Off to the Jurassic Coast

The time has finally come - in a few moments I'll be off to Dorset to enjoy what I think is a deserved break. I believe I've packed everything - famous last words - and I am, of course, taking far too much. Which isn't a problem for me as I can't carry anything so it'll be up to my slaves for the week to deal with it all.

I haven't managed to email everyone and I apologise for that - I'll do it when I get back, obviously. Thanks again for all the messages and emails, and behave while I'm away.

Post #40

And the news is rather good. I had my follow-up appointment this morning where I got the results of the tests carried out on the cancer and sentinel lymph node. It's all clear, which means I won't be needing another operation. The node was clear and they removed a large enough margin around the tumour. Actually they removed far more than required as they'd decided that my tumour was 16 mm large but it turns out it was only 8 mm. So that's that. I have to say that as soon as I was told that I didn't need further surgery my mind went blank - I could see and hear the consultant talking but I completely missed what he said. Thankfully my Mum was with me and she filled in all the blanks once we left. Anyway I'm celebrating in style with a pasty, sushi and a doughnut.

I've got an appointment to see my oncologist in a few weeks time. I'm quite confused as to what's going to happen now. I thought I was going to see a radiotherapy consultant first but no appointment has been made. It looks like I'll be starting Herceptin and Tamoxifen (hormonal therapy) more or less straight away - although a chemo nurse had told me I'd probably have to wait until November - and I might be getting Herceptin for two years rather than the one year I was expecting. I'm a tad confused right now but I suspect I'll get all the answers once I see my oncologist. I'm not that fussed right now and determined to make the most of my four weeks of freedom, not least my week-long holiday in Dorset next week.

My hair's still growing but it would be more accurate to describe it as fluff with a receding hair(fluff?)line. At the same time some of it has fallen out but this could be because it's quite weak and therefore more prone to fall out. I'm looking forward to seeing what it plans on doing next.

That's me off for the time being. Hope you're all well and enjoying life.

Getting there, slowly

First of all, thanks all for your messages - still very much appreciated.

Well here I am, slowly recovering from the operation. It wasn't too bad but I did struggle when coming to - I guess I'm just one of these people for whom general anesthetics is a bit of a nightmare. This wasn't helped by the fact that I emerged at 6pm and the recovery unit closes at 7pm. I was feeling rough - nauseaous, dizzy, groggy - and they were literally trying to push me out of the unit. This has left me quite angry because I got there at 7.45am, as requested, but had to wait until about 3pm for the operation (they actually changed the order of the operation list: I was initially supposed to go first but someone decided to put me last. It was only when a nurse got a bit annoyed with this that the order changed again and I was second on the list). They made me wait for a while in the recovery room before the operation so I was able to see what happens there - people in various states come and sit there, and either sleep, drink, eat or watch TV depending on their state. They get a blanket and people taking care of them. They only leave when they are well enough, and this can take a few hours. I was asked to get out of bed and dressed within 30 minutes because I couldn't stay there. At the same time I was being told that there were no beds available so I'd be better off trying to get home. I really wasn't happy about this. A bed was finally found - I was able to recover and then make my way home. I will have a word with the consultant on Tuesday, when I get my results back, and I might make a formal complaint about this. No one was nasty or anything but I really don't think the treatment I received was good enough. Still, I'm home, I'm ok if a little tired and dizzy at times. The scars are not too painful and I'm able to eat and sleep reasonably well - so all in all things could be a lot worse.

I can't do much at the moment but I'm about to go and sit outside for a bit as the weather's quite nice. Then I'll start tackling my emails - and this time I mean it. There's quite a long list so I doubt I'll be able to email everyone today but I'll do my best to get them sent in the next few days. Hope you're all well and looking forward to a good weekend.

The Day After

This is Elizabeth adding the message on behalf of Anne-Marie. Just a short note to say she is back home, the operation went well, and she was able to come home yesterday as planned, although very late in the evening. She will update when she is feeling a bit better. There is not really much pain, she is just a bit knocked out by it all. Keep posting your messages, they are a great encouragement to her.

Wetland Centre photos

Here are a few photos of a great day out. And thanks for all your messages, emails, texts, e-cards, cards and phone calls - I can't thank you enough.

The day before...

I have been surprisingly - by my standards anyway - non-anxious about tomorrow but it is slowly kicking in. I've never had an operation and I don't even remotely like the idea even if I can't see a way around it in terms of treatment. Not much I can do really. I'm just stuck between not wanting to have the operation/wishing time would slow down, and it being done and over. So I'm trying to get on with it. I've got to be admitted at 8am tomorrow and make my way to Nuclear Medicine, where they'll inject a radioactive dye into my body in order for the surgeon to spot the sentinel node (the one that'll be removed, basically). Then I'll have a wee wait as the operation will take place at 1.30pm. It should take no more than one hour. Once I've re-emerged and they consider me fit enough I'll be able to make my way home - this is the moment I can't wait for. It looks like it's going to be a long day but better that than spending any nights in hospital.

