4. Visit to National Institute of Integrative Medicine (NIIM)

So here was my idea. Given that I have 4 weeks to get my body into shape for surgery, I thought I'd go along to see a GP at the natural medicine hospital in Hawthorn. I thought that they could do something about my swelling, since nobody else could - maybe stick an acupuncture needle in it to pop my skin and release the pressure - that would be cool. 

But no, try celery root. Okay, and vitamin c with zinc intravenously. Interesting. So the high dose Vitamin c is supposed to help the cells and the body repair itself and reduce the free radicals that the chemo and radiotherapy launch into the body for their full scale attack on the bad cells. So the free radicals are stimulated by a particular type of cell to eat up the dead cancer cell debris. I feel a lot better knowing that we are doing things in reverse and given that radiotherapy can give you cancer, By removing all that cell tissue afterwards gives me some peace of mind about the recurrence risk. 

I just have to get my head around sitting in a room of healing chairs for 40 minutes with yet another cannula in my arm. It's too much like chemotherapy, but with a healing purpose.....Bbbrrrrrrr. Need more information before I decide to go ahead, in the meantime I'll take vitamin c tablets.

3. The Last Day of Radio

Going to radiotherapy for the last day was an emotional day. I looked back to the 1st day when I had wondered how the hell I was going to get through 28 days, every day to the hospital, de robed and zapped under a machine. I know my anxiety levels rose each day driving into the car park. 

But there were lots of good times in between it all to distract me with Christmas and a new year bringing family and friends. It wasn't so bad after all. The staff were amazing and welcoming, everyone knew my name, due to having to check in at reception with your Medicare card and the photo they have on their system. Because of the photo, my doctor grabbed me and called me by name from the corridor as I was walking away from the treatment room (I hadn't seen him since first meeting him months before), the radiologists would call at me in the dressing rooms, knowing I was in the building and getting ready for them. Not to mention the vip parking rate of $1, and it's a great view over the Dandenongs as reception is so high up. Plus I'm having some free oncology massages. My daily trips to the health spa. Andres drew a dinosaur and its up on the wall in the collections in the waiting lounge, Jana helped with the 1000 piece puzzles and would chat to the other ladies doing the puzzles. 

On leaving, they presented me with a handmade origami dove, each has a saying and mine says 'onward and upwards'. I nearly cried as I waved goodbye to the people that have contributed to saving my life.

I have more people to pray for now that I met some patients in the revolving door of that oncology radiation lounge.

 I came home to a beautiful bunch of flowers from my hubby, John congratulating me on the end of that stage and off to Point Lonsdale to relax and celebrate.

2. Coffee Breaks

Often when I was lying there on the table, arms high above my head, under a $4million machine, I'd wait for the red light to come on and the machine would make a noise and then move through its' sequence of positions. 

Occasionally, you'd lie there waiting, waiting, waiting and nothing! These are the times, I thought they'd gone on their break, "they're in the tearoom having their coffees and a chat". Then it would finally start the sequence and halfway through the radiologists would come and check my position accordiing to my tattoos and the machine and congratulate themselves about their coordinates 'beautiful' 'perfect' 'looks good' - no they werent talking about me ha, ha. That's when I'd ask them how their coffee break was......"we wish" they'd say laughing and off they'd go back to the control room. At least they hadn't forgotten me, something about rebooting the computer - good on you.

I'd give it to them - hey they must see some sad things in their working day. Or is radiotherapy at least a hopeful stage. Maybe it's not done to those who have hopeless situations.

1. Fraud not a Fighter

I have had a few thoughts on my mind lately, but have to figure out how to put it into this blog without boring you silly.

1. I'm a fraud - not a fighter

2. Radiologists have a coffee break while I'm on the table

3. day 28/28 of Radiotherapy

4. A visit to NIMN

1. Firstly, I have been thinking about the whole premise of fighting cancer and how I wrote in the lyrics of the fight song in a previous blog, because it resonated with me at the time I heard it.. But.now think that it's a bit lame, I'd remove the post but it all links together.

I think that every body goes through cancer differently, depending on the diagnosis. I think in comparison to others, I haven't had to 'fight' anything. You just kind of stand there and face each treatment and then the side effects like a storm coming. I haven't had vomiting or nausea like some people. Just some pain for a short period and who hasn't had some pain in their life with having babies etc. otherwise I've continued on with my life with a short spell of inconvenience.

I've seen people really 'fight' cancer when it keeps coming back and they keep getting back up again round after round or have to live with a terminal diagnosis. I've had a positive prognosis, knowing I just have to go through it to the other side. I remind myself that I'm lucky to have listened, done something about checking and then getting it early. I just try and help myself by keeping healthy and meditating and yoga, but if my prognosis was bad, I would probably curl up in a heap and have a bad attitude, even temporarily. 

Today I saw a woman with a tattoo 'survivor' on her chest. I thought to myself I wouldn't call myself a survivor as it implies that I am a victim. I don't know what she's been through but I guess everyone can check back in with me after March - maybe I'll change my mind. I don't normally worry about labels/terms - who cares right? But perhaps the word is overused and applied to some people who haven't been through as much as some. But I guess how much is too much for each individual - probably only as much as they can bear. Or it's all about being strong, some women have tattoos about being strong, their defiance in the face of adversity, their trophy if you like - I think that's more about other people that you remain strong for them.

