Heart scans and more tests

This week I had my 7th and penultimate chemo, and I'm now at home over a lovely sunny bank holiday weekend, recovering and trying to rest. My aunt Siobhan came down from Tunbridge Wells to join me in the hospital and she treated me to a relaxing hand and foot massage when we got back to the flat afterwards. I felt thoroughly pampered! It was so lovely to have a natter with her and catch up. An unexpected positive side effect of chemo. The other, not-so-positive side effects are kicking in now and I'm being gentle with myself, giving myself time to get well again. It's hard sometimes to look out of the window at the blue skies, hear the carefree laughter of passers by enjoying their summer long weekend, and not feel a little cheated by it all. But I know that this too shall pass, and I will have the opportunity to enjoy sunny long weekends again in the future. In the meantime I should rest, relax, heal and not be too hard on myself.

Since moving onto the new drug regime (which I've had for the last 3 rounds) I've been experiencing some heart palpitations which intensify about a week after treatment. I mentioned this to my oncologist on Monday so he has referred me to a cardio-oncologist to get my heart looked at. Although I have a Heart Echo test every 3 months to check that the Herceptin isn't having too strong an effect on my heart; as the nurse said at my last test, 'that's the plumbing, not the electrics'! So on Thursday morning I went back to St Bart's to have a 24-hour heart monitor attached. This consisted of three large circular patches, stuck to my chest and either side of my ribcage, which were each attached to some wires which then fed into a little box which clipped to my waistband. I had to wear it for 24 hours underneath my clothes and carry on as usual. I then popped back on Friday morning to take the kit back. Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on how you look at it!) I didn't experience any major palpitations while I was wearing the kit. So we'll see what the results are. I have to head back into hospital on Tuesday afternoon for two different kinds of heart tests and to see the cardio-oncologist to assess the results. Once again, it's wonderful that the NHS are being so thorough at making sure I am okay: I feel as though I'm in safe hands.

Wearing my heart monitor

Today is quite a significant date, as it's exactly 6 months since Tanai and I were in a doctor's room and first heard the words 'you have a breast cancer'. I feel as though it's a milestone. Psychologically, perhaps in an attempt to contain what I'm going through, I have been thinking of this whole thing as 'pressing the pause button on life for a year'. I know it's much more complicated than that, but I want to ensure I don't feel bad about 'opting out' of things for a year while I go through treatment. It may take longer than a year, but at the moment that's how I'm looking at it. And I'm on track. So today is the half-way mark. From now on, I'm nearer to recovery than I am to diagnosis, and that feels good.

Only one more chemo to go! I know that a couple of months ago I never thought I'd get to this stage, so I feel very happy about this.

Siobhan enjoying the frittata and salad I made for our hospital picnic

Outside King George V building heading into chemo

Home to a relaxing foot massage

Collecting hair inspiration for when my hair starts to grow back

Potential trial participation

A little update from me just before I head into my 7th chemo session on Wednesday. All's well, my follow-up chest x-ray was all clear, there seem to be no concerns from my ECG and I'm ready to go for the penultimate round. It feels good to be close to the end of chemo. I've been invited to participate in a clinical trial so I thought I'd share the information with you as it sounds really interesting. Basically, there were some studies carried out into the beneficial effect of taking aspirin in those who had heart disease, and some of the data suggested that aspirin appeared to reduce the number of people who developed cancer, and if people did develop cancer, it appeared to be less likely to spread. So a huge clinical trial has been set up to test these theories, comprised of people who have been treated for cancer of the stomach, prostate, bowel, oesophagus and breast. They are aiming to recruit 3,100 patients who have been treated for early stage breast cancer, which is why they have approached me.

The trial is called the Add-Aspirin trial, and has already been running for over a year. It's funded by Cancer Research UK, the UK Department of Health and the Medical Research Council Clinical Trials Unit at UCL (University College London). They wish to test the long-term effects on the potential of cancer returning of taking a dose of aspirin every day. I will first of all have to take part in a 'run-in' period where I take a low dose of aspirin every day for 8 weeks. If all is fine, I will proceed to the trial. One third of participants will receive a regular dose of aspirin, one third will receive a low dose of aspirin, and one third will receive a placebo. I will not know which strand I'm in. They want me to take a tablet every day for 5 years. I will receive regular check-ups, blood tests, mammograms and other tests, as well as a questionnaire each year, because aspirin has also been alleged to protect against age-related cognitive impairment. (Hilarious! Can it help me remember my keys every day?)

One of the things I've been considering recently is how I can 'give back' after I complete treatment. I feel really positive about the opportunity to participate in something which could make a real difference to cancer treatment in the future, and potentially help save people's lives. Although I will be unlikely to personally benefit from this trial, there's a good chance that the data gained from the trial will benefit people in future. Plus, samples of my blood and a sample from my cancer (when they get round to removing it!) will be donated for research, which is pretty cool. I also like that I get an 8-week run to check that my body would have no adverse effects from taking aspirin. Plus, it's aspirin! People have been taking this for years. It's not as though it's some new drug that has only been tested on mice. So I think it's a pretty good thing to do. I'll let you know if I get on the trial.

