My Body is Strong.

Dear All,

Where to begin? I sit here still in partial disbelief that Round #7 is, for the most part, behind me... it feels like such a huge milestone to me, the ending of "Chapter One" of such an incredibly emotional and challenging novel that continues, at times, to not feel like the narrative of my life. It was a toughie, with its own process, its own set of hurdles. The side effects hit me early, and within 24 hours, the need to curl under the covers and brave the storm took hold. To complicate matters, I developed chest pain near my breast bone and by Saturday, the area was visibly swollen. So, I went to the hospital, and was told that Dr. Vashist, the surgeon who inserted my portacath (and punctured my lung...) needed to perform an ultrasound of the area, to figure out what was going on. My mother had come with me, and as she and I sat in the waiting area of the consultation rooms, I was overwhelmed with anxiety and burst into tears. Just four and a half months ago, Julian and I had sat in that same waiting area, in those same seats, for our appointment with Dr. Vashist, who changed our life forever with the news of my diagnosis. It brought it all back... I will never forget that day. I thankfully got it together (God Bless a mother's comfort - even at 36, there is nothing like your mother holding you and telling you that everything will be okay), and Dr. Vashist informed me that the swelling was oedema, painful but not sinister. He still made me nervous with talk about scans that would clarify things further etc., but I left the hospital with anti-inflammatory medication in hand, focused on just wanting to get back under the covers. This time around, the worst has been the nausea, which I still have, even though it has been nine days since the chemo. But with every day it gets a little better. Also, I have had nightmares and insomnia, the latter a documented common side effect of chemo which, for some reason, has been strong this time. And, as always, I have had my days of being very tearful and depressed, the combination of my chemical cocktail and my moments where the weight of this simply gets to me and I need to "let it out". Wonderful pep talks from Julian, Chiara and my parents, together with James' "mamamama", were huge boosters through the clouds.

But the important thing is that I have done it. Survived seven rounds of the strongest chemo on the market for metastatic breast cancer, a stint in the ICU with a collapsed lung, an immune system that gets punched down to zero repeatedly, and more blood tests and needles than I would ever wish on anyone. I have not lost weight nor have I caught a cold, a testament to my dedication to my diet, in my deep rooted belief that I am an active participant in this healing. My body is strong, I tell myself every day without fail, my body is strong. And so, I am ready for Chapter Two. I will start the oral chemo in two weeks, a different new battle that will take me through the next few months. Admittedly, the unknown of it gives me anxiety, but I trust that this next series of chemo treatments will be gentler on me. And if they aren't, the past four and a half months have shown me that I can handle it. My body is strong.

Regardless of my "up" moods and "down" moods, I do always desperately crave reassurance, in whatever form. And this week, it came from my mother-in-law, who told me that she had spoken to a woman at a get-together, who informed her that she had had Stage 4 breast cancer and had been treated by my dear Dr. Plowman. She too had undergone seven rounds of chemo, she too was put on oral chemo, and then went on to have surgery and radiation... and she now is in her SEVENTH year of remission, healthy and active. And in her 60's! If she can do it, I can do it - I hold onto those stories so tightly. And with the scans coming up, I visualise myself in her shoes, looking back on all of this journey with a sense of accomplishment and pride, and the words, "My body is strong!"

So, as Chapter Two is about to get underway, I continue to rest as much as possible and feed my body with all the goodness I can muster. I have at least three possible cases that, were I to feel well enough, I hope to take on next month, as I miss my work with the families greatly, and it would be wonderful to end the school year with my "return", however tapered and tentative, on the scene. We shall see... if I have to do both the chemo combined with radiotherapy to my lymph node, I may have to defer. Health and care are first, however strong my body may feel.

Despite the gray weather outside, I am heading out for a walk, my first proper stretching of my legs since this last round. I leave you with the photo above, of James with our nanny, Kelly. (I assure you - as I think of past photos I have posted - he does own more than blue pyjamas, but he was about to go to bed, and I just love him in that colour....!) The point of my attaching the photo is that he too, in my eyes, reflects the image of "my body is strong" - I am certain that he is just eight and a half months old, but look at the size of him!!! He and I are standing tall. :-) And it is, in great part, to my "troops" - for you all have helped in ways that will forever be impossible to convey, to get me through Chapter One. Bring on Chapter Two....