazed minds.
My hair continues to come out and now I’m facing the fact I will be an ‘egg-head’ as Elis calls people with no hair. This wig is quite tight, I think that is what makes it so good. Gill in the hospital said she wasn’t sure that it was a wig, she had to have
a really good look, and she sees people with wigs all the time. Although maybe she says that to all the egg-heads who pass her way.
It’s just quite shocking when it comes out, no matter how much you prepare yourself for it. Think I will put a scarf on as the wig gives me a headache after a while – or maybe that’s the glass of wine!
November 1, Wednesday
Second chemo today. I’m an old hand at this now. My hair is still falling out. Rhodri says I look very attractive in my scarves, like a Russian peasant; he is a big fan of Dr Zhivago. Because it was Halloween last night, Elis thought I was dressed as something. I had a black dress on and a bright pink headscarf. I told him I was a Russian witch – he’ll think I’m in permanent costume.
Helen called last night, I haven’t heard from her for a bit and she said my hair will start growing back between the fourth and fifth sessions. I told her I didn’t like to ask them about it at Velindre because it’s so trivial.
Had a nice Halloween night with ducking apples and ducking chocolate (my invention) and generally they ate enough crap to fuel one of those sugar-powered cars – if in fact sugar-powered cars exist and I haven’t just made that up. I have realised that I focus very much on negative incidences in my life. For example, we had a really lovely evening, then Elis was very tired and didn’t want to go to bed which was fine as it’s half-term and he can go whatever time he likes – which usually means falling asleep on the sofa at nine o’clock. Anyway, he sneezed on me and that’s a real trigger for me as he’s full of cold and I am of course slightly paranoid about picking colds up, so I told him off and said it was a rude and disgusting habit. He then called me a silly cow. I said, ‘Don’t call me a stupid cow, that is hurtful.’ He said, ‘I didn’t call you a stupid cow, I called you a silly cow,’ and it sort of went downhill a bit for five minutes. Dr Tania Bryer’s toes would be curling reading this. I know I should have walked away. Then Kate rang and asked if I’d had a nice evening and instead of saying yes, it was lovely, which it was for the three hours of ducking apples and ducking chocolate and watching a film, I focused on the five minutes in which I had a row with Elis. Why is that? There must be a psychological explanation. And the more I thought about it, the more I realised I actually do that quite a lot. I fool myself into believing I am a glass half-full when the reality is, I am a glass half-empty.
I must ring the counsellor; I’m sure I can be helped by her. That’s not a good trait to have and I think it’s like that with the cancer; I am outwardly positive but inwardly perhaps somewhere I do think I’m still going to die. I am trying to accept the inevitability of death (à la Tibetan style) as that is a good spiritual place to be. I really need to spend more time reading The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying – will do so now.
I feel much less tired today, which is good. Helen said that although I might feel well and might want to catch up on all those jobs, I must not forget that I was having treatment which was killing my white cells and would make me very tired. I have a long way to go and I really must take it easy, she told me, so I will listen to her as she is a nurse and sometimes they do know best.
I’ve just been interrupted by the ‘tree man’ who has come to give me a quote on pruning our trees. They haven’t been done for two years and I feel a responsibility to keep them in shape. I used to think they did this themselves, but apparently this is not the case and they need regular pruning, care and attention. I had not realised this when I took on a garden that has eight trees and a very hefty hawthorn bush in it.
The tree man is so young he still has spots. I thought he must be the apprentice and tried to elicit gardening knowledge from him, which wasn’t exactly flowing. I eventually just asked him outright if he knew what he was doing and he said he’d been doing it since he was seven with his dad and he’s just started up on his own. He had a sweatshirt with his company name on and his company details on his van, so he looked the part if nothing else. Plus he had tree bark on his trousers so he must be doing something to someone else’s trees too.
The last people who came to give me a quote never bothered to ring me back, and I’m not getting on a ladder up in those trees, some of which are as big as this house, plus that hawthorn bush nearly hospitalised me with the scratches the last time I did anything to it, I thought I’d give him a go – he’s got to start somewhere. I figure that, like a bad haircut, if he massacres them they’ll grow back and for £180 it’s worth the risk. He has assured me he is insured
November 3, Friday
Aargh! Once again for effect – aargh! I need an anger management course or counseling. All I have to do is pick the phone up, I’ve got the bloody woman’s name and number. I don’t know what’s wrong with me – oh yes, I’ve got cancer – oh no, that’s a poor and shoddy excuse maybe I’m menopausal – that is one of the side effects of chemo. If women are near to menopause age, although I read that’s about fifty-something, you could begin the menopause on my treatment. BUT that is a poor and shoddy excuse for clouting my son. Elis has been a bit of a git these last few days. Maybe my illness is affecting him.
