Another club I don’t want to be part of.




I have started this blog a few times. At last here goes. I wrote the last blog unaware that I would be about to have a shift in my own cancer experience. I’ve had many new diagnoses in the last few years. And for all the impact each one has had, they’ve all been remarkable in that they have been localised and therefore primary diagnoses. That means they have not spread beyond my breasts. True I’ve been battered, bruised, had breast removed and reconstructed and then reduced by cancer again but the still the cancer stayed locally. Until now.

A scan earlier this year had suggested I might have had metastases in my hip but that it was static. In order to be sure of that it was repeated two weeks ago. And yes it had remained static. Phew! But…..and it’s a big but…

I have metastases in my liver now. Now that, I wasn’t expecting. In short it means the cancer can not be cured- but it can be treated. I have metastatic breast cancer-another new club you don’t want to be a member of. 

I’m to be started on a parp inhibitor soon that’s had good success in my type of cancer. When I worked for Breakthrough Breast Cancer ( now a merged part of Breast Cancer Now) as the director in Scotland, these drugs were being developed as a result of work in the research labs, along with CRUK. We celebrated these as true breakthroughs and I feel deeply grateful to now benefit from them too. I’m hopeful still and resolved to take a stage at a time BUT not delay doing any fun things I’m keen to do. A few people have asked how I am, and I’m not sure I know. Mostly I feel sad.

Today I got an email from Breast Cancer Now inviting me to Wear it Pink. I’m as likely to wear it pink right now as I am to fly to the moon. I understand these are important fundraising activities for the charity. And these are the funds that support the future breakthroughs that will save lives so please please support them. But if the only way to do that is to prance around in a pink tutu or similar then count me out. 

In spite of my news I’ve not really cried. It doesn’t feel real but I know it’s making memories that will fell me like a punch in the stomach. Or when I see my loss echoed in someone’s face as we speak of my uncertain future. I’m glad to cry, it’s true it’s a release. And so is laughter. You will probably read about both of those if you stick with reading this blog.

Many of you have read this for years, old friends tuning in and now and again, getting in touch to say hello. Thanks for being there, our hidden cheer leaders! 


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