Being 'normal' on chemo (Fec)1. Make up routine
I am gearing up to my fourth chemo now and its my first Taxotere, so I have a feeling a lot of what I have gotten used to may be shaken up. However, so far I still have my eyebrows and eyelashes and I couldn't be happier with this little fact. And yet, every day that I decide to wear makeup I find myself carefully manoeuvring around my eyes with a mascara brush, trying to fight the inevitable gentle falling out of my eyelashes. It is more annoying than anything. You get your eyes on point, and then an eyelash decides to drop right into the middle of your pupil, thus making your eyes stream uncontrollably, resulting in you looking like an upset panda. So, the time I have gained from not having to do my hair in the mornings has been swallowed up by the make up routine... 2. Flushes in public My mother has no sympathy for me here, she just exclaims "Welcome to the menopause!", we have a dark sense of humour in my family. On FEC, at the most random times my body decides to burn up to almost near suffocating levels. Now, I can just about cope with this when it happens at night, as I can strip off starkers, in all my bald glory, with all the windows open and the bed to myself with a cold cloth draped pathetically over my face. For anyone out there who has tried a wig on... Imagine trying to carry a sense of decorum in public, whilst out for a meal etc, when an onset, relentless flush becomes determined to sabotage any chance of dignity you have left. Every cell in your body feels like it has hit 100 degrees, and is screaming at you to peel that hot, itchy wig off, along with all your clothes. This happens far too often for my liking, I have to politely excuse myself and go into the cubicle, peel my wig and top half of clothes off and thoroughly wet wipe myself down. Then I always get funny looks for being in there for so long, so then I usually think to myself "What the hell are you looking at? I am going bald in the cubical just to save you from feeling awkward" If it was up to me, I would definitely have my head in the sink. Finding a symptom worth getting checked"How did you know?"
Is probably the most frequent question I am asked the most, in relation to the big C. Even though, I feel we are fully briefed and nagged by mainstream media to carry out monthly checks on our Breasts, I know I am not being deluded when I am assuming most women, especially around my age, do not check. Hell, I was one of them. What took me by surprise, was the fact I could NEVER feel my primary tumour just behind my left nipple, which given its size in relation to my breast is quite ridiculous, really. You would think if you have a B-cup chest, you would certainly feel a large cherry tomato knocking about in there... well no. Apologies for the cynicism here, but I honestly feel we are not warned about just how un-obvious and discreet these changes can be, even if you have 2 tumours, grade 3, stage 2, aggressive cancer... FEC Chemotherapy: what is it?I am one of the lucky buggers that gets to experience FEC chemo and all its horrific ugly charm. Fortunately, I only have to endure FEC for 3 cycles then, I am graduating to its big ugly sister, Docetaxel (Taxotere) for a further 3 cycles.
So, these are some of the questions I have been up against since starting treatment: What is FEC? How is it administered? What the hell does it to to you? FEC comes from the initials of the drugs used:
1. You will get good days, bad days and ugly days
I was always confused by what people ment to say, when they said they had a 'good day' after chemo. Whilst in the slow process of recovering from my third FEC I can tell you, for me, this means getting through the night with more than 3+ hours sleep, accomplishing the day without the severe nausea to the point where I can eat dry pasta and managing to go for a 30 minute walk within 5 days after my 'hit'. An ugly day is basically when you are so whacked you have to take four tries just to finish brushing your teeth in-between 30 minute breaks! 6) MRI Results and Breast centre, round 2So, just about around a week after discussing my treatment plan, I found myself back in the pastel purgatory awaiting my MRI results. Turns out, if it clashes with your monthly friend or if you are as young as myself with oestrogen fuelled C, it can bring back some very questionable results, leading to a lot of short term worry... until they retest you that is. I'm sure I had been exposed to more radiation than Superman within those two weeks.
That being the case, before I was retested with another ultrasound and mammogram I was left in limbo deliberating as to why they were testing me further. I went from being a fairly switched on cancer patient to traumatised mess within 3 hours, as I became convinced I had some super ridiculous, fast spreading cancer and I was going to die. That morning escalated fairly quickly. |
A ' no holds' page about my life with incurable advanced Breast Cancer, in the hope it will give a realistic, detailed account to other young women going through the unfortunate illness.
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September 2023
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