December 2014 and Beautiful People

Tomorrow is December, I've been waiting for it, and I'm glad it's here. November can do one.

Bye bye chemo
On Wednesday, assuming my blood levels are ok, I will be having my last chemo. Last chemo! I'm so relieved. I'm not sure I can stand much more of it, so it's a good job this is the last. It's been hard, and as I've said many times, I got through it because of amazing friends. I want to say thank you to the people who have stood by my side the whole time. I don't want to name names because I'm scared of missing someone out accidentally, so I will just hope that you know who you are. Like I said at the start of all this, I'm not a strong person, I'm not brave. I'm only still standing, just about, because of the strength of some incredible friends. (Oh gawd, as I am writing this I've started to cry! I'm too emotional, see? Not strong. New Year's Resolution: Toughen the fuck up.) I don't know what I'd do without you, and I love you very much.

I also want to say a specific big thank you and a big FUCK YEAH WE'VE (nearly) DONE IT! to the friends I've made who are also about to have their last chemo. I've had a lot of support from, and made a lot of friends, who have/have had breast cancer and are going through/have gone through cancer treatment. Massive big love to everyone.

Hello Christmas
So if my last chemo is this Wednesday, 3rd December, then I can expect to be ill for up to 8 or 9 days after. (I have no intention of being ill longer than that at the most cos I have people to see and places to be from 12th onwards). Seeing as it's December, I'm preparing for this last stint of chemo-induced houseboundness by putting up my Christmas decorations, and getting all my dvds of Christmas films out and ready. I hate that I'm going to be ill again, but at least I can make this one festive!

And then the celebrations begin, and I can't wait because I get to spend lots of time, not ill, with the people who matter to me most. A few of the highlights include:

• Fake Christmas Day at my house with Charlotte and Emily who have been my rocks over these last few months, so I cannot wait to spoil them rotten.
• Christmas night out with my favourite work peeps who have organised the date around my last chemo to make sure I can be there! So I will be there with (jingle) bells on.
• Despite having not read the book I'm planning on rocking up to my book club/beer club night in December to remind them who I am cos I've not been in so long.
• Leicester YBCN Christmas meet up
• Standard Christmas Food Orgy with The Girls (and their boys), another group of people who I need to spoil rotten for being so ace.
• Plus a bunch of other nights out using Christmas as an excuse for drinking cocktails and champagne and putting the world to rights with various friends.

And for Christmas itself I'm being temporarily adopted by the family of my unofficially adopted sister/part time housemate/all round amazing beautiful, wonderful friend Emily.

When I think about all this I feel really happy. I'm glad I wrote this all down, it's a good reminder.

Anyway.... now to just prepare for LAST CHEMO! My milking the "I've got cancer" thing has paid off as I have a friend coming round with homemade crumble shortly, then I've got a mad busy afternoon/evening sorting shit out and christmassing my house, work tomorrow in the day, tomorrow evening will be spent telling Emily how brilliant she is while she makes me cosmopolitans, work Tuesday in the day, and then out celebrating last chemo in town with Amy Jay on Tuesday night.

Then bring on Wednesday. Bring it on.

About pretending: Fake it til you make it

Sometime very shortly after diagnosis I was out and talking to two people I work with who have been going through some major, major shit too. They have a motto: Fake it til you make it.

Life throws a lot of shit at you. Well, it really is throwing a lot of shit at me lately anyway. You can't stop that from happening but you can choose how you respond to it. My go-to response is to be positive and optimistic and I've spent a lot of time genuinely feeling that way. There's nothing I'm writing in my posts about being thankful that isn't true. I have a lot to be happy and thankful for, and in many ways I am really, really lucky.

But there are points when the shit gets too much and any genuine positivity or happiness gets beaten right down. I don't think you can stop that from happening either, but again you can choose how you respond to it. Wallow in it, or pretend everything is ok and keep your fingers crossed that at some point it will actually be ok again. Fake it til you make it. That's what I'm going to have to do, because right now if I allowed myself to even begin to wallow, even just for a moment, I'm not sure how I'd pull myself back out of it.

