30th September 2007

Well, canoe man came back after a spell competing abroad.   We met up and because we’d discussed perhaps getting away somewhere on his bike by email, I showed him my new motorbike gear, (courtesy of our sponsors).  I modelled it all excitedly for him: the new black helmet, (extra small), new gloves, (large for a small chick), boots, (also largish for a small chick) and black jacket, (extra small).  For some reason it all looks extra large on me irrespective of sizing.  My brother laughed at me in my gear and said I looked like a burnt match. I realised his description of me was spot on – a huge black helmet on little legs which probably did little to impress canoe man.  I didn’t care though; I was excited as I was hoping to road test my gear somewhere with him and his bike.  I’d been holed up since my diagnosis in April in Nottingham and felt like the only place I’d visited was the City Hospital.  The prospect of a mini break was too much.

I won’t be getting a mini break though now.  We had a small ‘misunderstanding’ and he baled out.  It’s a shame because I really liked him and we had fun.  Meeting someone during all this was great but a bit challenging at the same time!  It’s been a difficult year and I’m really tired, so a relationship probably wasn’t a good idea.  I’m feeling disappointed but when I think about it, I’m not sure he really wanted to acknowledge that I’d had cancer anyway.  I thought it strange that he didn’t offer to sponsor me for the half marathon.  How do I feel at the moment? – like a relationship disaster zone.  I feel like a barren, scree mountain that no one wants to conquer -  you’ll be needing your crampons and ropes for this one!  I’ll probably just get myself a cat and call it ‘darling’ instead.  Mum gave me some good advice, she’s so right: “It’s shit Lou, now just move on!”

Now a psychologist once warned me never to go out with a sportsman as they tend to be quite single minded.  I guess it’s what gives them that competitive edge.  I’ve ignored this advice on two occasions now.  The first time, I ended the relationship when I realised I’d never be enough for him.  Mainly because I found out he’d placed an ad on the internet for sex with couples!  Now, I’m not tarring canoe man and other sports men with the same brush because that particular guy was seriously odd! 

As always, Ali was there for me and so was Elsie Mo, (2 and ½ pints of her in fact).  It was only after all my outpourings that I found out Ali had had a crap day too – she was woken up early on her day off, had taken someone to A and E to have stitches to a gash in their head, and finished the afternoon by cooking and clearing up after her 2 brothers, her daughter and the dog.  Then she ended up consoling an oversensitive, ‘just dumped’ lady in the pub.  She’s also having bad pain in her right shoulder and has found a lump there which she jokes about – she claims it’s the beginnings of angel wing’s growth.  Now, I’m sure it’s muscular pain but I know she thinks it’s cancer related. 

Have you noticed how life has a way of rubbing it in at crap times like this?  I went out with my friends last night to continue my real ale education.  I think my favourite is Elsie Mo but I don’t like Landlord which is supposed to be Madonna’s favourite drink.  Now just as I was getting some sisterly love and support from the girls, I must have been giving out some very strong and strange pheromones because I started attracting a lot of unwanted male attention. 

The first was a man in his 50’s whose approach was, “Don’t I know you?”.  I fended him off by telling him straight, he didn’t.  The second was an older man with some teef missing who kept looking at my arms and finally asked if I was a climber.  We managed to shake him by moving but the third man’s efforts topped them all.  He was a 50-something Ronnie Corbett look-alikee who took my coat hostage and threatened to return it only if I let him buy me a drink.  I heard a huge internal sigh at this point coming from my body and told him to keep the coat.  He was persistent though; it was like having one of those Jack Russell things with its teef attached to your trouser leg.  I remained polite; I think that’s my problem, I’m too polite.  Eventually he offered to send me on an all expenses paid holiday to the Pyrenees and when that failed he tried to rope in support from my friends by offering to send them too.  I think Jo was up for it.  “I’ve just been dumped,” I said, “and I’m enjoying being with the girls and I’m really not interested in a relationship anymore, thank you”.  Well, apparently, “Love is a wonderful thing. Love has the power to move mountains and that man is MAD!” for dumping me.  Again he offered me the holiday, with no invoices!  We’re not stupid you know guys; I know I’d have had to sleep with Ronnie Corbett to get that holiday.  Eventually, we left that pub.

Later, I attracted a 4th man.  I know you’re thinking it’s got to get better, hasn’t it?!  Well, no.  I think this one was on something because he excitedly told me that he knew I’d been having a bad time recently but to mark his words; in the next year my life would be completely turned around!!  He was so convinced of this and determined to convince me too that it started to freak me out.  Just as I was getting over the freakiness of it all with half a pint of London Pride, Mystic Meg man would pop up out of nowhere, look into my tired, red eyes, waggle his finger and say, “Mark my words, I PROMISE YOU!”  I’d really like to “mark his words” but I’m finding it hard to believe in happy endings at the moment!

