Kath

I first came across Kath Marsland when we both started blogging for a breast cancer charity's online magazine.  At that point she was recovering from treatment for primary breast cancer.  Since then we've exchanged emails and messages about life, the universe and everything.

During the next few months Kath, like 30% of all people who have had primary breast cancer, went on to be diagnosed with metastatic breast cancer (the cancer, now incurable, had spread to other parts of the body).  Throughout it all Kath maintained her fantastic sense of humour and sickeningly brilliant (me, jealous?) writing style.

As her disease progressed Kath thoroughly researched her options and had started fund raising to enable her to seek treatment in Germany.  

I'm very sad to say that Kath died just over a week ago, before she had the chance to go to the German clinic.  I read today that Kath had asked that in the event of her death any money raised on her behalf should be donated to Second Hope, the only UK charity focusing solely on metastatic breast cancer.

I'm writing about Kath here because I want to assure anyone who donated to her treatment via my Facebook post that the money will be going to a very worthy cause and, more importantly, because I want to commemorate, in my own small way, the life of a lovely, funny and very talented young woman.  

Some relevant links:

Kath's amazing blog

An article about Kath in the Manchester Evening News 

Information about Second Hope

Bugs

January.  Cor.  It went on a bit, didn't it?  I started and ended the month with the lurgy.  Not a serious lurgy, just the common or garden lurgy that everyone gets but even so.  What with that and the usual chemo stuff it seems like I spent most of January feeling moderately crap.  This is, of course, light weight crap compared to what lots of other people are going through but I'm not going to let something like that stop me from whinging.

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.

 

Pinktober

We’re only 4 days into October and already I want to go to bed, pull the covers over my head and stay there until November. 

Why the despair?  More fool you for asking.  It’s October or, as it’s known in breast cancer patient circles, Pinktober.  Its ‘official’ title is ‘Breast Cancer Awareness Month’.  Not a bad thing in itself I suppose, although I think everyone is aware of it by now and what we really  need is more research.  What really gets my goat is the stupid, inane and downright insulting crap that appears in the name of ‘awareness’ every sodding year.

This year in addition to the usual mindless pink fluffiness (Tickled Pink? yeah Asda what a brilliant name for a laugh-a-minute disease), we have the tremendously badly thought out and completely undignified ‘show your strap’ campaign from Marks and Spencers (google it if you’re interested, I’m buggered if I’m supplying a link to it).  And far, far worse is the ‘set the tatas free’ nonsense appearing all over Facebook.  To add insult to injury the ‘tatas’ thing doesn’t appear to be linked to any charity or to raise funds at all.  It’s just a tasteless bandwagon jumping meme. 

I won’t go on.  A mega rant is not an interesting read nor does it do my blood pressure any favours.  Anyway my pal Kath puts it a million times better than I ever could. 

Enjoy your October.  I'm off to stick my head in a bucket of lager until it's all over.