I went back to work in June 2006, on a phased return initially; due to the extreme fatigue I was still experiencing as a result of the cancer treatment I’d had.  It was wonderful to be back in a routine and I was well supported by my colleagues, managers and the college.I continued to have routine check-ups, which were now at six monthly intervals.As I mentioned in ‘My Story 1’, I continued to express concern about a lumpy area near the site where the tumour had been removed from my right armpit.  I felt that the lump had grown by the time my February 2007 check-up came round.  However, the same response was given, “It’s nothing to worry about.  It’s just scarring from the operation to remove the tumour”.
 
I went to my GP in July 2007 and after examining the lump under my arm, he requested an earlier appointment with the follow-up oncology team.The head  oncologist saw me this time and referred me straight to the breast surgeon who had originally performed the operation in 2005. As soon as the breast surgeon saw me, he said that he was fairly sure that my cancer had returned. I went hot and cold and the familiar terror that I’d experienced during my first diagnosis overwhelmed me.How could this have happened after all the treatment that I’d had?  Had it all been for nothing?  Why had the oncology follow-up team failed to recognise that it was a tumour and not “just scarring”?  Why hadn’t I demanded a scan to have it double-checked?

I tried my best to deal with all these questions and emotions whilst further tests were carried out:  a needle biopsy of the tumour, a mammogram and an ultra-sound scan of my breast, chest and armpit.I went back for my results a week later not realising that further bad news was to come.  Not only was it confirmed that the cancer had returned but I was told that I had not one but two tumours in the lymph nodes in my right armpit, as well as an inoperable tumour under my right clavicle.  I was told that they could only offer palliative (not curative) treatment.  I went home in shock.  Palliative meant terminal in my mind.  Each day I struggled with this shocking news and thought, ‘I’m only forty-one.  I don’t want to die yet’.

Further scans followed to check if the cancer had spread: a CT scan, MRI scan of my chest area and a bone scan.  Another wait, fraught with tension and fear.  Then, some good news at last; the bone scan was clear, as was the CT scan.  The MRI scan showed no further tumours in my breast (however, this did mean that the primary site of cancer hadn’t been found) My consultant also informed me that after looking at the ultra-sound scan of my right clavicle again, there was a question mark over whether I had a cancerous tumour there or whether it was a swollen lymph node.  At present there is no way of finding this out since it is inoperable.  Surgery was arranged for 22nd October to have the tumours under my armpit removed, as well as the rest of the lymph nodes under this arm in case the cancer had spread to them.  I returned home the day after the operation, along with a drain to clear fluid collection from under my arm.  I was in a lot of pain and had to keep the drain in for a week. 

22nd October - here I am  just after my operation to remove the lymph nodes under my arm

This is my scar from the operation 

I went to see the surgeon for my results on 31st October. I was told that 23 lymph nodes had been removed from under my arm and that 15 had been found to have cancer.  This means the cancer is more advanced and more difficult to treat, especially since the primary has never been found and due to the possibility that I may have an inoperable tumour under my right clavicle.  I was told that I have a very poor prognosis for survival and that they could only try to manage the cancer rather than cure it (ie use chemotherapy to try and lengthen the time it would take the cancer to spread to my major organs and bones). I was to be referred to discuss chemotherapy options with an oncologist.  Again, I felt absolutely devastated. 

An ultra-sound scan of my right armpit, clavicle and breast was carried out at the beginning of December to determine whether or not the ‘inoperable’ tumour under my right clavicle had been removed during surgery.  Good news at last as it didn’t show up on the scan, so it appears as if it was removed.

In January 2008, I had an appointment with my oncologist to discuss the results of a PET/CT scan which I had requested to try and find the primary site of cancer.  The scan hasn’t found the primary site of cancer but unfortunately, it’s shown up a 7mm cancerous tumour on my left lung.  It’s also highlighted other areas on both lungs which are too small to determine whether or not they may be cancerous.  My oncologist stated that this tumour had probably been there when I had my previous scans in September2007 but hadn’t shown up (the PET scan is more sensitive than the previous scans I’ve had).  He thinks that the chemotherapy may have shrunk the tumour since then (and I think the complementary treatments may have also).  He also confirmed what I’d already guessed, the cancer is now incurable by orthodox medicine and can only be controlled by drugs.  He suggested that I carry on with my chemotherapy (another 3 cycles) and have a CT scan after it’s finished to see if the tumour has shrunk more.    

 Obviously, I found this new finding devastating but tried to remain as positive as possible regarding the beneficial effect that the complementary treatments could have on my prognosis

In April 2008 I had another CT scan to see if the course of intravenous chemotherapy which I’ve just completed has reduced the lung tumours.  However, the results of the scan show that the lung tumours are exactly the same size following completion of the chemotherapy course.  Although my oncologist was encouraged that there doesn’t appear to be any further spread, I felt quite devastated as I’d hoped that they may have gone.   My oncologist gave me the option of starting oral maintenance chemotherapy (which would need to be taken for the rest of my life) or of leaving this for now and having another scan in 2-3 months time.  The side effects of the oral chemo appear quite severe so I opted not to have it and to see how I go on with the complementary/alternative therapies.

In July 2008 I had another CT scan to check my progress.  Unfortunately the news is very bad.  Not only have the lung tumours failed to respond to the complementary treatments I’ve been taking but they have in fact grown and become more numerous.  The tumour at the base of my left lung has nearly doubled in size in the last two months from 7mm to 1.3 cm and there are new areas of cancer showing in both my lungs.  Obviously I was devastated by this news.  If left untreated, the cancer will probably continue to increase in size at this very rapid rate.  My oncologist has suggested that I take oral chemotherapy, Treosulfan, in order to try and control the cancer.  It wouldn’t cure it though.  However, I could get numerous side effects with the chemo, including anaemia which was a constant problem when having the intravenous chemo as I had to keep having blood transfusions.  I’ve decided to take it in the short term whilst I attempt to raise money for more intensive holistic cancer treatments at The Oasis of Hope Hospital in Mexico (for further details see ‘My Story 3′ and ‘Complementary Treatments 2008 - 9′). 

Due to the fact that the oral chemotherapy has been making me extremely anaemic, as well as the fact that it hasn’t slowed down the growth of the cancer, I have stopped taking it.  A scan in October 2008 has shown that the cancer has increased in my lungs and has now spread to my liver.  I now have a 1.3cm tumour in my liver.  Now, more than ever, I need the potentially life-saving treatment offered at the Oasis of Hope Hospital.

   Click here to  go to  My Story 3  page

Click here to go to Complementary Treatments page  

Click here to return  to my Home Page