My pheromones appeal to nutters, quite obviously.

We’re on the bikes this Tuesday 2nd October so you might want to keep off the roads!  We’ve had some exciting offers of support too recently.  I’ll tell you more about them soon!

22nd September 2007

Great news! – we raised over £500 for Cancer Research and the Lavender Trust and I got a personal best with my time in the Robin Hood half marathon! – 1hour 51.  Thank you to all my sponsors!  More about that later, we’ve got a bit of catching up to do first.  The truth is it’s been a busy week with my parents visiting and so much eating, drinking and family stuff to be done.  I’ve also been working hard and looking after canoe man’s allotment whilst he’s abroad.  I can’t work out whether this is a sign of trust or exploitation!  Only joking, I’ve been eating some tasty raspberries including albino ones which I didn’t know existed.

Before the half marathon, Central News came to film me pretending to train for it.  Well, the thought of my little sparrow legs sticking out of my shorts on local television was not a happy one but I put on my breast cancer care running vest and a smile and got out there along the Embankment of the River Trent.  I ran up and down, first too fast and then very slowly so they could film.  During the interview bit, I came very close to saying, “I’d like to thank the guys at Nottingham Touch Rugby for entering me,” but switched to “…for putting me in for the half marathon,” at the last moment. That would have upset my dad for sure! 

I was feeling pretty uncomfortable this time as the emphasis was on what I had achieved over the past 5 months and in all honesty, whilst I’m proud that I kept my training going around 2 operations and through radiotherapy, I can’t help thinking about Jane Tomlinson, who sadly, died recently.  She ran, cycled and swam incredible distances whilst undergoing chemotherapy and enduring terrible pain from cancer.  She was an amazing woman.  My achievements feel pretty small in comparison.

I was starting to get a headache.  It was a sunny day and there were lots of people around enjoying the weather by the river during their lunch breaks.  Suddenly, as I set off on a run towards the reporter, a loud, man’s voice yelled nastily from the other side of the river, “RUN YOU, ‘C U Next Tuesday’!! (Take the 4 capital letters from that bit to make a particularly nasty insult.).  I stopped running in shock and looked across the river to find the source.  It came from a group of drinkers who regularly sit along that bit of the river. I was already feeling uncomfortable before it happened and with the silence that followed and the stares in my direction, I felt crushed.  We tried again and the same thing happened, so eventually we moved on.  Now, it might have been funny if it had been said in a different tone of voice or with a less offensive word but when you broadcast that particular word in public, everyone freezes, I think even the geese and swans stopped swimming for a while.  It gave an ominous, black feeling to my day that I just couldn’t shake.

Later, I was on my way over Trent Bridge on foot when I looked down and saw a couple of drinkers were still there.  I decided to go and see them.  On my approach, I did a quick risk assessment.  There were 2, older men, sat on the grass, clearly mellowed by booze and a man with a dog who had stopped for a chat.  I knew that if I kept my distance, I could be off before they even had a chance to stumble to their feet. 

I said hello to them with a smile and then asked if they had been there during the filming.  “Yes,” they said, they had.  “Which one of you shouted, “Run you C***!” at me?” I asked politely.  Now, I had been taking a light hearted approach until now but I think I had badly misjudged my mood because a shaky, emotional voice took over for the next bit and I realised how angry I really was.  No one took responsibility.  “So, he’s not here?” I said to clarify.  “No,” they replied meekly.  “Well, when you see him, can you please tell him that I’m the C***, my name is Lou and the reason they were filming is that I’m running the half marathon for charity and I have cancer, so next time he wants to shout something like that, he might like to think about it first. Thank you!”  With that I turned my back on their astonished faces and marched off across the grass defiantly.  “Flower, flower, come back…” they called softly.  At this point, without turning, I showed them my hand and said “That’s all I have to say,” and carried on my defiant grass march.

Moments later I realised one of them was following me.  I turned and saw, lurching towards me not through the drink, but because of a terrible crippling limp, was one of the men looking sad.  I felt instant guilt and regret.  “Petal, I’m homeless, I have cancer too and my wife is in the nick,” he confided.  “Oh bloody hell!”, I thought, “That’s typical, for once I decide to make a stand for justice and not only do I target the wrong person but he has cancer too!”  I sympathised and explained apologetically why I was so angry.  He told me none of his friends would have passed such a comment and even offered to sponsor me!  I can only hope that a skewed kind of justice took place later when he found the guilty party and told him the story of the angry marching lady in the black dress.  My sister in law, Rach, laughed when I re-enacted the hand and the defiant grass march for her – it was quite funny after the event.  And the moral of this little story is: “Leave it! – You can guarantee that your quest for justice will backfire and there’s always someone worse off than you!”

