CHEMO & VANITY

I truly believe that all woman care about their appearance regardless of what some magazine articles will lead us to believe - you know the articles, the ones that start with "I'm happy in my own body", "I don't need make-up to feel empowered" - you know, those sorts of articles. Yes I know that some woman obsess/worry about their appearance more than others, but essentially I do believe that each of us girls like to try and look our best and to feel our best. Just my opinion.

I will put it out there, I have always been a worrier about my appearance, my weight, my hair...does that make me vain? Does that make me shallow? Probably in some people's eyes but for me it was more deep rooted than that. I wanted to feel accepted and thus in turn made me obsessed with how I appeared to others. I had a terrible eating disorder for many years and that only really went once I had my first child ironically during pregnancy! I spent hours in the gym and hundreds of pounds on hairdressers appointments, nails, tans, clothes. Did it make me happier...looking back now, no not really but I did it. Nowadays, I use only natural products on my skin (almond & coconut oil), hairdressers is every few months rather than weekly (yes, really I was there weekly!!) and I enjoy the freedom of living in Mallorca where I do not really worry about the most up to date fashion and revel in the fact that Havaianas, shorts and a bikini will see me through a good 6 months of the year along with my trusted Gap jeans that I purchased 10 years ago! Also being a full time working mum, I have mastered the art of 10 minute make-up!! I still like to look good but I do it on a budget now and it's less time consuming.

So when I was told I had cancer and required chemotherapy, one of my thoughts was how will this affect me not only physically & mentally but how will it change the way I look.

Chemotherapy makes you believe you look rotten. Indeed it does affect your outer appearance along with the mental & physical changes that it also afflicts on you. So far I still have my hair but then with my particular chemotherapy I was told that I would possibly not lose it, it would just thin and I might lose it towards the end of my sessions or I might not...so far it has just thinned, I have noticed this a lot after chemo number 3. A few hairs fall out on a daily basis as they do for everyone but they are not replenished. So my hair is becoming thinner and it is very dry. I love/loved my hair...I'm a Leo and our hair is supposed to be our shinning glory and although I am thankful that it is still here, I do look at it each day and notice the small changes. I thought I might completely freak out with the thought of losing my hair but I guess some things become less important...am toying with the idea of just having it cut very short to give it some strength and if it does decide to take a vacation from my head, what a perfect excuse to invest in beautiful scarves and hats! Recently my hair has started to hurt, this is a strange one. Usually directly after treatment if I touch my hair it hurts, the ends/roots hurt/tingle. Most bizarre sensation. It is almost as if I can feel my hair fighting to hang on...or maybe it is hanging on due to the amount of hairspray that I am using :-)

We all know that our skin is the largest waste removal system but it appears that the majority of my body's poisonous waste is trying to escape through my face...I have never been one to suffer with spots but am now the proud owner of pimples, spots and the occasional black head - how very delightful that I am regressing to teenage hood!! Of course being a woman, one can cover these delights with make-up, but I know they are there, lurking in the background. I also feel the need to shower A LOT! I feel dirty (and not in a Christina Aguilera sexy way!!). When I am having treatment and the days immediately after, I smell like chemicals, even my girls have mentioned that I smell strange, not the usual 'mummy' smell that they love and so I have this over whelming urge to shower and bath as much as is physically possible - which is not easy when you have an intravenous drip coming out of your chest into a bag that you are carrying around!!  Really not looking forward to the hot summer months, can only imagine how the combination of unbelievable heat and chemicals will make me feel and bearing in mind, because of the neuropathy I will not be able to have cool showers or baths...the joy.

I have mentioned before my little old lady hands. Not only because of the neuropathy but the skin has become very thin, a little baggy and they have wrinkled slightly plus my nails are paper thin and although they grow they tear off very easily. I cut them ever other day very short to give them strength and paint them to try and make them look pretty but my hands have aged over night. When I look at them I imagine how my face would look if it aged as quickly. A scary thought. Thankfully I seem to have only spots no wrinkles yet...small mercies.

