family – The BooBee Journey

Treatment 4: The aftermath – my head

I am nearly a week on from my last chemo treatment and my head is in a funny place. I have this constant nagging question ……. What happens now?

Yes, I know I still need to heal. I have the physical effects of chemo to recover from and hormonal treatment starting soon. But, I am anxious to move forward, move past the diagnosis and treatment. I need a plan of how I am I going to live my life post cancer.

I’ve mentioned before, things shouldn’t go back to how they were. I cannot continue to do a million things, achieve a million things and expect myself to perform the way I always have. I have to slow down, I have to be compassionate towards myself and I have to finally learn to say no because……. well…….. my life actually depends on it now (dramatic but true).

But how?

How do you find a balance between a healthy lifestyle, making ends meet, feeling fulfilled and challenged, yet not overworked and overwhelmed? It’s not going to be easy and will likely be the biggest challenge of this whole journey.

It’s about a fundamental change in mindset. I have to think more about what I really want to be doing with my time, not what I think I should be doing with my time. At yoga this week I received this affirmation. It is quite fitting don’t you think?

With small changes and adjustments, and without big expectations I should surely be able to do less!! (please remind me I said this when I am feeling frustrated or overdoing it!).

I’m starting simple, focusing on keywords. Today’s……

Time

Family

Love

I’m taking time in my family home, surrounded by love, to try and love myself (faults, scars and quirks).

My assistant is with me and we are puzzling. She seems ok with my faults……. except one……. a late feed! That will never be acceptable!

Treatment 4: The bell ringing

Today was the best day! I cannot begin to explain what a relief it is to know that chemo is behind me. No matter what happens next, I am through the worst of it.

The day started with our ritual giggle about the weird hat in the waiting room. I think I like this style the best 🤣 Without fail we laugh until we cry. I will miss this part of chemotherapy!

From there we headed to the dreaded weighing station (I won’t miss that) and then into my treatment room. My communications whiteboard greeted me with the message below, it put a smile on my face right away. The chemo nurses are so lovely and empathetic, they always know what to do, say or write.

The treatment itself went well and the kids turned up just in time for the bell ringing ceremony. They insisted on being there and it was lovely to share the celebration with them (most of you will have seen the video on Facebook). What a moment it was, the camera didn’t catch the tears in my eyes.

From there, we headed to The Parade Hotel for a celebration lunch. All smiles and one of the few times I’ve seen Charlie not finish a meal!

It’s been such a journey, but the kindness and support I have received has been unbelievable and I feel very lucky to be a part of such a great community and to have wonderful family and friends. Nikki has been my rock through chemo and I love her to bits for being there at the shitty times.

So now I rest and then in three weeks I find out what’s next. The journey is not over but I am confident the worst part is. We await the genetic test results and I already know hormone blockers are on the horizon. More side effects to negotiate, but that’s ok if it saves my life.

Thank you to every one of you for following my journey and providing support. You don’t know how much strength it gives me.

Baldy goes on holiday

Like I’ve mentioned before, one of the first things that ran through my mind when I was diagnosed was what I might miss out on this year. I became determined to miss the least amount possible. Cancer would not stop The Travel Bee!

The annual Augusta trip was carefully considered and decided it would be doable with a few minor adjustments. We headed down on Good Friday and with the help of amazing friends, our camp was set up in no time. A lovely birthday dinner with friends at the Colourpatch made our day.

Inclement weather didn’t stop us with around 11mm falling on our first night. We were cosy in the camper trailer and only had minor leaks. Saturday it rained on and off but between showers we managed to get in; a trip to Margaret River for pre chemo blood tests, a walk to the marina, wine tasting and a 600m swim at Flinders Bay. Not bad.

I was a little bit worried about looking like a chemo patient in the camping ground, but one upside of cold, wet weather was half the camping ground were in beanies so I blended in nicely!

Sunday the sun came out to play and we enjoyed; a few quiet strolls, a visit from Mum, Dad, my sister and niece, Ice cream and a night out at the pub with friends. At the risk of standing out, I decided to jazz things up a bit for the dinners out, choosing more stylish headwear. I’ve even mastered how to do my wraps with no mirror!

Camp Bee this year expanded to two sites with Charlie and his mates parking up next door, with roof top tents and swags. It was so nice to see our tradition continued and shared with friends and girlfriends. I just love that he still wants to come and we plan to continue booking more sites as the family grows. In the 13 years we have been coming, we have evolved through bikes, scooters and skateboards to P plates in cars and utes. Love the changes, and gosh it’s so much easier now!

Today is pack up day and we are taking our time. The weather is glorious, we have squeezed in another walk and a 700m swim between packing. Lunch is done and we are nearly ready for the final pack up push and guess what……..