I'm on a mission to keep myself busy today and will be going off to the Wetland Centre in Barnes very soon. So far the weather looks fantastic and the temperatures should reach 17C - this should make for a great day out. Like most of Europe at least it's been an exceptionally mild winter and the wildlife is already out in force - let's hope there'll be no more cold snaps.

I'd better be off. Hope you're all well and managed to enjoy your weekends. I still haven't started on my emails and I apologise for that. I had lots of plans for last week but ended up spending most of my time resting as I was exhausted. Ah well.

Relative freedom

The fact that chemotherapy is over hasn't quite sunk in yet - possibly because the side-effects are still all too present. As such I'm not spending too much time worrying about the operation, which takes place next week. I had to go in last Wednesday for a pre-op evaluation - a complete waste of time but I guess it's got to be done. There's nothing to report there - everything looks straightforward. I briefly saw a consultant to check whether Vicky could still be detected - and she can, just. This saves me from having to undergo yet another procedure that would have enabled the surgeon to locate the mass.

I'm now confronted with a whole week with no appointments and relatively few side-effects. I've no firm plans - and judging by the forecast for this week I think it's better to see how the weather is on the day and make a decision then. Of course it'll depend on fatigue mainly. I'm a bit desperate to go out and do things - and food shopping remains a huge favourite. Don't ask.

I've now started to help on designing a basic gardening course but I've realised I'm not quite sure what is expected of me so I'll need to look into that. I have to admit not having done much in the past week or so - I'm spending a lot of time reading, and enjoying it, but I'm getting to a restless phase again. There are quite a lot of things I'd like to do but the ongoing treatment is preventing me from getting involved in most things. Talking of treatment - again - I received a bit of bad news. Nothing serious as such, just the news that there will be break between radiotherapy and Herceptin, which means that I probably won't be starting Herceptin until November. This is frustrating because when at uni I chose to go full-time in order to graduate last summer. The plan was then to get some work experience and move out of London this summer. When diagnosed I thought I'd just have to postpone my plans for one year, but now it looks like I'll have to wait two more years. Still, my time will come at some point, surely.

In the meantime I'm managing to get glimpses of wildlife - well birds really - with the use of bird food placed on the cherry tree in front of my bedroom window. Only great tits, blue tits and starlings are actually feeding on it but thankfully the proximity of Battersea Park and the Thames means that I've spotted herons, parakeets, black birds and other more common birds flying around. I even saw my first robin. I get very excited about such things these days - I hate to think what state I'll be in when in Dorset...

Hope everyone managed to get a glimpse of the eclipse.

Slowly emerging

Things carry on eluding me - I hardly had to take any painkillers this time but other side-effects were a lot worse. Never mind. Besides fatigue, one of the main problem has been - and still is - oral thrush. Talk about unpleasant and painful. My gums are also more painful. I think that overall the worst is over - it must be over, my body has just about had it now. I've started seriously re-emerging now and I'm enjoying working on my website. Talking of which I'm adding a screen shot of what the main page looks like at the moment - any feedback would be appreciated. It's not the definitive homepage and there's still no content but you should get the idea.


The good news is that the Cartshed has been booked so I'll be off there for one week at the end of March. I'm so excited about it - the cottage is in a fairly secluded, very quiet spot, and is not far from the coast. There are no shops in Osmington but that's hardly a major problem as you can buy organic products straight from the farmer. Most importantly there's a great little pub not far away which serves excellent food and has seaviews. I could go on and on but I'll spare you. The best news, however, is that I'll finally be meeting my nephew Theo and catching up with Justin, Fiona and Patrick at the beginning of April as they are coming down over the Easter weekend. If I'm honest not being able to see them and meet Theo has been one of the most difficult thing to accept. I can't wait.

I'm putting two photos of two of my recent paintings - they were all about fun and using colours so they're not exactly great but painting them was quite therapeutic.



I don't really have much to say. Things have been quite quiet. Oh, ok, I've been doing some reading into the Harry Potter books - I love them but like other books I tend to read them quite superficially. It turns out Ms Rowling has put a lot of effort into them and I missed a lot of things - the precise reason I didn't enjoy reading when at school as I always felt so silly for not "getting it". This time it's keeping me busy and entertained as my brain is still quite reluctant to engage with anything too demanding.

I hope everyone is as happy as Boris, Hazel, Wendy and any other Liverpool supporter must be this morning.

FINAL chemo cycle - guess who's happy?

I can't tell you how relieved, ecstatic and happy I am that this is my last chemo cycle. It has been a long ride with some fairly unpleasant side-effects (as you're all aware) so to know that in three weeks time the worst will be over brings with it emotions that are difficult to put into words. I know the rest of the treatment is not going to be without problems but these are unlikely to be spread over a long period - she said hopefully, realising that fatigue from radiotherapy could last for months.