So I'm going to focus on the good, pretend away the bad, until it's all ok again. In the meantime, maybe people can please handle with care.

Perspective

I'll keep this brief....

When you have cancer, and you go out and find out about someone with incurable cancer, it sorts you right out. Doesn't fucking matter what was bothering you, you haven't got incurable cancer. You've got a life.

I might not be the cleverest, or the funniest, or the prettiest, or the coolest, or good enough in whatever other way, but I have a life and I can live it. So I won't waste it.  

That's all.

Much love

xxx

Everything I've learned about.....Faking it - eyebrows and eyelashes

Hi! I'm writing this post for anyone who is going to be going through chemo and faces losing their eyelashes and eyebrows. Don't worry - you can fake them with makeup! And it's pretty easy, trust me. I'm speaking as someone who knew sod all about makeup before I had chemo. Liquid eyeliner? I'd never used it. Lipstick? I'd never worn it. Primer? Isn't that some kind of paint you put on cars?

This isn't a tutorial, this is basically just me sharing some photos to demonstrate how a bit of makeup can quickly transform your generic cancer face back in to a face that resembles what you looked like before chemo came along.

At the end though I'm going to share a couple of links that will help if you, like me, don't know where to begin in completely faking eyebrows and eyelashes.

So first of all this is my Cancer Face. (I do actually have some hair still but I've cropped it out to give a more authentic Cancer Face.)

 

:-(

 

As you can see I do have a few eyebrow hairs still but not many. I still have one chemo left at the point of taking this photo so they might disappear too. And I only have the occasional very stubby eyelash. Mascara is no longer an option for me as there's nothing to apply it to!

 

Here's a close up of an eyebrow and eye.

 

:-(

I miss my eyelashes!

 

Anyway. This is what I look like in my wig with no eyelashes and almost no eyebrows.

 



 

Slightly less "cancer patient" but at best looking decidedly tired/a bit ill.

Sometimes on chemo, I feel tired and ill. But a lot of the time I don't. And when I'm feeling well and I want to go out, I'd rather not look liked a tired, ill cancer patient. And this is where makeup comes in!

Eyebrows

First of all, eyebrows. I have tried two ways of faking eyebrows. One is with Benefit Browzings (or equivalent in another brand). This works, and is easy, but for me I couldn't get my eyebrows quite right. Always ended up too thick and dark. Here's a photo of one from a while ago as an example.

It was better than nothing but I was never really happy.

Then a couple of days ago I went to a Look Good Feel Better makeup workshop (details on that at the end of this post) and was shown how to do eyebrows with a pencil. I much prefer it! The pencil I was given is Estee Lauder Double Wear Stay In Place Brow Lift Duo and it looks like this:

One end is a brown pencil which you use to draw on eyebrows, and the other end is a very light coloured pencil highlighter which you just use a little below the eyebrow you've drawn on. I don't know why. But that's what they told me to do so that's what I'm doing!

Here's me with one eyebrow done so you can compare sides:

And here's me with both eyebrows done!

Another step away from Cancer Face. Hurray! But as you can see, I'm still looking tired and ill, just with eyebrows now. It's cos I've got no eyelashes.

Eyelashes

So, you could go and buy lots of false eyelashes and stick them on. I've never used false eyelashes in my life, and probably never will. I just can't be bothered, and I am the kind of person who would inevitably go out, lose the fake eyelashes off one eye and be unable to remove the fake eyelashes off the other eye, and look like a complete idiot. So I'd rather not bother. Instead, I'm just using eyeshadow and an eyeliner. It's amazing the difference it makes!

First of all, eyeshadow. Here's a photo of me with eyeshadow on and no eyeliner yet. To be honest - in the photo you probably can't tell that much difference, but in real life it's another small step away from Cancer Face.

