friends – The BooBee Journey

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 💪 💪💪🎉🎉🎉

Treatment 2 – The measles one

So here I am for treatment number 2, the soldiers are back in my body and on their cancer finding mission.

It has been an interesting couple of days with a measles outbreak in Bunbury hospital. This means more hoops and complications (as if chemo isn’t enough). N95 masks for patients and surgical masks for support people. Feels like Covid all over again.

Back to my hair…..my moulting got worse and worse until on Saturday I filled the plug hole in the shower. I questioned the cold cap and wondered whether it was best to just get on with what seemed like the inevitable. Just shave it off and be done with it. The clippers came out and I burst into tears. My husband pointed out that although I had lost a lot, I still had enough. There are no bald patches, it is just thinned. We decided one more try of the cap.

I walked into the oncologist’s office this morning and the first thing she said was “Wow, look at your hair, you must be using the cold cap”. Ha, so it is working!!

We did it again and what a difference. I realise now my hair was so thick at the first treatment, the cold cap didn’t feel that bad because I had a layer of insulation!! At this treatment it felt much colder (but I still coped fine). Hopefully this means a better result…… and I ended up with icicles!!

Icicles and lots of hair left in the cap 😥

Again, I didn’t find the treatment too bad. Having the cold cap makes it a much longer day and they were under the pump in the unit so running behind. But that’s ok, we had plenty to do. We started planning a birthday party, had a visit from a colleague and chatted about the kids. I tried to snooze at one point but there was too much background noise (like people talking to family on speaker phone 😳).

And…….. we found the crazy hat. We still do not understand what it is or how you are supposed to wear it, but it makes us laugh so hard….. and when you are sitting in a chemo ward, laughs are hard to come by.

Watch out for the Dumbo look at treatment 3.

Now, I just take it easy for a few days and let the soldiers do their thing. I can preempt some of the side effects this time so it should be a bit easier. And the good news…… 2 down, 2 to go……. half way 🎉

Getting back in the water!

I got in the car today and the song that came on Spotify was ‘Best day of my life’ by American Authors. I had the biggest smile on my face because I knew it was going to be true….. I was heading to the lagoon!!

The last swim I had was the 7th of January and mentally it has taken its toll. The water has always been where I clear my head and process life.

Boredom set in on Friday last week. For months I had been coping, gently pottering around getting little jobs done and making macrame. But suddenly….. it wasn’t enough and I was beginning to struggle with stillness.

To go from a busy (probably over committed) life, to days that have no structure or purpose, is hard. Friends and family point out, my ‘purpose’ should be to heal and recover but my mind says……surely I can multi-task?!!

So, for days I was struggling internally when it suddenly occurred to me…….. it was time to get back in the water. With the surgery wounds healed and heading into week 2 of treatment when symptoms are starting to subside, I felt strong enough and I knew that even if I just bobbed around, the salt water would soothe me.

I arranged to meet my lagoon buddy and we just did it! It was a glorious autumn morning, slightly crisp but sunny. Surf was good and the carpark was packed. The lagoon itself a turquoise haven, had an interesting current running and swell spilling in.

My anticipation and excitement was palpable. My friend kept me grounded and reminded me to take things very slowly. As we waded into the water, I could feel the tension in my body melting. Diving forward and submerging my head, I was back in my other world of fish, weed, rocks and salt.

My arms started moving automatically and I was swimming. Things felt a little bit odd and there was a tightness in my pectoral muscles stopping me from stretching to my full reach, but that didn’t matter. I made it out to the rock against the swell and I knew I was doing okay.

I managed 700m which I was quite pleased with. It was slow and my legs were like jelly but I was in the water. The further I swam, the more my muscles loosened but in the end, fatigue got the better of me. I lay on my back and floated around gazing at the sky.

Tonight I feel so much better, everything feels a little bit clearer and I am more content with where I find myself. I need to accept that it takes to time heal and enduring boredom is part of the process.