The pre chemo steroids have worked their magic, my muscles 💪 are flexing and I’ll have it done in a flash!!!

Round 3 chemo tomorrow, then I’ll be more than half way 💪 💪💪🎉🎉🎉

Here I go….. Treatment 1

It’s only 3 months of my life. 4 cycles of treatment. I can do this.

This morning I woke, and keen to follow all instructions I went for a walk around the block. With each step I felt stronger and more determined. I wanted to keep walking, if I could have walked to Bunbury, I would have! But I needed to get home and get steroids in, step two in the process.

My chemo buddy arrived to a stressed house. I was very anxious and rushing about the house with everything half done. Of course this was rubbing off on the other family members. Things were tense, but chemo buddy managed to diffuse the situation and get me sorted.

We headed to Bunbury. Once in the hospital I actually relaxed. I guess being a medical person, and being treated in a hospital I have worked in for many years, it was familiar and I felt safe. Probably the complete opposite to the average patient. I saw people I knew and got hugs in the hallway.

Early on, we got to have a great laugh trying on the free headwear. We really weren’t sure what this one was about or how it should be worn but agreed it looked like something out of Star Wars.

Once in the treatment bay, things got underway quickly and I am remaining calm and comfortable throughout. The dreaded cold cap is absolutely fine, it seems all those tight swim caps and winter lagoon swims were good preparation.

As I sit here with the second drug running. I can say this isn’t as bad as I thought. I think the hard part will be over the next few days when I really start to feel the effects of the drugs, but at least I know I can bear the cold cap and I am doing the best I can to hold onto some hair. But, if it goes it goes.

Thank you for all your kind wishes and messages of support over the last few days. These give me strength during this challenging time.

I’ve got this, and with the help of family and friends I will come through this stronger and wiser. Soon it will be a distant memory.

My hair!!!

Wild, bushy, fluffy, thick, curly, ginger, beautiful. All words used to describe my hair over the years. So much of my identity in those many…… many strands.

If I lose it, do I lose my identity?

Of course not. As a friend kindly pointed out, I am much more than my hair or my boobs. I am tough, loyal, giving, a team player, a parent, a wife, a daughter, a sister and a friend. All of which I can do with or without hair.

For my husband, he has seen many transitions through my hairstyles, from quite severely short, to mid length, to long and back to mid length. This will just be another phase.

However, my hair ritual has always been very important to me. I have attended the same salon every six weeks, for sixteen years!! It isn’t just about my hair itself, it’s about the routine as my sister pointed out. The chat, the magazines, the cup of tea, the head massage and the connections are just as important as what is being done to my hair.

So today I went for my last full hair experience before chemo. Cut, colour, massage, blow dry and style. Plus the chat, magazine, tea, hugs and pamper. The girls made me feel special and today’s experience made me come to a decision.

I will fight for my hair, but I won’t put myself through hell to save it.

I have been deliberating over whether to try the cold cap offered to some chemo patients. The idea is to take the scalp temperature right down and constrict the blood vessels, reducing the amount of drug reaching the hair follicles. It is exactly what it sounds like, and means enduring an ice cream headache possibly for the duration of treatment (around three hours). Although some say after 15 minutes you go numb. It may or may not work.

So, I’ve had a chop to get good scalp contact and I’ll give it a try. If it doesn’t work or is too unbearable ………… well bald will just be my next phase.

One thing is for sure, hair or not, I can still go to the salon every six weeks for a massage, cuppa and a chat. I’ll be welcomed with open arms and it will help me to feel ‘normal’

Asking for and accepting help

This is a continuation of my last blog post https://theboobee.blog/2025/02/19/to-tell-or-not-to-tell/. What happens once people know…..

I have never been very good at accepting help. I never, never ask anyone for help, because in my mind it is a sign of weakness. To me, it means I am not capable of sorting myself out. I would rather ‘bust a gut’, ‘run around like a headless chicken’ and almost systematically feed my anxiety, just to prove I can do it all.

But the situation I now find myself in, has made me look back and realise how silly that all sounds. Who was I trying to prove myself to??

The answer of course is……………. me. No one else ever put that pressure on me or expected me to do everything…………… except perhaps my children. But, that is purely because I created that kind of environment and those expectations at home. I did so much for them, that it became an expectation.

In this modern world, everyone is busy and caught up in their own stuff. None of us are immune. Sometimes we completely loose sight of those around us and what they can do for us, but also what we can do for them. We are afraid to put burdens on each other because we are barely coping with our own shit, without taking on someone else’s.