Next up - eyeliner. Now, I have recently learned how to use a liquid eyeliner... BUT, having been on the Look Good Feel Better workshop I've decided at the moment, I prefer using a pencil - and I'm using a dark grey instead of black. The one I got from Look Good Feel Better is a Lancôme, Le Crayon Khol, 03 Gris Bleu!

(By the way, the photo from earlier of the eyebrow done using Browzings shows one of my early attempts at using liquid eyeliner. I got better at it than that, but even so I think it's a bit full on for me. I might prefer it when I have some eyelashes again.)

Here's me with one eye done with a pencil so you can compare with and without:

And here's me with eyeliner on both eyes. Just putting a bit of eyeliner on gives the impression of eyelashes being there.
 

 

Here's a close up of one eye and eyebrow.


 

 

What do you think?! Not quite screaming "CANCER PATIENT" so much now is it?!

 

It's not quite the same as having real eyebrows and eyelashes, but I am well impressed at how much difference a little bit of makeup can make. This is the makeup I used on my eyebrows and eyes: An eyebrow pencil, an eyeliner, and eyeshadow.

 

 

That is literally it.

 

Stuff you might be interested in!

 

So if you are going through chemo and are going to lose your lashes and brows and want to fake them but don't know where to start here is something to check out:

 

Look Good Feel Better workshops

Hopefully your hospital has told you about these already, but if not have a look on their website: http://www.lookgoodfeelbetter.co.uk/

They are free 2 hour makeup sessions for women going through chemotherapy. The one I went to was held at the hospital I go to for chemo.

You are given a big bag of makeup and cosmetics products which you get to keep. Mine included: eye makeup remover, makeup remover, toner, moisturiser, special eye moisturiser, primer, concealer, foundation, blusher, powder, eyebrow pencil, eyeliner pencil, eyeshadow, mascara, lip liner pencil, 2 lipsticks.

And you are shown how to use all of these products in a way that leaves you looking like a regular non-cancer-patient person (unlike a clown, which is what I'd have looked like if I'd just been given the products and sent away to work them out on my own!).

 

 

 

100 reasons why I'm thankful I was diagnosed with cancer - Part 3

Hello! Following on from previous posts (Part 1 and Part 2) here are some more reasons why I'm thankful I was diagnosed with cancer.

6. I've discovered that one person (me) can make a difference
And on a bigger scale than I thought possible. Here I'm talking about the times where I have challenged The Sun newspaper on their use of Page 3 models in a breast cancer awareness campaign. I wouldn't have done this if I hadn't been diagnosed with cancer. It started with a blog post written as an open letter to The Sun. I know I keep showing off about this but I've had almost 10,000 hits on that, plus there were articles about it on Buzzfeed and The Debrief. The result was that the No More Page 3 campaign got some more publicity and loads more signatures on their petition (There were over 1,000 new signatures on the petition on the day when No More Page 3 circulated a link to my post!) Since then, I've written more, and had a response (albeit a ridiculous one) from The Sun's Head of PR. The No More Page 3 campaign is incredibly powerful - just this last week three major retailers (Tesco, Waitrose and Marks and Spencers) have decided to change their displays of The Sun to keep them out of the sight of children. I feel incredibly proud that I was able to contribute a bit to this campaign, because I think it is so, so important. And all I did was write a few blog posts. That's all I did. So it makes me wonder, what could I do in the future, when I'm not also dealing with the bullshit that is chemotherapy? I want to do more, I want to make a difference, and now I believe I could. So I'm going to.

7. I bounce back a bit quicker
I'm very sensitive. I know this because everyone tells me I'm too sensitive. I also know this because I'm so familiar with feeling hurt and feeling stupid. And it doesn't take much. If I think that you've thought for just a second that I'm being annoying or stupid then I'm going to feel upset about it. ("You" being almost anyone, but the more I care about you the more upset I get.) I'm not sure at the moment where I stand on this, whether I think I need to toughen up or whether I think sorrynotsorry, this is who I am (probably somewhere in between the two). BUT, either way, since being diagnosed with cancer I think I bounce back from the hurt a bit quicker. This is partly because of how valuable time is to me now and I don't want to spend it being sad, and partly because people are being so nice to me just now (which, thinking about it, is because I've got cancer haha!) and that cheers me up. Anyway... I think I'm moving in a positive direction.