Of course, all of these things are so insignificant compared to the overall picture. I know this. I am not obsessing about these minor issues merely observing the daily changes to my appearance and how my body is reacting to trying to rid me of the chemotherapy drugs.  People when I meet them always comment on 'how well I look' which is great as it means I do not look sick or even as though I am having chemotherapy, but, I know myself and I see the changes little by little. I have to accept these changes for now but I do look forward to my hair growing big and strong again, also for my face to be clear. Is it ok to want to look good even during chemotherapy treatment? Yes I believe it is. It does not mean that my looks are more important than my recovery, of course it doesn't, it just means I am trying to hang on to a little bit of me, a little bit of the woman I know when I look in the mirror and if by getting up every day and getting my 'dolly' on to make me feel better then so be it.

So here I sit, with my hair done and full make-up on. I am wearing my favourite perfume, the one that I used to save for special occasions but today is a special occasion as it is round 4 of 12. I'm third of the way through my treatment.  

As Coco Chanel said ~ A Woman Who Doesn't Wear Perfume Has No Future. I intend on getting through a lot of perfume over the next few months...

DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE

9 weeks ago I fell down a rabbit hole. Only 9 weeks ago. How can life change so dramatically in 9 weeks? In that time I've had surgery, found out I have stage IIIb colon cancer and finished 3 rounds of chemotherapy. 

The impact that this has on your life, your family & your friends is phenomenal. Everything changes...everything changes.

I started this journey a little blasé if I were to be completely honest. I didn't  know cancer, I knew it can kill, I knew that you can survive it. I had only known one other person to have it. I didn't know anything about staging, that it can travel/spread, secondary cancers. I knew nothing of chemotherapy that there are even different types of it. I knew nothing! I have now read, joined groups and become a statistic. ARRRRGGGGGHHHHH how can this of happened to me...us!!!!!! I am not saying that my life is now engulfed with cancer, but as the weeks go on, it is more and more in my/our life. Everyday it is present there is now no escaping it. The chemotherapy is becoming harder, the side effects are getting a little stronger each time. I fight them but can feel them raging through my body. I feel like there are days that I lose touch with reality. I miss getting up and going to work. I miss that routine of taking the girls to school, gossipping with them on the way and then going to work. I miss complaining about emptying the dishwasher at work and I miss the normalness of being with other people everyday. I miss being busy. I miss the gym, rushing from work to the supermarket, then home to make dinner. I miss the spontaneous meetings of friends for a drink after work, I miss the trips with hubby to take the girls to ballet and stop off for a glass of vino and catch up after a long week. This has all been replaced with fortnightly trips to the oncology department, fortnightly trips to the government doctor so I can be signed off sick, lazy days after chemo and afternoon siestas. Plans are made, plans are cancelled. Everything relies on how well I am feeling. I miss ME.

Round III of chemo last week was going so well. I felt a little sick, a little tired but overall really good considering and by Friday I was almost bragging at how well I felt. You see that is the problem with bragging, it bites your arse...Friday afternoon at the clinic to be 'unhooked' and found out that there was still half a bag of treatment left...NO NO NO, I could not face having to go home and still be attached to that bloody bag/pump with that WHOOSHING noise which actually makes me feel sick now...I know it is only a mental thing but still, the sound now revolts me and I still have 9 rounds to go.  They tell me that I can be 'speed' pumped in about 2 hours, so there I stay to finish it off. I feel terrible by the time I get home, spaced out and a little incoherent by the time I go to bed. The weekend is utterly disgusting. I feel terrible. Chris works all of Saturday and I have both girls with me. It is a struggle. They are not a struggle, they are never a struggle,  it is me... I feel so sick, so useless, so exhausted but I cook and I bake buns for them. Keeping busy, letting them see me busy, being 'normal' is important BUT I am not being normal am I? It is just an act this weekend. Chris hugs me when he is home. I cry, I really cry not as in wailing out loud cry but buckets of big hot tears and these tears hurt my eyes because the neuropathy has gone through the roof and is now affecting my eyes and mouth as well as my fingers. We have a group hug. I feel pain/guilt because I cry so openly in front of them but they seem unfazed by it, maybe because we are coping so well and they only see strength normally they are not scared that Mummy might need to have a cry because she feels unwell and trying to get better. Chris reassures me it is ok for them to see and we return to our weekend. I hold it all in, I keep it together. 

