Girl Talk

It's been 6 weeks since I was discharged from the hospital, and looking back I realise, my cancer diagnosis and mastectomy kept Summer outdoors; the early chemotherapy treatments allowed me to sit on my porch and feel silken Autumn air, and Easter displayed a glorious, richly coloured Autumn. The allergy to the chemo treatment and my reaction to Phenergan were like the first cold winds that shook the leaves from the trees; easily cleared by the leaf blower that was my brain tumour, and suddenly we were in cold, dark, Winter.

3 weeks into my recovery from brain surgery, the next phase of cancer treatment, began. I had expected to be put on Tamoxifen for 5 years, a hormone treatment with serious side effects, including that 1% of women can get uterine cancer on it. No longer trusting stats, I did some reading and discovered there is a newer treatment (Arimidex) that blocks the body from making estrogen, which is safer - provided you have strong bones. It has some nasty side effects of its own, but is suitable for women who have begun menopause, as I have. Chemotherapy caused, and I quote one of my nurses here: "violent medically induced" menopause.

I have the required bone density test- another body scan ( I think I am really in some bad science fiction movie), with a favourable result. My oncologist prescribed Arimidex for me without me having to ask, and by the end of that week I have a box of medication which shows me I am back on the pill. The onco described the side effects to me - joint and bone pain, but was pleased to tell me I have bones healthier and stronger than many women younger than me - it was on the tip of his tongue to say"half your age" but he caught himself in time. More scary than anything he said, was the whole network of support that you need to sign up for while on this medication, and because I am officially menopausal. If it's not so bad, why do we need all this support?

Before I go any further: women will tell each other (possibly reluctantly) about their hot flushes, and each will say something different. For me, although they are settling down now, the best description of a hot flush is that it is like an orgasm that has aggressively, and irrevocably, gone to the Dark Side.

The day before my apointment with the onco to establish this next phase in the treatment, my Breast Nurse called me - she who kindly and faithfully visited me and kept track of my progress - ( and who knows whether her presence among her colleagues worked in my favour to boost their efficiency?) to say that we should get together to talk about how I'm doing and "you know, little things like, oh sexuality and such." "What's that?" I said.

She arrived the day after my onco appointment, and we chatted amicably about other menopausal symptoms and side effects of Arimidex, like {vaginal dryness} and fatigue, low libido,and fatigue, ... and the new look me. "At least" I said, "the bone scan, shows it's safe for DH to 'jump on my bones'". For some reason, the BN couldn't talk for a few seconds, so I told her about my definition of a hot flush. She probably wanted to slap me and say "I'm trying to have a serious discussion here!"

The new look me took some chit chat time. Basically, I've gone from a vain and skinny 17 yr old who thought her nose compensated for her flat chest, to a vain 48 year old who wonders in that brief momentary glimpse in the bathroom mirror :"who's that?" Now I have literally a half decent sized chest and am glad of my sticky out ribs. Truly one nose could never do to compensate for 2 boobs so now I'm sorted. The hair is the hardest to deal with especially since the brain surgery. My ward neighbour looked very mannish with her shaved head, and I do too, in my eyes, although My DH says not. My youngest had a friend over who saw my bald head - "you look just like a man" he said!

Nothing like a good laugh to calm down emotions, and a few more weeks have seen some changes, and now instead of baldness, I actually have an official hair style: crew cut. I also have been doing some serious sleeping and lazing around, and last Friday felt sufficiently energised to carry out my plan to join my work collegues for an unofficial visit to the support group we run. As I bathed, the signs of re growth (annoyingly, evidenced by the need to shave once again after freedom from that chore), and increased weight, made me think " it's like Spring has come to my body early, because it is still Winter outside! For the first time in ages, I put on my prosthetic, made to fit breast ( and super attractive underwear - on advice from the BN and got all dressed up to go out.

After my visit, I returned home for rest, and read my Bible. People have said to me, that it is amazing how I have kept my sense of humour in all this; but, how could I not, When God is so Funny? This is what came up in my reading :

Ezekiel 16:vs7

"I have caused thee to multiply as the bud of the field, and thou hast increased and waxen great, and thou art come to excellent ornaments: thy breasts are fashioned, and thine hair is grown, whereas thou wast naked and bare."