8. I'm writing
A couple of weeks after being diagnosed with cancer I started writing about it here. I loved writing when I was younger and thought I was ok at it. I'm not sure what happened exactly but it's been a long, long time since I've done any real writing and I'd come round to thinking I was rubbish at it (for example, a few years ago in some feedback for an appraisal at work, someone said my writing skills "are good, although not outstanding". I was gutted.) I think this is now the 49th blog post I've written since being diagnosed with cancer so I've written a lot. And I love it. As I've said before, it's incredibly cathartic, taking all that stuff out my head and dumping it here instead. But also.... people have been really nice about my writing. I mean, really, really nice. I'm going to get a big head! This includes my friends who are obviously obliged to be nice to me regardless, but it also includes people who don't know me at all (and it also includes the person who had said my writing was good but not outstanding - the compliments I had from that person had me bouncing off the walls I was so happy!) So I think I would like to write more. Not just on this blog. But, in my future, I would like to write more, and I think maybe I could, and I think maybe I will. I didn't think that was a possibility for me before all this. So, thank you cancer.

9. I get to reduce my risk of cancer
Yes I know. I've already got cancer. But I'm a genetic mutant and I KNEW that, however until I had cancer, I couldn't convince the experts of my mutant status. Because of the family history they still considered me high risk for breast and ovarian cancer, but not enough to have any preventive surgery or screening until I was at least 40. So, before I had cancer, I was at risk of cancer and I was terrified, and nothing was being done about it. In my family, cancer has been aggressive, and a death sentence. I got lucky this time - my cancer is not aggressive. I should be ok. And now, while the experts don't (yet) know what gene fault I have inherited, they've relocated my file to the "Oh Shit, Definitely a Genetic Mutant" folder, and I get to have the preventive surgery. This has a HUGE impact on the risk of me getting another breast cancer, or ovarian cancer in the future. The "population risk" (ie the risk with no genetic fault) for women in the UK of getting breast cancer is around 12-13%. After surgery, mine will be around 5%. And by having my ovaries removed, my risk of ovarian cancer will be pretty much zero. So while I will need to live with the risk of recurrence of the cancer I have now, at least:
1. Hopefully that won't happen because I am lucky to have a slow growing, non aggressive cancer that has been caught early.
2. I will be monitored very, very closely from now on.
3. I won't be at risk of ovarian cancer which is dangerous because it tends to be diagnosed late.
4. I will have very significantly reduced risk (to a lower risk than the average woman) of a new breast cancer (and one which is more aggressive and more likely to kill me than the one I have now).

Uncool chemo

Before you start chemo, you go to an information session at the hospital where they list all the ways you might get ill (in case you missed it, a sore throat can be an "emergency", "life threatening" and "fatal"). So you think the defining feature of chemo is illness. In my experience, this is incorrect! As well as illness, there's another defining feature which is finding yourself in a variety of weird and / or embarrassing situations. Here's a few of my own examples. (If you would like to make a film about me then you are welcome to include these but I want my character to be made generally more cool and glamorous and be played by Jennifer Connelly.)


Tidying up my bedroom. Unable to remember what I put in that box, opening it up and finding a bag of my own hair from the early days.

Realising I needed to shave under my arms and being absolutely over the moon about it (because when you are on chemo, hairy armpits are a sign of hope for the future).

Going to meet my MP to discuss the serious issue of the sexualisation of breast cancer awareness, and blurting out that I am jealous of her hair. (She does have amazing hair though.)

Leaving my wig on the bed in the spare room because I was too lazy to put it on its stand in my bedroom. Waking up the next day, excited to be going to spend the day with a friend. Going in to the spare bedroom and finding the wig in a mess on the floor and the dog asleep and snoring on the bed in its place. (Mini heart attack and nearly throttled the dog but thankfully no actual harm done.)