I made it to Kew Gardens and loved it. We got a wheelchair from the entrance and as a result I paid concession price and my "carer" got in for free - a pleasant bonus. The orchid display was very impressive - photos below - and it was possible to buy samples in the shop. However we settled for cakes and drinks, which were very satisfying, too. We finished with a trip to a photo exhibition which was a pleasant surprise. I used to be a volunteer at Kew and I saw the Volunteer Co-ordinator as we reached the orchid, exhibition but I opted not to go up to her. I'm just not sure how people are going to react and I looked worse than I felt. In a sense I regret this but I just don't want people feeling uncomfortable. Never mind. Overall I thoroughly enjoyed my day out - it did me a world of good as it was my first proper outing since November. I'm thinking of getting a wheelchair from the Red Cross so that I can go out a bit more regularly. I'm also going to try to build up my strength/stamina but I'm not quite sure how to tackle that at the moment.






I am now considering when to go away for the first time as I desperately need a break. I would love to go to the Cart Shed in Dorset since I loved the place when I went there last year. I could go either two or five weeks after surgery but I need to check out if I would be well enough after just two weeks (eleven days actually). This is only possible because a car will be available - I could be driven to the coast, have a wee walk and sit on the beach before being driven back to eat and rest. The other two could then go back out while I lay in front of a fire, reading a book or watching TV.

I'd better leave it here for the time being. I hope all is well wherever you happen to be and that Michael isn't feeling too smug following that fluke result.

Surgery, radiotherapy and other matters

Two trips to hospital in as many days have taken their toll - especially as I had to wait three hours to see the oncologist yesterday - but overall the news was good:

1. I won't need to spend a single night in hospital when I have surgery - They will perform a sentinel node biopsy, which means they will remove one lymph node (or a very small number) only. Apparently fluid from the breast goes through one node, which then 'distributes' it to other nodes. Therefore the operation will consist of a lumpectomy and sentinel node biopsy and should take about 40 minutes. I'll have to go in early but will be released on the same day as it is classed as a minor operation - which feels strange as they will, after all, be removing a malignant tumour. Surgery will take place on 13 March. They'll analyse both the tumour and surrounding tissues to see if there are any pre-cancerous cells, and the node to see whether the cancer has spread. If both come back negative, that'll be it. If the node is diseased I'll have to have another operation to have them all removed (called axillary clearance). If there are pre-cancerous cells I'm not quite sure what they will do.



2. Apparently there is a correlation between how someone responds to treatment and long-term prospects - In my case, as I'm responding very well, it's all looking very good. On top of that the fact that I'll be getting Herceptin and Tamoxifen (hormone treatment) means that things could be a lot worse. Of course cancer is an unpredictable illness but there you go.

I also know what the rest of my treatment plan consists of. I will be getting radiotherapy - two weeks after surgery I'll have an appointment to see a radiotherapy consultant and I'll have to sign the consent papers. I'll hopefully be starting it within three weeks but there are no guarantees because of waiting lists. It will last between three and six weeks - usually four, according to the oncologist I saw yesterday. I'll have to go in every day for a small dose of radiation - doesn't that sound good? Then I suspect I'll be given another wee break before going onto Herceptin and Tamoxifen. She may well have told me but I switched off in the end.

I feel quite tired today but it still looks like I'm going to Kew despite the snow. I suspect I'll be paying for this but I don't care right now. My body seems to have more or less capitulated through lack of exercise - I can't walk 100 metres without getting out of breath and my muscles hurting. My oncologist told me that I should try to exercise despite the fatigue - easy to say when you've never had chemotherapy. I understand what she means but when I do try to be a bit more active I end up having to spend two to three days in bed recovering - what's the point in that? Still, I'm feeling quite positive and I've found ways of keeping busy depending on what my body's telling me - my brain's a bit fuzzy these days so I'm working on web design (and having fun in the process) rather than content. I've also done a bit of painting - abstract painting in different tones of orange, which I found quite invigorating.

I know I owe people emails and I'm slowly working on it. Hope everyone's well and thanks to those who leave messages - I enjoy knowing what's going on in your lives. (Stephanie, I will try and find out a bit more about the Chillow. I'm not sure how it works but all you need to do is fill it with lukewarm water et voila! Provides cool comfort for the whole of its lifespan).

Be good.

Busy week (relatively speaking)

It's been a while since I last updated this so here goes. Side effects for Taxotere are a tad strange. Again, I had relatively little pain when compared to the first cycle, and my 'hair' is still growing. On the other hand, it turns out that the hot flushes and night sweats are a direct result of the drugs - it is absolutely horrendous. Also, my nails don't look good at all, which is not unusual with Taxotere, and I'm just hoping they don't fall out - this is unlikely though, so fingers crossed. As you all know by now fatigue is the main problem but I've been good and not overdone it. However I've got an appointment at Guy's today to see the surgery team and I'm seeing my oncologist tomorrow... I'm also hoping to go to Kew Gardens on Thursday - as a friend and her car are available then - to go and see the orchid display. Obviously I'll have to see how I feel on the day but I'm desperate to go as I've missed this annual event for a number of years now.

