Sisterhood and celebration

One of the things about breast cancer is sadly there are so many of us that have been through it. 1 in 7 women will be diagnosed in their lifetime. In some way it touches us all.

Right from the start, I wanted my experience to help people. With more knowledge than the average patient, I felt I could. But, I am not alone in my plight to help. It seems a common trait amongst those that have suffered. We are all desperate to make it better for the next person.

On the weekend, I attended the Bigger Boobie Ball at Sabina River in Busselton. The brainchild of Carol and Heather, this event gets bigger and more celebratory each year. Raising money for Breast Cancer Care WA is the main aim, but they have a whole lot of fun doing it and it is an opportunity for everyone to come together and celebrate those that have fought this insidious disease.

I was humbled to be asked to contribute my experience to a video that was played on the evening. I had recorded it several weeks prior. It wasn’t emotional, it was factual and direct. My message was clear. Take control, use the amazing services we have in WA and know your body. It was typical Amber.

What I didn’t expect, were the tears rolling down my face when the video came on (although a close friend had predicted it). I’m not entirely sure what happened, or why I was so emotional but I think it was a moment of….. shit, this really happened to me and all since last year’s ball.

Once I gathered myself, I was able to stand proud. Proud of what I got through this year, proud for sharing it and proud of all of my supporters. Without them, I never would have survived it as well as I have. I rang the bell and celebrated ‘feeling like me again’.

Photo credits to https://www.abbymurrayphotography.com/

One of the things I loved most about the evening was the coming together of breast cancer sisters. The photo below, shows a few of the group we call the ‘Shitty Titty Committee’. We stand together and make sure no one goes through this alone, we ask each other questions, we share experience and head coverings, we find funny in the not funny.

But this picture is my moment…….. each of us has just rung the bell to celebrate our own unique milestone and Heather has asked if there is anyone else present who would also like to ring the bell. We look so happy to see someone we don’t know step forward, courageous and brave, ready to ring the bell. We have no idea who she is or her story, but we know she is one of us. She is part of our sisterhood.

Photo credits to https://www.abbymurrayphotography.com/

As we like to say in the Shitty Titty Committee…. ‘shittiest club but best members’. The frightening fact that struck everyone as we stood there glammed up and happy, was how young we all were. Maybe the older ladies were at home, maybe the drag queens and music and dancing and food and Boobie golf and silks show was too daunting…….. or maybe this disease is beginning to strike younger…….

Either way…. it sucks (the older ladies would have loved the night).

Ax

Another milestone – debuting the hair in public!

Another month has gone by and to be honest not much has changed. This healing business is slow and the knock on effects of chemo just keep on giving!

Mentally I’m up and down. There are many days where I feel like myself, only to have a little setback and my mind runs wild with dooms day scenarios. I agonise over why certain things are not improving and try linking it to what I am doing, eating, saying, thinking or feeling. It’s exhausting.

But…… there are positives and I am celebrating the small wins.

Today I went out for coffee with a group of beautiful breast cancer survivors. I felt safe and inspired, so I took my hat off….. in a cafe! I don’t want to hide it anymore, I want to own it……. greys and all.

Winning!

It’s a major step forward and will only be hindered by the horrible weather we are having!! It is too cold to sit beside a soccer pitch in the rain without a beanie, hair or no hair!!

Nearly 3 months since last round of chemo

About six weeks ago I started in the gym with a physiotherapist who specialises in breast cancer rehabilitation. The aim was to get some strength into those muscles of mine that have sat idle for months, but in a careful and safe way. I felt so weak.

For the first time this week, I noticed a real difference when I completed a set of exercises I couldn’t do a fortnight earlier. My strength is returning. I’ll be ready for the ski field by January yet!

Winning.

There are many health issues cropping up that are unexpected, annoying and embarrassing. The only thing I can do is concentrate on celebrating the small wins.

I’m not normal me (I honestly thought I would be by now). I don’t even know what normal means anymore but I am starting to come to terms with the fact I am forever changed.

Ax

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!

Ax

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!

Crazy – no name for this style

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.

Communications board

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!

Celebration lunch

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.

Ax

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.

Had to wear the BooBee T-shirt too!

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.

Cold cap sexiness

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.

Ax

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.

Lending a helping hand

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.

Ax

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