Cancer. by Cara

23/07/2020

My hair has started to fall out at a considerable rate now and although I am blessed with thick hair which has disguised any major loss so far, I may have to take action soon. On a positive note, it has never been so easy and painfree to manage my bikini line.

I thought that I might get away without hair loss thanks to the cold cap but positive thinking has set me up for disappointment. For the first two weeks after round one, there was no more hair loss than normal. Then about four days ago it started coming out noticeably when I was brushing my hair, washing it, tying it up or letting it down and there are clumps on the pillow when I wake up. It’s ironic that for the first time ever we have had a dog living in the house and I am more worried about me malting everywhere rather than the dog.

05/07/2020

I feel as though I can finally relax a little. I am back at home in Bakewell knowing that I don’t have anymore hospital appointments in London for three whole weeks. Frank is asleep. My egg collection and first round of chemotherapy are out of the way. I have to get some blood tests done and a fair few telephone consultations coming up but I don’t mind those.

30/06/2020

One month on from my diagnosis and finally we are making progress! And by we, I mean me and my follicles. I found out yesterday morning that they are growing and I should be ready for egg harvesting on Thursday, which means I can start chemotherapy on Friday. That phrase, egg ‘harvesting’, makes me sound like some kind of crop. The whole process so far has made me feel like I am no longer human. But really this is great news as I was ready to give up last Thursday after hitting a real low.

24/06/2020

I have puppy brain! I can’t concentrate on anything as I always have Frank in the back of my mind. Where is he? What’s he chewing on? Has he done a wee? Has he done a poo? When does he need to eat? Am I training him right? Is his tail waggy enough?

As you can probably tell, he is a fantastic distraction. All consuming. I have a newfound respect for anyone who has trained a dog, or better, a human.

08/06/2020

My New Year’s resolution for 2019 was to be more glam…I’m still working on it. My oncologist, Melissa, is the kind of glam that I aspire to be – but she also really seemed to know her stuff. Both of these things made me warm to her. Picture a doctor version of Elle Woods in Legally Blonde, but at the end of the film when she’s really cracked it and is being a boss.

03/06/2020

Tom and I cycled into Barts to meet the fertility team. On arrival, there was some hassle about letting Tom into the clinic as he had been working on a Covid ward within the past two weeks, even though he had been specifically asked to attend the appointment. There had also been some ambiguity over the phone when the bookings team rang up to ask us to come in. The woman on the other end of the phone had mumbled something to me about bringing my partner and that he would have to bring a urine sample pot with him. She did not specifically say what kind of sample to bring in, but as it was a fertility clinic, we took a risk and hoped that the nurse wasn’t horribly offended when Tom handed it over! I am baffled as to why the bookings woman found it difficult to say exactly what was required, as this surely must be a crucial part of her job. Luckily, the gamble paid off and now we know that Tom is fertile!!

02/06/2020

The phone has been ringing non-stop today.

I have so many appointments coming up I don’t know what is going on anymore. Tom has ordered a diary so we can keep a record of everything.

01/06/2020

I have had the whole weekend to start processing my diagnosis. It still doesn’t feel real.

Friday night was quite drunken, so I slept well. Saturday also involved daytime drinking and a long walk followed by more drinking. Alcohol is fantastic for conjuring a positive attitude from thin air.

I managed to come up with a list of positives that could come from all this:

29/05/2020

Tom had the day off so he could come with me for my appointment. My mum and a few friends had kindly offered to come with me, but I didn’t want to make too much of a fuss. And I really wanted Tom there.

We walked in again, this time along the north bank of the Thames. It was basically deserted due to lockdown. I don’t think I will ever be able to walk through such empty streets in central London again. The perks of a global pandemic.

21/05/2020

It was a beautifully sunny morning so I walked to St Bartholomew’s hospital in central London, just behind St Paul’s cathedral . If you haven’t been to this hospital and you find yourself passing through Smithfield then you must go and visit. The central courtyard really is beautiful.

Thanks to good old coronavirus I wasn’t allowed to bring anyone with me to this appointment. I had my temperature checked on the way in and was asked a list of health questions related to coronavirus. I also had to put on a mask and sanitise my hands before getting to the waiting room where I could check-in.

Sitting in the waiting room I looked around and noticed how old all of the other ladies were who were attending the breast clinic. This reassured me further that nothing sinister was going to happen to me. Although I knew that wasn’t strictly true, I tried to convince myself that 28 was too young to have cancer.