On the positive side I now have a Chillow, which is simply a pillow which helps keep you cool when having hot flushes and other such pleasant afflictions. It is extremely effective, to the point where I can't really use it all night as it's not exactly the right season to do so. But it helps when I'm in trouble. I didn't have it when the symptoms were at their worst so I'll see what it can do after my final cycle. I can see the Chillow being very good in heatwaves - very clever stuff there.

Overall I'm doing well. I'm finding it quite difficult mentally - it feels like my body's been under siege for a few months now and I desperately need a break. For some odd reason - perhaps because one of the oncologists said that my treatment plan was only provisional - my mind's decided that I'm not going to get radiotherapy so that surgery seems like the final big hurdle. I'm always reminding myself that this may not be the case. Still, I gather the main issue with radiotherapy is fatigue so it's hardly going to shatter my world. One thing I'm going to have to do is work on my core muscles - it's all gone and perhaps the reason I get back pain quite a lot. I guess I should be doing mild exercises when I have a window of opportunity and hope that it'll help even if only a teensy weensy little bit.

I'd better go and get ready for my trip out - which is exciting, in a sad way, because there's a good M&S at London Bridge station and it's a treat being able to do my own shopping. (I did say it was sad). Hope you're all well.

Chemo cycle # 7

Today is the day of my penultimate cycle of chemotherapy. I was moved from Mondays to Tuesdays because of the bank holiday. I had tried to get back on Mondays but the chemo nurse was rather, um, anal in this matter - I used to believe I was the Queen of Anal Behaviour before that, she made me look like a complete amateur. Not that it matters much of course. I have to admit that I'm not looking forward to today. I'm not that bothered about the treatment per se, and I'm quite sure the side effects will not be too bad. I simply hate the place. On top of that I'm fully aware that I'm reaching the end of chemotherapy and my mind is getting very impatient, which means I find being pragmatic more and more difficult. I want it to end. Still, in three weeks time I'll getting the last lot and that will be the worst over as far as overall treatment goes, hopefully. Obviously I'm not looking forward to surgery either but at least there'll only be the one of that.



I managed to overdo it last week again and I haven't quite recovered yet. I went to see The Last King of Scotland - very good film, Forest Whitaker was worryingly convincing as Amin but some of the scenes, notably the torture, were simply impossible to watch as far as I was concerned. Then filled with the happiness of being out of the house I decided to go shopping. I got home, had to go and lie down and that's more or less how I've spent the past four days. I had planned to go for a blood test - yes, my silly blood count was again low last week - and/or go and see Miss Potter - mainly for the Lake District scenery, which I love (photo of me above Rydal Water below taken in June 2006) - yesterday but I couldn't do either. Thankfully we're able to see some of the Australian open on the BBC so I've been able to enjoy this from the comfort of my bed.






The weight is now definitely on the way up. The main culprits are likely to be the steroids and/or the chemo drug as they're the main things to have changed recently and the kilos have only piled on since starting them. I'm not particularly fussed - there's nothing I can do about it. The only problem is trousers - it's getting to that point where it's a choice between wearing jeans/trousers and breathing. That's when you know you've lost the battle. My 'hair', on the other hand, is growing reasonably quickly. I've done a bit of reading on the topic and it will probably take up to six months for my hair to be back to normal. At least it's not growing back grey and I'm still waiting to see whether it will be curly/wavy. It looks very thin and even though there's a reasonably large amount of it I'm not sure how it'll look. I'm getting quite impatient - typical - and I'm debating whether to dye it red with one of those dyes that washes out easily. A sort of midlife crisis if you want.



And now for my first instalment of Nerdy Corner. I've kept it simple - my brain can't cope with anything too demanding - but I can never guarantee that I'm making sense. I'm adding visual aids for those who just want to skip this part.



*** NERDY CORNER ALERT ***



Chemo drugs target rapidly dividing cells by targeting, among other things no doubt but in my case, enzymes and other proteins involved in the cell cycle. Very broadly speaking (and purists can cut me some slack here) the cell cycle can be divided into two stages:



1. DNA replication - Because a cell gives rise to two daughter cells the DNA needs to be duplicated so that each daugther cell gets a full copy of all the genes of a particular organism.



2. Cell division - Here the two sets of DNA are segregated at opposite poles of the cell and the nucleus is then divided in two. This results in the formation of two daughter cells.

Both stages are highly regulated and if problems occur mechanisms are in place to trigger cell suicide and prevent errors to be transmitted to daughter cells. This of course is only valid in the case of healthy cells. Cancer cells somehow managed to bypass the control mechanisms and replicate despite such errors.



Right, I've been subjected to three chemo drugs, administered in two times four cycles in the following way:



1. Adriamycin (also known as doxorubicin) and cyclophosphamide - These drugs effectively prevent DNA replication by binding to an enzyme called topoisomerase II. When DNA is being replicated it needs to be unwound and separated for the process to take place. In turn this leads to increased tensions in other areas and generates coils and supercoils (sorts of loops) in the DNA, making replication much more difficult. Topoisomerase II removes these coils by cutting both strands of DNA, allowing them to rotate and sealing the DNA strands again. Adriamycin and cyclophosphamide, however, bind to topoisomerase II once it has cut the strands, thereby stabilising it and preventing it from sealing the strands again. This leads to the cell's inability to replicate its DNA and cell suicide follows.


