And the weather. The sodding, sodding weather. Grey, miserable, windy, rainy. Precious few of those sunny, chilly, crisp days that make winter bearable, even enjoyable. In fact I think we've only had one frost this winter. Which is probably why bugs, of all varieties, abound. I'm full of germs, the garden is full of slugs and the cat is full of fleas. Here he is, like me, feeling sulky.
I had my latest CT results toward the end of January. Dear God I was scared. I'm always frightened going for results but this was worse than usual. I suppose it's because I know I'm running out of treatments. There are a couple of chemos left for me to try but once all possibilities are exhausted there is nothing left but palliative care. Of course, I knew this all along since day one of being diagnosed with metastatic breast cancer, but as the time comes nearer it all gets scarier and scarier. My pal Kath has put it a million times better than I ever could. Read what she has to say here.
Anyway, this time I was lucky. The CT showed stable disease. Also, more good news, the medical bods are pretty sure that the stabbing pains I get in my chest and side are nerve related (from the surgery). However, as I have now had 54 cycles of chemo the time has come, according to my onc, to give the chemo a rest and try a hormonal treatment, exemestane. While I will be delighted to have a break from chemo, cannulas and all the associated palaver, I am a bit concerned about stopping a treatment that seems to be working. I've checked this with the onc but she's definite that I need a rest and I assume she knows her onions. I'll have another scan in three months time to see how things are going.
Although this has been a bit of a mega-moan January hasn't been all doom and gloom. There's been the trip to see the other-half's nephew in panto (oh yes there has), my hair finally getting long enough to discard hats and scarves and, above all, sister no 2's latest foray into crochet. A Death Star. I kid you not.