Chemo 6, and the rollercoaster continues

This week was my 6th chemo session, leaving me with only 2 rounds left to go. It's somewhat strange as the majority of cancer patients I'm in touch with only have 6 chemo sessions in total, so here's where a lot of people get off the chemo train. But I get 2 extra doses of weedkiller so I'm not quite done yet. It's been an eventful few days, reminding me that this journey is never going to run smooth, but I'm doing okay, convalescing at home this weekend and waiting for the worst of the side effects to kick in.

On Monday I saw the oncologist as usual before my chemo session, to talk through how I am, and prepare anything different from the last time. I've seen three different oncologists from the team since my diagnosis, and for the last couple of rounds I've seen the head honcho guy, Prof. S___. He leads the team and is very distinguished in his field, having written heaps of papers and run lots of studies. He's a lovely chap with a friendly manner and a no-nonsense approach to what I'm going through. We discussed my little trip to A&E and I went through my notebook with all my new questions since last time (I write them down over the intervening weeks and go through them in my oncology session). We checked my bloods, and thanks to the GCSF injections my neutrophils were a healthy 5, so that was good. He then mentioned that he wasn't hugely happy about proceeding with chemo on Wednesday until I'd seen a dentist and could confirm 100% that I didn't have an abscess on my tooth. The risk is too great, apparently. So I left his office on Monday afternoon, having not registered with a dentist since returning from Australia, with a pretty hard deadline for getting my teeth checked out.

A cursory google and a few phonecalls later and I was booked into a dental clinic near the Barbican, near where I live, for the next morning. I had to shift some meetings around at work but I was so determined to avoid anything delaying my chemo schedule I became a little single-minded about it. Luckily, I hit the dentist jackpot. Not only is my new dentist lovely and efficient, she also happens to work in an NHS hospital as well as her private practice, and sees lots of cancer patients with teeth problems so completely knows her stuff. She had a thorough grounding of the impacts of chemo and radiotherapy on teeth, the key risks and things to look out for, and exactly what I should do in my situation. X-rays showed that I was abscess-free (yay!) so chemo could go ahead, but we have also come up with a plan for things we need to do between chemo and radiotherapy to ensure my teeth are impacted as little as possible by the effects of the rads. She has also prescribed me with high-fluoride toothpaste to protect my teeth from the effects of my cancer treatment, and she has given me a little blunt syringe so that I can get mouthwash into the niggling cracks around my wisdom tooth, to avoid an infection delaying chemo. I left feeling very happy and with a plan for October/November to ensure my teeth are also looked after through this.

Wednesday went ahead as planned, with my wonderful friend Caroline joining me on the chemo ward for a picnic lunch and a natter. I had the smiley nurses G___ and G___ again. Unfortunately, this was the first time they didn't get my cannula into a vein on the first go. It took 4 goes to find a vein as my poor little veins were collapsing, which was quite distressing (they ended up having to call the head nurse to do it!). I've been lucky so far and have had good veins, avoiding getting a PICC line fitted, but this time was tough, and I really hope my veins hold up to having 2 more rounds before I'm done. My hands are quite bruised now!

Selfie on the ward for chemo 6

As per last time I had quite a bit of energy (somewhat steroid-induced) for the couple of days following chemo, so I did some work and tried to keep busy. Then the rollercoaster came along again! I received a call on Thursday evening from my GP saying that UCLH had sent over a report following my visit to A&E and that they'd seen something a little worrying on my chest X-ray, so could I come in to see them. Friday morning I rock up at the GP and we go over how I am. She checked my breathing, asked me loads of questions about my heart, chest pain, the little flutter I've started to feel since shifting onto this new drug cocktail. She suspects that if the 'cluster' on the X-ray was the beginning of an infection, the antibiotics which I received at UCLH probably got rid of it, but she asked me to get another chest X-ray just in case. She also referred me for an ECG test (electrocardiogram) to check my heart is working as it should be. So I ended up spending most of Friday wandering round various hospitals of London (St Bart's and UCLH, because unfortunately the tests couldn't be done in the same hospital!) getting tests done. The results will be sent to my GP in the next few days, but hopefully it's not anything to worry about. To be honest, the main takeaway I had from all of this was a realisation of my GP's role in all of this. Each time I visit the oncology team, a letter gets typed up and sent to my GP, and of course they received the A&E report. Knowing that they are taking note of what's happening to me, and even called me when they thought something was awry, gives me great comfort as I go through this. Another example of our amazing NHS!

Display at UCLH of early anatomical drawings

This time around I have been given the GCSF injections in advance, so Tanai is administering a shot each day in my belly for the 3 days following chemo. Hopefully this should ensure that my neutrophils don't drop below the required levels and I can stick to my timeline. I've had my MRI booked in for early September, just before my last chemo, so that the surgeon has some up-to-date imagery to work from when planning my surgery, and I will meet with them before my last chemo. The light at the end of the chemo tunnel is finally visible, and I'm so ready to move onto the next stage of treatment: surgery. Chemo sucks, and I hope I never have to go through it again after all of this.

I now have my own sharps disposal unit for the used GCSF needles!

On Wednesday Tanai will go to Portugal, on the holiday we were supposed to be enjoying together, for his friend's wedding. I'll be sad to be without him for a week, and of course gutted that I miss out on a holiday and on meeting lots of his friends, but we have already started to plan some fun trips for next year, and soon we will have other holidays in the diary to look forward to. In the meantime, I have a host of friends who will hopefully swing by and see me during my week flying solo during treatment. Let's hope there's not another A&E visit next weekend!