physical – The BooBee Journey

Realisation….. it’s a long haul

**** Before you read this, know that I am okay, I’m just trying to be true to myself and blog the reality of my situation ****

If I’m honest with you all, the last month has been really hard. I’ve started to write about four blogs but can’t seem to get out what I am trying to say. I don’t want it to be a poor me post, rather a post about the general aftermath of breast cancer treatment because I am 100% sure I am not alone in how I am feeling at the moment.

For five months, I was in a situation where I was going from one appointment to another, ticking of each box in the treatment cycle. I just wanted to get it done and know I had done everything I possibly could to kick cancer’s arse. I was strong and I was determined.

Then I finished.

I thought….. “right, time to get back to normal”, but it appears that is not how this works.

Apparently it takes time.

I am impatient. I want hair, I want normality, I want to work and I want to exercise. Every time I slightly overdo things, my body kicks me in the butt. Presently it’s with a chest infection.

There are many things about treatment you wouldn’t have even thought about. Like the fact I am now dealing with medically induced menopause. It sucks, my hot flushes are relentless and my brain some days struggles to function. But, the worst has been a clash in medication.

I haven’t been shy in the past about writing about my mental health struggles, so why start now? 🤣 For 15 years I have been treated for anxiety. For 15 years I have taken the same antidepressant. Just weeks after enduring the most difficult thing I have done in my life, I discovered this drug would reduce the effectiveness of Tamoxifen (the hormone blocker I will need to take for at least the next five years to reduce the chance of recurrence). I had to stop.

It took a month to wean off it and I immediately started an alternative. I have had support along the way with regular GP visits, psychologist appointment and other alternative therapies through Solaris Cancer Care. It has been done in a calculated and researched manner, but it has been hard. I have felt quite down and at times alone.

In true Amber style, I thought keeping as busy as possible would be the best way through, my psychologist even agreed. But my body did not. I got sick, and my defences just couldn’t fight it. I took antibiotics and carried on. Today I write this from bed, where I should have stayed a week ago.

Realisation…… I’m not super woman after all.

This week has made me realise, I still have a long way to go to heal from this ordeal both physically and mentally. I am telling myself everything will be there waiting when I am ready, but I have to stop thinking about when that might be. There is no timeline.

My hair is a good indication of slowly, slowly, I should heed its wisdom. It’s now two shades of grey instead of white so things can still change.

There you go, I still have a smile on my dial!!

A dose of sunshine and warmth is on the cards this week, just what the doctor ordered. Andy and I are off to Darwin on Friday to celebrate our 20th wedding anniversary. He needs this as much as I do, my rock throughout, but he is exhausted too.

Yay, https://thetravelbee.blog/ will get a run. Absolutely no talk of cancer on that channel!

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!!

The emotions

This one might be longer…..

So right now, I am in a phase of healing. It’s physical right? There are cuts and bruises, wounds and drains. But, it would be silly to think there isn’t a big emotional part to healing.

The Breast Care nurse told me, there will be tears on day 3, that’s when the emotional toll rears its head. I thought….. nah I’m different, I’m not emotional about my boobs. At least that part was true (or has been so far). The emotions came, but it was for something entirely different and very unexpected.

At 3am on Friday (day 3, albeit only just) I woke up with a start. I immediately started to cry. I had a sudden realisation…… to explain it, I have to go back and tell you a few things. Many will know these, others……. well what can I say, soon you will know everything about me!!!!

For many years, I have suffered with anxiety. I’ve had all kinds of treatment; psychologists, medication, strategy plans (one of which is writing). Time and time again the people I spoke to said…… you need to find your trauma. At least two said, it is a childhood trauma.

Sorry just had to stop writing for a cry…. (BTW it is 2:49am two days after the first outburst).

I could never figure it out. I had a good childhood, I grew up supported and loved. I got to play the sports I wanted (although sometimes limited by asthma). I ate well. I swam and I swam. Granted, we were the last people in the street to get a CD player but hey…. that couldn’t be it. All of these are Australia memories, I didn’t really have memories of living in New Zealand (in hindsight, that should have been a clue).

Here’s the interesting bit….

On Tuesday night, I had a terrible time. My asthma flared. I was flat on my back, had little movement, didn’t have the drugs I would normally use and I just could not breathe. I was absolutely terrified.

Bam 💥

It had to happen again for me to see it. There was my trauma right there. I was and therefore am, absolutely terrified of not being able to control my breathing.

As a child, I must have constantly been in this state. As it turns out, I was a very sick little girl. I did know that, but the extent to which, I had completely blocked out. Moving to Australia at 8 years old not only served to provide drastic improvement to my health but it was the perfect place for my little brain to build a wall and lock all of that terror away.

I never processed it. I never grew from it. And it held me back big time.

I’ve had two days to chat to Mum, Dad and my sister. We have shared memories and there has been a lot of ‘Ohhhhhhh, that makes sense now’. It has been a beautiful time for all of us.

I now know, this journey will heal so much. I even wonder if breast cancer could turn out to be the best thing that ever happened to me?

THAT SOUNDS CRAZY but already, it is setting me free.

A (2.0) x