My Chemo Style

When 'MyBreastCancerNetwork.com'  first approached me to contribute to this topic, I felt woefully unqualified to do so.  I have been writing a blog for Breast Cancer Care UK since I was diagnosed in May last year and whilst I have tried to stay positive, my smiles were sorely tested by my chemotherapy treatment and I have no photos from that time as I hated how I looked and wanted no reminder of it.

Perhaps I should give you a bit of background about me.  I am now 42.  I first had breast cancer when I was 28.  I had a lumpectomy, radiotherapy and chemotherapy and pretty much sailed through the whole thing.  I had the CMF(cyclophosphamide, methotrexate and 5 fluorouracil) regime and carried on working taking only a couple of days off work each cycle.  No hair loss and no real side effects apart from lack of energy.  And then I went back to my normal life which continued quite happily with some fun adventures along the way until last May.  I then discovered that 13 years after my first encounter with breast cancer, I had another primary occurrence.  Both were aggressive little so and so’s, I was given the all clear only 6 weeks before finding a pea sized lump the second time!

Having had it fairly easy the first time, I wasn’t worried about any aspect of the treatment ahead of me.  In fact I couldn’t wait to get into surgery and to get the ball rolling.  The second occurrence was in the opposite breast to the first so I was very happy to be ‘evened up’.  Hoorah, goodbye lopsidedness.

I was warned that the chemo maybe a bit tougher this time as FEC(5 fluorouracil (also known as 5FU), epirubicin and cyclophosphamide) was the recommended regime and I would have a good chance of losing my hair.  But I was ill prepared for the reality of the side effects.  I persevered with the cool cap but still lost 95% of my hair, preserving just enough for a fetching comb over.  I hated to see myself in the mirror and felt angry that I could not hide my treatment from the outside world.  I resented the fact that strangers in the street could see that I was ‘ill’.  But I wasn’t ill.  At no time has the cancer ever made me feel unwell.  It has been the cure not the illness which has hurt.  Unlike my first experience, no part of by body escaped the impact of the drugs.  My digestive system was in turmoil the whole time.  My feet were so sore that I couldn’t walk any distance.  I was always sick on the night following the chemo.  I had heartburn, collapsing veins and a very sore arm.  The steroids made me so hungry that I had to eat to stop the hunger pains.  So, unable to do any activity, I ballooned.  So now I’m almost a hair free zone and a blob.  The list of side effects went on and on. 

My first brush with cancer had opened many doors for me as I was determined to be positive about it and made a point of doing the things in life I wanted to, for example I went backpacking around the world for 6 months, I gave up a well paid job to spend 5 winters working in a ski chalet in The French Alps, the list goes on.  But during chemo, I struggled to see what great things would come of this second meeting.  This time I had no job, I’d had to refuse an offer of a job in France, so I had no income and my savings were disappearing fast.  Indeed, even now, I’m not sure what the good stuff will be but now that the chemo is over, I know that it’s out there, I just need to find it.