But when something like the big C comes along, somehow an army of people around me, created space in their lives to help. From meals and baking that arrived on my doorstep, to the crafts and activities, to the friend who sat and crafted with me, to those that drove me places, to those that made sure my children were doing ok, to medical advice and supplies, to today’s homegrown vegetable delivery and weeks of beautiful messages of support.

I didn’t ask for any of it, but I certainly appreciated every single bit of it. And for the first time I was able to accept it all without feeling terrible about troubling people. It’s because I felt like a had a valid excuse to accept it! (So silly) But what I noticed, was how much they were getting out of it too. Not only was it helping me, it was helping them to feel useful and needed.

It is proven that volunteering is one of the most healthy things you can do for yourself. It offers a sense of fulfilment, breaks your daily routine and offers new relationships. The whole crux of being needed as a volunteer is that someone asked for help in the first place. Nothing to be ashamed of, but something to be celebrated. It shows bravery, self awareness and a healthy knowledge of boundaries and capabilities.

So, one of the many things I am learning on this is journey, is that it is okay to admit you need help, to accept the help of friends and family as well as strangers. You never know what beautiful relationships may develop.

I received a message of well wishes the other day from a lady whose dog my daughter and I walked for 2 years when she was not able. We developed a special relationship that I had almost forgotten about because I was too ‘busy’. Her circumstances changed and we rarely see her. Having heard my news, she sent messages of love and support.

It reminded me that, although it is impossible to keep every relationship alive and current, we can always send our love when needed, and whatever little thing we can do to help, will be appreciated. And, above all……… when you need it……….. never be afraid to ask for help.

P.S Let’s see if I can heed my own advice!

To tell or not to tell?

Sorry……. probably tears again.

When these kinds of diagnoses occur, the person involved has to make so many choices. Not the least of which, is who to tell and when. This is very individual, and something that may change along the way. Your wants and needs ebb and flow.

For me, the first big hurdle was whether to tell the family at Christmas. Our children knew about my appointments and asked how it went. We are a very open family and I could not lie, so they knew things weren’t good the evening of the 23rd.

A close friend who always shares Christmas Eve with us, knew the minute she walked in the door something was up. She didn’t ask, but after a few drinks I shared my news. We had a cry. It was still so raw, yet I took comfort in knowing she was behind me and ready to assist.

On Christmas Day, we always start with a swim in the shark net. My husband went alone. I was not allowed to swim following the biopsy and I had barely slept. I decided to reserve my energy for the family. I knew it would be a tough day.

Our swimming friends were surprised not to see me. My husband told them why, naturally they were shocked but they were there for him, something I am very grateful for. My first messages of support started rolling in.

I decided I would conceal my news from the family. I didn’t want to ruin everyone’s day. But, like my friend, Mum new something was up. We had gathered for brunch and I just couldn’t face the pile of food in front of me. She asked if I was sick………….. I said……… I think so…….. and it all came out.

When I think about it, it was actually the best time to tell them. At least we were all there to support one another, Christmas is the only time of the year this happens. I opened a bottle of bubbles and Mum and I drank our sorrows away. While everyone else fussed around, sorting food, offering support and explaining things to the kids. We had each other.

It made me realise, that getting it out in the open was going to help me immensely. I needed to feed off the support of others. I found it very difficult to talk about, but a few days after Christmas I started messaging my friends and colleagues. I will be forever grateful that I did. Although I didn’t feel strong enough to see them, the messages of support gave me so much strength.

In my previous blog https://theboobee.blog/2025/01/31/finding-strength/, I talked of how my knowledge gave me the ability to be strong. True, but it was my friends and family that made it a reality. In the wee hours, when I lay awake thinking about what was next, I reread those messages of support over and over. I drew strength from them and I knew I could go forward and beat this thing.

As you all know, I have now opened my circle even wider and I am considering ways to make it wider still. As I said at the start, it is a very individual choice as to when you let people in. When you, and only you (as the person going through this) feels the time is right. For many, the battle may remain a secret for a long time or maybe even forever. That is your choice.

For me, letting people in gave me tremendous comfort. Not only that, it gave me the bravery and brawn to put it all out there, to be raw and honest. And this appealed to one of my biggest moral values, to help others (it’s why I do my job, why I take on so much). But you all made me feel that maybe I have a role to play. Sharing my story and my knowledge could help others in more ways than one.

It’s not just about breast cancer. It’s about sharing your problems, allowing yourself to be vulnerable and allowing people who care about you to shoulder some of the burden. I have learnt a great deal about human nature in the last few weeks. I am not alone in wanting to help others, it is a very common and noble trait. We just have to allow people to actually do it, to say yes when they offer support and remember that it actually helps both parties.

A x