2. Taxotere - This drug affects the stage of cell division but also leads to cell suicide. Once the DNA has been replicated, what is known as the mitotic spindle forms. This enables the segregation of chromosomes at opposite poles of the cell and is made of microtubules, themselves formed of tubulin (a type of protein) segments, which run along the length of the cell in a number of 'strands'. The movement of chromosomes along the microtubules depends on two mechanisms: motor proteins and the microtubules themselves. Basically Taxotere inhibits microtubule function. Microtubules are in what is called dynamic instability - tubulin is constantly being added and removed from the microtubules, and it is this process which generates force/movement (don't ask me to elaborate this bit). Taxotere binds to the microtubule-bound tubulin and prevents it from being removed. This in turn leads to an accumulation of microtubules within the cell and an inappropriate supply of tubulin. This ultimately triggers the beginning of cell suicide. A less important function of Taxotere is the blocking of the bcl-2 oncoprotein which prevents cell suicide from occuring. More on this when I tackle the genetics of cancer - something for you all to look forward to.

*** END OF NERDY CORNER ***

I hope this has made a little sense at least. If not please let me know. And now it is time for me to go and get prepared for my long day - I can't avoid the blood test today, which means a very long day lies ahead. I hope you are all well and I'll leave you with my current favourite song: 'Where's ya moped, where's ya moped, where's ya moped Petr Cech? Where's ya moped, Petr Cech?'

Hasta la vista, alopecia

My hair's growing back. Well it might be a bit premature to call it hair - it's more like a layer of fluff some two millimetres long - but it's definitely growing. This has come as quite a surprise as 80% of people treated with Taxotere experience hair loss, and this usually starts approximately two weeks after the first treatment. Obviously I was already bald but five weeks after the first treatment my hair is growing. And I'm not complaining -I was expecting my hair to start growing again in April so it's a bonus.

Along the same same positive lines I've not felt this 'mentally alert' since treatment started, and it feels great. I've been able to carry out some extra research into things and it's all falling into place. Overall I feel less tired but I'm aware I need to be careful. Feeling less tired I opted to prepare my own meal on Thursday - and ended up having to spend three days in bed recovering. I guess I'm going to have to learn to get the balance right, and it might take some time. Still, I only have two more lots of chemo to go, so with a little luck it won't be a problem for much longer. Of course if I do get radiotherapy it may well be worse but we'll just have to cross that bridge in due time.

Unfortunately for you a more alert mind means that I can now officially launch my 'Nerdy Corner' section. I know some of you are interested in my findings on a variety of cancer-related themes - apologies to everyone else. I was going to start with an explanation of how my chemo drugs work but I realise it's not the best place to start. So I'll have to think about how best to do it. Expect an update soon.

Perplexed, but I'm not complaining

Well here I am, just over one week after the last chemo cycle and things could not be more different from the last lot. As you all know I didn't have the best of time with the first Taxotere cycle but things have been a lot better this time round. As soon as the pain started last Thursday I started taking Paracetamol and took it regularly, irrespective of the level of pain. I'm assuming this is why pain hasn't been that bad - I certainly have been able to move quite freely. To add to this I've not (yet) reacted to the injections, so no temperature - if the injections were actually the cause for the temperature in the first place. I really don't understand this - and I don't have enough knowledge of the human body to even make a guess. I'm hoping it's the 'pre-emptive strike' on pain that minimised the side-effects because I'll certainly be repeating that behaviour.

Fatigue remains the main problem, and my mouth has been quite sore. I'm not sleeping well at all because of hot flushes and night sweats, which undoubtedly adds to the fatigue problem. Thankfully I can have a lie down whenever I need it during the day so things could be a lot worse from that perspective. And of course Mum takes very good care of me, which means there isn't much I actually have to do.

As a result I've been able to do a bit more. Those who know me will know I get bored if my mind isn't stimulated. So I'm now working on a few things and getting nowhere fast - I really need to be concentrating on one thing at a time as my mind shuts down quite quickly. But fear not - I shall be boring you with nerdy facts relating to cancer very soon. I read an interesting article today on how a compound of the japaleno pepper has been shown to kill lung and pancreatic cancer cells grown in the laboratory. It does so by targeting the mitochondria - "the cells' energy-generating boiler room" - of cancer cells as apparently "the biochemistry of the mitochondria in cancer cells is very different from that in normal cells". Which, as far as I'm concerned, currently roughly translates into 'U wot?'. Anyway this ought to keep me busy for some time.

I hope you're all well - especially my fellow Liverpool supporters.

Happy New Year - and good riddance to 2006

I hope festivities were happy all round. I can't complain as such - I was stuck in bed for the bulk of it but only because of fatigue and not because of pain or other side-effects.

