I’m 35 today. 35. I never thought I would make it. I never thought I’d make even near 35! I was diagnosed with stage 4 breast cancer six weeks after my 31st birthday. At the time, my back was so sore, I could not straighten it, my left nipple had disappeared into my breast and I couldn’t walk even two metres without being dangerously out of breath. I was a very symptomatic metastatic breast cancer patient. I was so unwell that the doctors weren’t sure I was strong enough to handle treatment. I think the deciding factor was my young age. Telling a 31 year old woman that she’s too far gone and packing her off to hospice is something I reckon most doctors will avoid. Treatment was worth a shot. Without trying, I think I’d have died within a year or even six months.
And I responded. I responded to treatment. Taxol shrank down those tumours and then hormonal treatment kept the cancer at bay for more than two years, until last summer. The cancer then spread to my bone marrow and I have spent the last eight or so months trying to get on top of that. It’s been tough. The dreaded chemo was back on the table. A two week hospital stay was also involved. I spent probably seven of those eight months in bed. GemCarbo + Letrozole failed as a treatment. I remained pancytopenic* throughout that regimen. So I switched to Eribulin. The first few cycles told of little improvement. But from cycle three onwards, things were looking up. I was doing housework again. Wanting to get out of bed. I could breathe again. My appetite came back! Now, after four cycles, I actually feel like a human again. I don’t even need my wheelchair at the moment. It’s hard to imagine how bad I felt at my nadir. Isn’t that always the way?
So, 35, how are you? I’m not sure I want to live another four years of the terminal cancer lifestyle but I’m glad to be alive today.
Happy St. Patrick’s Day, everyone!
*pancytopenia is when more than two of your blood compenents are low. Every blood component was dangerously low for me.