And yes….. today was one of the best days of my life. Hitting the water was like coming home.

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’

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

Missing out – Jetty swim 2025

Warning: This one is a tear jerker….

One of my biggest fears after diagnosis was what I might miss out on this year. Would it effect holiday plans, events with the kids and swimming? An early realisation was ………I would have to miss the 2025 Busselton Jetty Swim. It would be the first time in 15 years I wasn’t out there.

This was particularly devastating for me. It is an event that I am so passionate about. Over the years I have done many solo swims (3.6km) but I have also swum it in duos and teams. These were because I wanted to share this beautiful event with those I love and the kids I coached.

In recent years, I had done the mile, once escorting a beautiful friend and last year because I missed out on a solo entry. Incidentally, that turned out to be one of my most competitive swims, finishing 4th in the old lady’s division!

It never mattered to me which way I was swimming it as long as I was in there. I’ve watched the men and women in their 70s and 80s, blind and disabled. Families, friends and couples achieve their goals. And then there are the people that have overcome huge challenges just to be there. It is so inspiring. The swim’s tagline is ‘everybody’s swim’ and that’s exactly what it is.

Yesterday was the day. I planned to sit at home and have a nice breakfast and look forward to 2026. But a part of me knew there would be an awful lot of ‘poor me’ going on in my brain.

But then my army stepped forward….

The people I had encouraged and hopefully inspired along the way, stood up and did it for me (of course they had their own reasons but I know they were thinking of me). From our friends that meet us for early morning swims in the shark net, to the friend I meet weekly at Yallingup lagoon, to kids I’ve coached, to my friend who had been building her way up to a full solo and overcoming injury……. to my beautiful and courageous son.

They did it for themselves and me.…… and the conditions were horrendous.

For my boy, it was a last minute decision. He hadn’t trained, an ex competitive swimmer who had lost the love. A spot came up and being a lifeguard at the pool, he had listened to the swim coach’s preparations and tips for his squad and he thought…… I can do that.

As a parent, there are many proud moments but I’m not sure anything will top this one for me. It hurt him like hell and as I say the conditions were crap, but he kept going.

His one request was that I was at the finish line. It was a bit of an effort, but of course I got there and this was my reward…

It turns out the 2025 (30th Busselton jetty swim) will be one of the most memorable. As a wise person in my family said ‘I could not have handed the baton to a more reliable person’

And the challenge is set….

He told me last night, he’s training for the solo next year and he’s going to beat me.

Bring it on!!

Home coming

I knew this would be a roller coaster and we all know I was pretty high when I left hospital. Still slightly high on drugs but mainly on adrenaline and dopamine.

It lasted two days at home before the crash. My breathing wasn’t improving and my anxiety was rising. Why wasn’t I getting better? I had my family, my friends, my cat and my bed. Surely I should have been improving.

I dialed a friend. Someone I trust and someone with the knowledge to explain what what was going on. She told me to cut back on the visitors, stop the stimulants (tea, coffee etc), take something to help me sleep but above all, to stay as calm as possible and rest.

And advice from my husband ……………. to stop talking!

Those who know me, know that this would be the biggest challenge yet………. I do not sit still, my Nana called me ‘chitter chat the magpie’ for a reason.

I’ll admit, it may have taken a little pill to do so, but I have heeded the advice and four days down the track I am so much better. My breathing has improved, my brain has settled and the wounds are healing.

I have found a place of peace and stillness in watching Netflix, working on a puzzle and cleaning out and organizing my jewellery box. That sounds like I have a lot of jewels…….. but no, just a few tangled necklaces and bracelets (actually, I do have a lot of earrings).

I have an activity table with puzzles, painting, books, sudoku and the macrame is out! All quiet activities. I am starving and eating the food deliveries with relish. A very positive sign.

So, I am getting there. I may not be seeing many of my friends but I can feel you all right behind me.

A x