I had chemo yesterday, which turned out to be quite a long day. I was happy as the blood tests I had last Wednesday, when I went to see my oncologist, showed that my blood count was high enough so that no blood test was required yesterday. I naively assumed that it meant I wouldn't be spending ages in the chemo uni but of course things are never as straightforwad as this. Because I ususally get chemo on Mondays, and that Monday was a Bank Holiday, they added the bulk of the Monday patients to the Tuesday clinic, effectively doubling the number of patients in the process. I think this would've been manageable if they hadn't been having problems in the pharmacy, not least with people calling in sick. My appointment was for 1.30pm but I only got my chemo after 5pm. Ah well, just one of those things I guess.

I'm not having any side-effects at the moment. If the last lot is anything to go by I will start getting pain tomorrow and this will quickly get worse. I'll be starting the injections on Saturday and I suspect I will react again, making the pain worse and getting a high temperature. The oncologist has already prescribed me some antibiotics as well as some strong painkillers so hopefully these will help and save me having to go into hospital for further tests again. I have to admit that the fatigue is a huge problem at the moment. I have lost a lot of strength. A slight hill or stairs make me completely breathless and I get quite bad muscle pain which leads to shaking. Which means I basically have to walk very slowly whenever I venture outdoors - which is only when I have to go to hospital thankfully. I struggled quite badly last week as I had to go in to see my oncologist and get a blood test on Wednesday. I then got a phone call in the evening to let me know I needed to go back as the tests revealed once again that my potassium levels were high. However, once again, it was a false reading. To be honest, if this happens next time, I will tell them that it's not good enough because it takes a lot out of me.

I'm not quite sure what 2007 has in store for me - I guess nobody does. I should technically get my last chemo cycle around 12-13 February. Then I suspect I'll have another MRI scan before surgery, but I don't know how much of a break I'll be getting. Radiotherapy is an option but not a certainty. Finally it'll be Herceptin and hormone therapy. On the good side, whenever I have a wee window of opportunity to plan things - about five days every three weeks - I can start making plans. So far this is what's looking very probable:

1. Going to Lymm to meet my nephew Theo and catch up with Justin (and Fiona and Patrick, of course).

2. Going to Dorset to a cottage we rented last year and we absolutely loved - the Cartshed. It is owned by an organic farmer who has access to a private beach (part of the Jurassic Coast World Heritage Site) which we can of course use.

3. Attending three football games - two at Anfield, thanks to the Willow Foundation and my friend Hazel, and one at Craven Cottage as our greengrocers are Fulham supporters and have offered to get me a ticket.

Then, depending on finances and health, I would like:

1. One week in the Peak District - it's an area I really don't know well but would love to visit. I've driven through it with my brother-in-law Patrick when we went to Castleton and some areas looked fantastic.

2. Two weeks on the North Coast of Cornwall - those who know me know that I'm a bit obsessed with Cornwall and would love to move there.

3. I have to admit that there are a lot of places I'd like to go but I know it's not quite an option but who knows? Because of climate change I've made the decision not to fly anymore unless an emergency occurs. I might, just might, bend this rule to go to Madeira as it's been recommended to me several times - apparently the flora is extraordinary there.

Other plans I have include:

1. Reclaiming a plot of contaminated land - Now this is really only an extremely vague plan. The idea is to find some metal-contaminated plot and use plants to remove the contaminants. The dissertation I wrote as part of my degree included a similar idea. I looked at how efficient two varieties of ryegrass were at removing lead from soils. In the project I'd like to carry now I'm thinking more along the lines of garden design, using, depending on the contaminants present, species such as willow from which a variety of objects could be weaved. At this point in time I have no idea if anything will come of this but it should at least keep me busy. Finn is using her contacts to check whether a plot is available - always a good place to start.

2. Helping to carry out an eco-audit on a housing coop to see how it could become more environmentally-friendly.

3. Carrying out voluntary work or finding some kind of graduate scheme.

4. Working on online Geographical Information Systems (GIS) courses as I'd love to do a Masters in GIS. I've found the ideal distance learning course but it is quite expensive so again I'll have to check all my options before I make a decision.

Anyway I've no doubt waffled on enough. I wish you all a very happy, healthy and successful 2007, whether you are in warm and sunny Dubai or Australia (great to hear from you Stephanie) and rather less warm and sunny Switzerland, Belgium/Croatia or the UK. Be good and look after yourselves.