If you were to ask me how I am feeling right now, I would say distant. I feel removed from me. If I stand over the rabbit hole entrance I can see me falling there...I am still nearer the top of the hole than the bottom but, nevertheless, I am in the hole. Am I scared? No I am not scared, not once since this all started have I been scared but I am bored with it...already, I am so bored with it all. Mentally I think I have it under control most of the time but this weekend I just wanted it to be done, to be over with. I am in pain, I feel sick, I feel exhausted and I guess maybe feeling a little sorry for myself and that annoys me. Self pity gets your nowhere, but I feel very emotional right now. I know that everything is going to be ok but I want that ok to be now. I feel like I am standing on the outside of my life looking in, watching it, it is very surreal. I feel like I am in limbo. I want to do normal everyday things but normal everyday things after the chemo sessions are totally debilitating at times. A simple walk out to the shops is exhausting. Getting up to have breakfast or to be with the girls before school at times is hard...my need to be with them far outweighs any desire to just stay in bed but it's tough. I feel guilty that I am putting my family through this. I feel embarrassed  that that I rely on my au pair to help me so much during these difficult days (I am eternally grateful that I have her in our life right now). Some days I feel like I am a prisoner in myself. Some days it is SUCH an effort to put a smile on my face and sometimes I wonder if you can see I am faking it. If I push myself then I just end up feeling terrible the next day and I am supposed to be making myself better and resting so that I build my strength for the next chemo session. I feel useless. I feel a little broken. I don't want to be a broken mummy or wife, I want me back and to do this I have to go through this whole bitter process. Yes I know I need to take myself off and have a word...get a grip Amanda you can do this. Yes I know all this but right now, here right now, I am having a momentary wobble. Tomorrow is another day and it will be a better day and my big girl pants will be back on and I will be back on track to climbing out of that rabbit hole...

LET THE GOOD TIMES ROLL

Wow what an amazing 7 days. I have felt fabulous since last Wednesday. So it seems to be the pattern of 7 bad days 7 good. I can take that. Obviously chemotherapy and it's side effects are totally unpredictable and the second session's bad days did extend by a day this time but HEY I can work with 7 off 7 on!! I truly appreciate feeling well now and when this is all finished, I will not take my health for granted again, not that I really did before but I think I am more aware now of what my body requires and I have become slightly power food obsessed, although chocolate does seem to find it's way in occasionally as does the odd glass of Rose wine on my good days - well I have to live a little (well obviously I want to live a lot but you know what I mean!!). 

Girls broke up for the Easter holidays on the Wednesday and I had an invitation to go to 10 year anniversary drinks for a friends business in Santa Catalina. I knew there would be several familiar faces there and people that I had only spoken to through Facebook. Although slightly anxious as I have not been out to a gathering since being diagnosed, I knew it would be good to 'get out there' and speak to people and put some faces to names. We went as a family and to be honest, I felt slightly safer going in numbers!  I have always been anxious going out and meeting new people, even used to feel anxious going out just meeting friends in large groups, obviously not many people know this if any to be honest apart from my husband and closest friends. I was incredibly insecure and would combat this by talking too much, drinking too much and becoming a total extrovert when actually inside I just wanted to go back inside myself to my 'safe' cave. Funny really as everyone thinks I am so outgoing and confident.  ANYWAY, it was a lovely couple of hours being out, talking to friends and making new ones, feeling 'normal' ish and I even managed a glass of wine. Yay.

Cancer I have found out is either a conversation killer or that is all people want to talk about. The problem is I do not see myself as different now or even that there is anything wrong. I see myself as a chemotherapy patient if anything. So when you see someone that you have not seen for a while, they usually start the conversation with a slightly surprised "oh you are looking so well" which of course is always nice to hear but you can sense that they expected you to look terrible or at least a little unwell, however they are just generally happy to see you looking good.  With this particular chemotherapy you do not usually lose your hair, although I have had mine cut a little shorter as Folfox does cause hair thinning, I still have it all (thankfully) and normally I have made an effort and have a full face of war paint on. Then you are asked how you are...how do you answer that honestly without boring the absolute pants off them or reducing them to tears! So I have found myself saying "I am really well actually" which in essence is the truth because by the time I am out being with people, I usually am feeling really well. You then sometimes get the arm rub/stroke...very similar to when you are pregnant and people touch your bump...with cancer seems to come an arm touch and a sideways look when asked how you are. Although this is usually from people who you do not see very often. A good/close friend normally just embraces you in a massive bear hug and showers you with kisses if they have not seen you for a while then asks how you are :-) The brave and bold ask those questions that others dare not to, for example I was recently asked if it is terminal and then how do I feel about having cancer or how is it I still have my hair...these kind of people I like...straight to the point and we then move on to more interesting conversations. Some people simply do not know what to say...and why should they and to be honest I never expect anyone to say anything...I have cancer I am not cancer and am the same person I have always been so please do not worry about the 'right' words.  I do truly appreciate people's concerns and the previous comments are observations and in no way a criticism to anyone. 