Dancing and strutting around the kitchen singing along to Divinyls "I touch myself" with a headscarf on and bits of toilet paper plugging my nose to stop the continuous streaming of Chemo Nose Dribble.

Having conversations with friends that get given hashtags like #bumprobs, involve comparing tongues to see whose is the most disgusting, or include statements like "Well, my vajayjay is currently a blank canvas."

Being invited to a friend's house for dinner and asking if I can bring anything. The response: "Yes, bring Bonnie and bring your polystyrene head".

For a joke, going through with a friend's suggestion of taking the opportunity to try out some different eyebrow styles. And then getting the following feedback on Twitter on my makeup work of art from a complete stranger: "For me the lip liner is fine but the eyebrows is too long, n for me it quite little bit strange."

Kneeling on the floor in front of my friend while she inspects my ginormous bald patch for new hair growth.

Sitting in my appraisal at work, getting an itch and scratching it.... and then realising I have no idea if my right eyebrow will still be there when I next look in a mirror.

Having a panic that I have somehow grown another cancer tumour (on my good side), going to my GP, finding out it is not cancer but probably an infected hair follicle, and being teased mercilessly for obviously being a hairy beast.

(Image credit: @ALilEarthquake !)

Having written this I realise most of the above are related to hair loss of one kind or another. It really is the shittiest chemo side effect of them all! Oh well. Ni modo.  

Is that a light at the end of the tunnel?

125 days ago I was told I had cancer. A lot's happened since then!

Story so far

I've had 2 ultrasound scans, 4 biopsies, an MRI scan and a CT scan.

I've met with my surgeon twice, and oncologists 5 times.

I've had 5 rounds of chemo (4 different drugs) and spent over 15 hours with a -4 degrees head freezer on my head.

I've had 5 blood tests (2 of which took multiple attempts to actually get blood out) and 7 cannulas stuck in me. I've fainted 4 times and had 1 vein burst.

I've spent 15 days on steroids, 11 days on anti sickness medications, and injected myself to boost my white blood cells 25 times.

I've lost loads of hair, and had a lot of tantrums about it. I've also now almost entirely lost my eyebrows and eyelashes. But I've got used to wearing a wig, learned how to create fake eyebrows, and learned how to deceive people into thinking I have eyelashes by using liquid eyeliner.

I've kept a blog. (This blog!) I've written 47 posts since being diagnosed (don't know when to shut up). The blog has had 30,000 hits so far!

A lot of those hits are on my challenges to The Sun newspaper about their use of Page 3 models for a breast cancer awareness campaign (9,708 views on my original open letter to The Sun and 5,198 on The Sun's Head of PR response to me). My original letter to The Sun also made it onto The Debrief and Buzzfeed. I also met with my MP to discuss it and got her name added to the No More Page 3 politician's letter.

I ran a 5k on chemo and 100 people sponsored a total of £1,530.50 for Breast Cancer Care and Cancer Research UK.

I've also made new friends and had lots of fun times etc etc.... (It's no wonder I'm knackered!)


Coming up next

13 more days until my last chemo. (1 blood test, 1 cannula, 3 days of steroids, 5 injections).

Then I will be having as normal a December as possible. I might disappear from the blog and Twitter for a while (yes, I might shut up for a bit! Thank fuck for that!)  I'll do my job in the day, and then in my spare time I just want to watch Christmas films, eat too many roast dinners, and chill out with my dog and my friends.

At some point in early January will be the operation. (Eek! I think the numbers for that might be something along the lines of 1 cannula, 9 hours in surgery, 6 days in hospital, up to 6 drains for up to 2 weeks, 2 weeks before I can make my own cup of tea, 2-3 weeks before I can have a shower!)

Then I think at some point in February will be radiotherapy (3-5 weeks of going to the hospital for a 5 minute appointment every Monday - Friday!).

And then.... I think I'm cancer free (I'd bloody better be!). And no more cannulas. (There bloody better not be!).

Can't wait dudes. Can't wait.