Merry Christmas

Holy shamoly. The new drug is a complete nightmare. I felt fine on the day it was administered and the following day but it soon started going all wrong. I started having muscle and joint pain on Wednesday. This got progressively worse to the point where I could hardly move. I had to start my granocyte reconstitution injections - didn't quite enjoy having to inject myself - and I reacted to that, too. By Friday evening I had a high temperature. I phoned the out-of-hours medical oncologoy department and the on-call oncologist made me go to Guy's Hospital as infections can be life-threatening when you are getting chemo. Thankfully our friend Sarah was able to drive me there or I don't know how I would've coped. I was told I'd have to wait ten minutes before someone would see me. Some two hours later a haemotologist came to see me. By this time my temperature was down and I wanted to go home but a blood specialist could of course not let me go. She tried to get some blood but my veins keep on collapsing and it was only on her third attempt that she managed to draw sufficient blood - I feel like a voodoo doll. Then I was left there waiting for the results - there being a ward full of cancer patients with infections, all in various degrees of pain and/or discomfort. A nurse came round at about midnight to fill in one of these stupid forms the NHS is so keen on, and that took a while. Then at 3 am I had to have another blood test - the other test had revealed that my blood count was fine, this was just to verify if there'd been a change. Because I still had a bit of a temperature I was put on antibiotics. The full lights came on at 6 am but since I couldn't sleep because of all of the noise it didn't bother me too much. Breakfast was served at 9 am. Is no one in the NHS aware of the benefits of good nutrition? I asked for some soya milk - 'I could get some ordered from the kitchens' - then thought herbal tea would be simpler to get - 'That's far too posh'. So I had toast with jam. The oncologists started doing their rounds and I was seen at about 11 am, when I was told I could go home. Excellent, I thought. That was before stupid bureaucracy kicked in. Although the required antibiotics could be found in my bedside cabinet staff are not allowed to give you these to take home. A new prescription has to be written and collected. They said they would take care of it for me. So I sat and waited... and got my medication at 3.30 pm. Four and a half hours sitting in considerable pain and in a ward full of people with infections. Whoever thought of that system needs shooting. Ok, rant over.

I was in a lot of pain up until yesterday and was basically stuck in bed. I've also been reacting - I think - to the daily injections, which have thankfully ended today. I've had a temperature of almost 39C degrees but I've flatly refused to phone the oncology department again. Up until yesterday, when I came up in a rash and found a wee, painful lump on my arm. I tried phoning the out-of-hours service again only to be told: 'This department is now closed, please phone later. Goodbye'. Thankfully my surgery was open late so I phoned my GP, who believes I have thrombosis - I really don't think my veins are having a particularly good time of it.

So here I am today. I'm starting to feel better. The pain's almost gone and I've not had a fever yet, but that tends to happen during the night. Without the injections I'll be able to see if the fever could be caused by something else - fingers crossed not. I have to say I have really, really struggled this time to the point where I haven't even bothered trying to watch Liverpool - there's an indication for you. I've got to go and see my oncologist next Wednesday and for once I will be laying it on thick.

Needless to say the Christmas cards haven't happened - apologies, and thank you, to all of you who sent me one. I will do better next year.

MERRY CHRISTMAS to every single one of you - hope you have a grand one.

New drug

Thankfully my blood count recovered in time for me to get chemo yesterday. Although I have to admit I spent the bulk of last week hoping it wouldn't as I was so tired - fatigue is undoubtedly accumulating and I'm struggling with it. Which is one of the reasons I haven't emailed anyone recently - apologies for that. So far so good with the other drug so I'll tackle the emails very soon.

As yet I'm not suffering from any side-effects. I had mild nausea yesterday but that went after I'd eaten. I am very tired but whether that's the drugs or the continuation of a constant theme is hard to know. Most importantly I didn't suffer from any allergic reaction, which I have to say had me worried, especially the anaphylactic shock part. The steroids I had to take actually ensure that the most severe effects are kept to a miminum but I had no symptom at all. Fatigue, hair loss (what hair?) and painful joints and muscles are likely to be the worst problems this time round but since I already tick two of these boxes I'm not particularly worried. Incidentally I don't know if I've mentioned this on here yet but I look a bit like Litvinenko. When that picture of him lying in hospital was first released I thought 'Oh, um, no, you're imagining things', especially as I don't look like him when we both look healthy. But then I let it slip in a couple of conversations with people who see me regularly and they went 'Yes, that's what I was thinking, too'. Some people know how to make you feel good about yourself. Having said that, considering that the side-effects up until now have included: nausea, fatigue, heartburn, sore and bleeding gums, mouth ulcers, sore and watery eyes, collapsing veins, hair loss, effect on bone marrow (leading in low blood count and shortness of breath) and menopausal symptoms, most of which have kept me awake at night, I can hardly expect to be a picture of health.

The chemo day unit has moved to the tenth floor (from the third) and is a more pleasant area, though not ideal by any means. The waiting room is minute, and compared to some, I look positively healthy. Especially at this time of the year, with all the bugs doing the rounds. However, I'm starting to 'make friends' with those people I see regularly and it's actually nice being able to share our experiences and little pieces of advice with one another. As I've already said I can't complain because the level of support I have got has been second to none, and I can't thank people enough. However, sharing with people who know exactly what you are going through offers additional strength and the ability to be completely open. Anyway, I managed to get a nice cosy place, as far as it goes in such a place, in a corner yesterday and proceeded to watch The Incredibles on my portable media player. It did help settle my nerves as I really don't enjoy that place. Another piece of good news is that there will be a separate room for those receiving Herceptin. Herceptin is not a chemo drug per se, as it doesn't destroy healthy cells. Instead, it targets the cancer cells and also attracts the body's immune cells to help destroy the cancer cells. This means that the side-effects are virtually non-existent. Since I'll be on Herceptin for a whole year, receiving it every three weeks, I'd rather be in a room where people don't look like they're on the verge of collapsing - very selfish I know but a lot kinder on my nerves.