Thursday 2nd & Friday 3rd was more time with friends. Thursday  was a lovely day spent in a local park in the sunshine with some friends and their littles having a picnic. The only problem is that I have become heat/sun sensitive due to the chemotherapy which is a bit of a bind seeing as I live in Mallorca and the summer months are about to hit us AND I love the sunshine, any opportunity to get naked and a tan and I'm there!  Factor 50 and BIG hats are the way forward this summer and Chris says he has a solution for the beach ...knowing my husband it will consist of poles and covers (he works in the yacht scaffolding and coverings industry). He will no doubt construct something quite remarkable and worthy of a CIBSE building award !!  Friday Madi was off out with friends as usual and Roxy and I went to the cinema to see Cinderella, to be honest I think I enjoyed it her more than her. There was only the four of us there and we decided to sit right at the back in the middle. The little girl in me loves Cinderalla, the beautiful girl, the prince charming, rags to riches and just the magic of it all.  There was a moment in the film when Cinderalla's mother dies and Roxy turned to me with those big brown eyes and said "oh her Mummy died", she gave my hand a squeeze and we continued to watch the film holding hands. Not sure what she meant by that, or even what she understands. We walk home from Ocimax to our house as it is only a 30 minute walk (little legs doesn't do quick) and talk all the way about making hot cross buns and what outfit she would wear that evening to our friends Candice & Jason's leaving do.

Bitter sweet saying goodbye to Candice. For those that know this family you will understand why and for those who don't, this gorgeous family lost their daughter to mitochondria just before her 4th birthday 4 years ago. I am so unbelievably proud of them, what they have overcome. They are moving back to the UK and have so much to look forward to. Seeing them all happy after everything that has happened makes my heart warm. Nice to see some familiar faces again, lots of laughs and a bit of a dance. Was exhausted by 11pm though...so rock n roll nowadays! We say our goodbyes, she cries and I fight back the tears.

Gorgeous Saturday with my littles. I make them breakfast in bed of warm homemade hot cross buns and fruit...I love to spoil them and will continue to do so until they leave home. We have a nice afternoon mooching around the Palma shops and a lovely evening just chilling planning our big family day out on Sunday as it will be Chris's first full day off from work, so we plan to go to Bellver Castle and then head to a beach to have a picnic. See now that is the thing about plans when you have something like this they can dramatically change without warning. I had been having a little pain in my tummy but just ignored it, however, on Sunday morning I woke up and it was bad. We continue to get ready and head off to Bellver. By the time we go there the pain was severe, we managed to walk around, take some photos but I know I need to go and get myself checked out. I can't really take the chance of having an infection so off to Juaneda we go and I am taken straight in for tests/scans and an over night stay. Uff on Easter Sunday. Get shown to my room and can't help but feel annoyed with myself. The littles come with Chris to see me later on, they sit on the floor and play cards. So much for our big Easter day out. I apologise to them all, Madi says that she's had a good day. I love this child. Thankfully all tests come back good, more than likely just inflammation on the resection scar on my colon and I am allowed home at lunchtime on Monday. So Easter Monday is spent lunching in the sunshine. All is good with the world again. 

So here we are on chemo Wednesday BLEUUUUUUUGGGGGHHHHHH. I am dreading it. I have felt so damn good and I know that this time tomorrow I will feel terrible...maybe I wont, but chances are I will. I am an optimist but I also have to be realistic. Just think, this time next week I will feel wonderful again. I am planning on going back to the gym and swimming on my good days, so very much looking forward to that.


It is only a week Amanda, get those Super Girl pants (thanks Ali Rodd) & lip gloss on and just do it.