When Rhodri went to Elis’s parents’ evening (five minutes per child), Miss Smith said Elis was great at reading and maths but wondered if things at home were affecting him as sometimes he refused to do as he was told. Rhodri said he thought not. I said to Elis it was OK to say no, but he should give Miss Smith a reason why he didn’t want to do something.
My mother was shocked by this and says he shouldn’t question authority. I thought yes, and that attitude means that I am now frightened of my own shadow. I said I was glad he questioned authority.
However, I clearly didn’t mean my own authority when I said this, as my word is law, and when he is disobedient I just get annoyed and smack him. He hates homework. He says and this is the first real bit of homework he’s ever had to do. Thank God I’m learning Welsh because if you couldn’t read Welsh you wouldn’t stand a chance. Really I don’t know how parents manage who can’t speak Welsh or who aren’t learning, unless they’ve got really bright children.
He refused to do it; he was being silly. The homework asked what he had done the previous week and he said he wanted to write and draw about going to the toilet on his holidays. Then he had a screaming tantrum over me turning the Playstation off, which Rhodri had just let him go on. I said to Rhodri at 8.30 this morning, ‘Give him breakfast, make him do his homework, then his piano practice, then Playstation.’
This is what he actually did: piano practice, no breakfast, as he thought I said I had given it to him, then he let Elis play on the Playstation and could not understand why Elis refused to do his homework. So then he left me with a surly, hysterical child and went to work – FUCK HIM.
It’s Rhodri I’m angry with and I’ve taken it out on a six-year-old boy. Next time I will count to bloody ten or give myself a slapping.
Anyway, Elis has gone off to play football for the day with Jay, so maybe that will get rid of some of his manic energy, and when he comes back, we’ll calmly draw him going to the toilet on his holidays. I’m taking him up to the farm to stay for two nights with my parents. In fairness, he’s seen very little of us this week, what with Kids’ Club, footie, and now my parents, apart from when we went to the zoo last week. But I didn’t know how I was going to be after my second chemo, so I needed to err on the side of caution and take it easy. I still feel a bit of a fraud, as I am very well, if a bit tired.
November 4, Saturday
I had a varied night’s sleep once again. I had a nightmare and was doing one of those silent dream screams where you know you are screaming but nothing is coming out – it was quite harrowing.
I mentioned to my sister Julia that I was glad of a break from Elis as he had been very trying over the last few days. She and her husband both work in child protection. I said I sat there the other day thinking I can really see how people can hit their children and the next thing I knew I’d done it. I said I only tapped him, but it was a knee-jerk reaction.<
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They had just returned from a week in Spain with Lloyd and she said on the fourth day she went to bed crying because Lloyd was so naughty and she couldn’t do anything with him. Apparently, Martin had tapped him too one night at dinner and she said, ‘Don’t start doing that or we might not know when to stop.’
Hurrah! Even professional workers in the field have children who drive them to distraction. It is the school holidays – I guess it is par for the course to be a little bastard for your parents. Thinking about it, I can remember being really naughty with my aunt and uncle who used to look after me (I hope Elis never reads this). Had a long conversation with Kate about life and the universe, mainly about naughty children and going off the rails, and how we had to wait for bloody everything, and how we strived to achieve things because we didn’t have them, and were we doing our children a disservice by giving in to their every bloody whim? Probably. We were like two middle-aged women, which I guess we are. Dad has come to collect Osh for the night – Elis is already at the farm – so it’s just me and Rhodri . . .
November 5, Sunday
Has the world gone mad? My dear husband appears to be normal. Had a normal day with my normal husband, and went for a pizza and had normal conversations, then came home and watched telly, sitting together like normal people. We went on a beautiful walk somewhere we’ve never been before. We usually go walking around a lake in Penarth, but we saw a track and took it. It was open fields and woods, a beautiful, cold, crisp day and it was lovely. He asked me how Kate was and I was relaying our conversation about children today having it all, saying I was talking about my teenage niece Emily and my step-nephews Rhys and James and teenagers (or Ninjas as Elis refers to anyone you call a teenager – he thinks teenagers are Ninjas because of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles) in general and their lot in life today.
My Mummy Wears a Wig - Does Yours? A true and heart warming account of a journey through breast cancer Page 10