So I don't know what I would call myself, probably just Kym and I had cancer once. I wouldn't wear this experience on my sleeve like a badge of honour or part of a club. I'm trying too much to be 'normal'. I've avoided the cancer 'clubs' thus far, but now I am pulling all the resources I can for surgery and being kind to my body, why not. So am off to Think Pink for February and have enrolled in as many therapies that I can fit into my week amongst all of the doctors appointments. It has to be my best chance to avoid recurrence so we all (including my surgeons) better do a bloody good job of it. This has to be the end of cancer and the end of surgery and treatment for the est of my life, for my right breast anyway. 

Rack off Hairy Legs

Not on your life!

All those girls who celebrate their leg hair - raise your hands. Yep - that's just me in the corner waving madly all by myself.

I finally have hair on my legs, ankles and feet. I have spent my life cursing that hair, spending hundreds, maybe thousands of dollars over my hairy lifetime removing it as fast as it grew. Now I'm celebrating it!  Its a symbol of health.

Goodbye to Radiotherapy

I'm sitting here getting excited that I have 3 more radio sessions before the end - yay! 25 of 28 sessions done.

So far, parts of me are very sore, it's like I'm breastfeeding all over again, but the location they've been zapping is all red. It has even gone through to my back as well - right through to the other side. Sleeping is interesting (so thankful to John agreeing to buy the portable air conditioner) and bra wearing is not possible! It's not like I have to worry about them sagging if I don't wear one - right! Since they are removing them. But I haven't lost my voice and still have good mobility of my arm.

I have started to know their routine during treatment. I watch for the red light under the doorway, knowing that there will be a clunking sound - I imagine like an accelerator, I fill my lungs and hold my breath until the zapping stops. Now I have just taken it upon myself to do that after reading that they tried this in clinical trials to protect patients lungs/heart. The radiologists say it doesn't apply to me because it was on the right side, not where my heart is, but I'm doing it anyway just in case.

I was telling a friend today how unreal it still feels and that it could be all a hoax. I had no symptoms or signs so it could just be a big joke - except for the MRI of course. With radiotherapy there is no visible sign that it's doing anything just yet - it's just an insurance policy. A very good one considering it takes my recurrence risk from 30 to 10% so I'm told by the radiation oncologist anyway.

I'm just an actor in a bad movie.

Today I got my paperwork for hospital so I filled that out and getting scared. I've joined reclaim your curves website for everything about reconstruction, but people post photos - eew. I can't look at them and I don't think I'll look at my own either until they are all healed.

I was having trouble dealing with the fact of the money I was spending on surgery being equivalent to our cancelled Disney trip. So a positive today was that we received the bill from the plastic surgeon and we can put it on credit card - giving us Qantas frequent flyer points - now that deals with my guilt well and truly.

I'm still dealing with the after effects of the chemo drugs. I still have swollen feet, but try and fit into my shoes everyday as a test to see if it has gone down.

The positives are that I've dropped another kilo over the week so the fluid is dropping but sooooo slowly. My eyes have stopped watering completely! Yay!

I have an appointment with a natural medicine GP next week to see what I can do to get this body healthy again in time for surgery. I have several appointments with my doctors and scans of my arms for connecting veins to join the buttock veins to the chest veins.  Sounds like a bad Frankenstein movie doesnt it.

2016 is going to ridiculously amazing

Happy New Year
A new year has arrived and a time to look forward - it's going to be an amazing year. The last 6 months have been a blur and a time of me pretending to be someone else.



The New Year was celebrated asleep on the couch!!!! I couldn't muster the energy to slap a picnic together and drag my big body to Footscray park to wait until the fire works. Walking up the stairs to the hospital leaves me breathless and heart pounding.

Since my hospital stay, I've had my echo cardio gram and all is fine. I had a halter monitor on for 24 hours where they picked up an ectopic heartbeat - can be normal as long as it doesn't get out of control. I'm guessing it's the strain the drug has put on my heart and organs. As the fluid dropped from my body the breathlessness seems to have sorted itself as well. I've dropped 3 kilos in 2 weeks without changing my diet much. :)

I've been taking the kids to radio, which is a little daunting with so many visibly sick people around for them to see. One Italian lady made things a little difficult as I try and normalize the situation - kind of like I'm having a beauty treatment in my waffle robe. She spotted me with Andres and called out to the heavens "Jesus have you got nothing better to do?!" And to "be strong". There I was trying to quieten her "Thank you and all the best to you". She was just being sympathetic to my cause and not realizing the impact she's having on the kids. Looking forward to the 28th January when it is another stage complete.

Meanwhile, Jana and John's birthday has been and gone - celebrating these 2 kids....


Some more of the birthday girl





We went to Luna Park so the kids could have some fun, which was all good until Alex and I were talking about my toenails. I damaged one at radio and it looks like I might lose it.'Mum I want the old version of you - before cancer!" He said as we were discussing how my toe nail looks like it might be falling off and may be infected. Docetaxol's nickname is the red devil! I didn't realise so many side effects would kick in after the last dose. And just then, a toddler stepped on my other big toe!! It stuck up and bled everywhere! I pushed it down and wrapped it up and headed off to the GP. So now soaking them each day to try and save them. I also bought some cheap shoes from Kmart so I can put my fat feet into other than thongs - I never thought I'd ever wear thongs again since leaving Qld. If I didn't have the fat feet I wouldn't have been wearing thongs and I wouldn't be nursing my toenails.

Today at radio, my redness and blistering is starting to look nasty. They loaded me up with some stronger cream, silicon patches and pads to stuff in my bra to prevent rubbing. Joy oh joy. The nurse said it will get worse before it gets better. Working from home to manage it a bit better.....and wearing big, loose fitting clothes :)


So this isn't my breakfast! I read somewhere that the healing properties of oats helps with radiotherapy - everything is worth a try.