I'd better be off for the time being. I hope you're all well and got your Christmas cards and shopping under control - I haven't of course, nothing new there.

The results are in

I went to see my oncologist this morning and the news is good. Volume-wise, it appears that Vicky has shrunk by just under 62%. I'm not too sure about this figure as measurements from the first MRI scan were two-dimensional, whereas measurements from last week's scan were three-dimensional. So we had to estimate the initial third dimension. 62% may well be a conservative estimate but I'll take it and won't complain. I'm just hoping we got it right, 62% sounds too good to be true, even if the oncologist wasn't that surprised.

Bad news as far as this stupid blood count goes as it's half what it should be. And this has really annoyed me because it'll mean a long day on Monday, should the blood count have recovered by then. I have got my steroids to take on Sunday, Monday and Tuesday to try and minimise any potential allergic reaction to the next drug (Taxotere, also known as Docetaxel). The change of drugs half-way through treatment appears to make it more effective but no one could explain why. Just one of those things. I also have six "granocyte reconstitution" liquid thingybobs and syringes for injection, which is supposed to boost my blood count as Taxotere actually has a worse impact on blood count than the drugs I've been on so far - hurrah.

I got back home and received a phone call from a chemo nurse telling me that the blood test revealed an abnormality - my potassium level is too high - and I needed an urgent blood test. The nurse asked if I could back to hospital but I said I was too tired. So she told me to go to my surgery and get it done there. So I went to my surgery and was told by a rather, um, inflexible receptionist that I could only get a blood test in the morning. At which point I could've just burst into tears. Back home I went, phoned the chemo nurse again and she really insisted that I get that blood test done today. At this point I did burst into tears. So, rather embarrassingly, my Mum took charge of things. A nurse from the surgery came to our house, got the blood and took it back to the surgery, where a courier was waiting to take the blood to hospital. I know the NHS gets a lot of criticism for one reason or another but I simply can't fault them. Not only am I not paying one penny towards the cost of my treatment they have taken charge of everything - I simply turn up where I'm supposed to and that's it. Anyway, I am extremely grateful to my Mum for sorting this one out, and boy is that receptionist going to get a dirty look next time I see her.

So here I am. I am fairly exhausted but fine otherwise. The only minor problem now is bleeding and sore gums but I have a mouthwash which helps a bit.

A Benfica win tonight would make my day, mind, but I don't see it happening.

Welcome to the world, Theo

It has happened - Fiona has given birth to Theo, who made his appearance yesterday at 3.30pm. Both are doing well I'm told and will be going home at some point today. Congratulations to Fiona and Patrick - so so happy for them. Justin is very pleased to have a little brother - it's just what he wanted, apparently.

I had my MRI scan this morning. It was a bit too early and I struggled getting home. Thankfully, in the absence of my Mum who's up in Lymm, Finn managed to get some time off work and accompanied me. I don't think I would've made it otherwise - it would have been too much of an effort. Anyway the scan itself wasn't too bad and I'm glad it's over. I'll know exactly what's happening to Vicky next week when I see my oncologist.

Nothing much to report otherwise. I'm slowly starting to feel human again - it'll be nice to be able to enjoy things a bit more again.

AC chemo - done and dusted

Final dose of the nasties was administered on Monday though there was some doubt. I got a phone call from a chemo nurse on Monday morning letting me know that my blood count was again low and I needed another blood test to see whether I'd get the go-ahead. Which I did, in the end. I need to do something about this problem though, if it's possible. A low blood count means that not only do I have to go in early to get another test done it also means that my drugs are not pre-prepared, which means I end up spending a lot of time in hospital waiting. For example, I was supposed to get chemo at 2.30pm on Monday. Because of the additional blood test I had to be in at 12.30pm. When that came back ok, I had to wait for the drugs to be prepared and I had to wait until 4.15 to finally get treatment. So if anyone has any suggestions as to how to boost my blood count or improve my immune system, please let me know.

The side-effects are not too bad. Nausea started almost immediately but hasn't been too bad since. Fatigue remains the main problem and my mouth is now starting to hurt, so I'm moving onto the next phase. I think fatigue has been aggravated by my cold, which has in turn triggered asthma problems - which I never have without a cold - and led to lack of sleep. But things are improving there.

Seems like I'm off on one so here are some good news. I was able to go out on my birthday last weekend and enjoyed to more-than-decent weather we had in London. I only went for a short walk to Battersea Park but I thouroughly enjoyed it. And here are a few photos to prove it.

My sister Laura and her boyfriend Brad are up from Cornwall to attend a birthday party and have brought me a funky hat. I'm debating whether to put up photos of me with all my hats but I thought I'd spare you - I don't like having my photo taken at best of times so you can guess how bad it is right now. My sister Fiona has still not given birth, which I think it's rather rude as they haven't told us if it's a boy or a girl and I'm getting a tad impatient now.

And so it is - I've got a bit of a routine going on but overall things could be a lot worse.