The Wednesday before the half marathon, I caught the bus to the City Hospital for my Zoladex injection.  Now, I’ve given some injections in my time as a student nurse but none like that, it was a big one.  It inserts an implant under the skin of your stomach which works for a month.  I held off starting the Tamoxifen after talking to the nurse because the side effects can be immediate and hot flushes often occur at night.  I wanted some quality sleep before the half marathon so I started the Tamoxifen the Tuesday afterwards.  I am now officially menopausal.  It turns out my fears of becoming a wrinkled old prune overnight are not so fanciful – the drop in oestrogen speeds up the process of skin aging.  Marvellous and how ironic, I might finally begin to look my age!  No side effects to report yet – I’m sweating at night but I think it’s down to my winter duvet!

I finally had my Occupational Health Appointment after a 5 week wait and received the go ahead to return to nursing.  The appointment was like pulling teeth – I had to go through the entire history of my cancer whilst it was written down by hand.  I’m sure a letter from my own GP could have saved time and money and yet another appointment – have I not had enough by now!  A good thing that came out of it, however, was that it highlighted a lack of pastoral care and I hope that following the Doctors suggestions, there will be a better system in the future to support students who have to go on ‘interrupt’ like me.  I am a little worried that I’ll now be labelled a troublemaker for exposing flaws in a system…

And now…the marathon!  What a fantastic autumnal day for it!  Beautiful colours and cool weather which was perfect for running except for a strong wind at times.  The atmosphere was great and I bumped into a few friends along the way.  I took a fall in Wollaton Park whilst trying to shout hello at my cousin, Charlotte, as I ran under her nose.  I hit a kerb and found myself flying forwards, surfing the air like superman.  It was not an unpleasant feeling actually.  I could hear some gasps in the crowd and I was worried for a nanosecond but realised I was unhurt, jumped up and ran on.  I was having a great time until the last 3 miles.  At the ten mile mark, a man was supporting the runners with a deathly slow hand clap which had something very demotivating about it and I started to feel ill.  I thought I had pushed myself too hard at this point and doubts popped into my head – maybe I had bitten off too much and expected too much from my body… stop running and start walking…  Just then I spotted a clock with the race time and I thought “Go for it Lou, under 2 hours, DO IT!!”  The last 3 miles were not good, especially when I passed a body outstretched on the Embankment with an ambulance crew attending it.  As I came towards the finish line I pushed and knew I’d done it under 2 hours, but I didn’t realise I’d broken my previous time in 2001 though!

Mum and I cried, realised people were staring and then laughed a bit.  Apparently, she and my sister in law, Rach, had cried watching me approach the finish line and a lady spectator had said to them, “Why are you crying? – it’s not a bad time that!”  Later on, I did a spot of gardening and then mum and I cooked a roast.  Not bad for an old, menopausal lady who has just run 13 miles, eh?  I felt tired but good! 

What’s next?..  It’s the return of the motorbike training!  Stay off the roads!!…

ps. I’d like to thank the City Council for considering and rejecting my plea of poverty over my recent parking fine.  I have been fined for parking outside my own house because the parking permit my neighbour loaned me was 2 days out of date and neither of us realised. The car was also on loan for a week from a friend so I could get to hospital more easily for my radiotherapy treatment.  Some of my benefits are on their way to you.  Thank you, parking police, for protecting my right to park outside my own house!

Oooh, I’m such a troublemaker!

9th September 2007
Ali and I were involved in a nasty incident this week.  We were on our way to our local bank to drop off details of our charity motorbike trip around Europe in order to open a “Breast Quest 2008″ account when we became stuck behind a big black Lexus.  The car was obviously waiting for someone in the bank but was blocking everyone by doing so.  We waited patiently for a while before I pointed out that the car had black blinds across it’s back window and perhaps the owner couldn’t see us.  Eventually, Ali gave the car a gentle ‘parp’ to nudge the owner on.  There were parking spaces a few metres away.  “PAAAAAARRRRRP!!!” came the reply from the Lexus drawing the attention of people both inside and outside the bank.  We looked at each other in surprise at the rude reply.  The car sat blocking the way until at last a woman emerged from the bank.  As she was getting into the Lexus, I thanked her in a light hearted manner out of the window.  “Thank you, yourself!!” she said nastily and got in.  The lady and the Lexus owner then had a little chat and decided to make us wait further in order to teach us a lesson.  Eventually they edged slowly forward, stopping and starting just to show us who was controlling the situation.

At this point we started laughing, finding the whole situation a bit ridiculous.  Still believing we couldn’t be seen by the Lexus driver, I laughingly flicked a V sign at the car’s blacked out windows.  Then I realised the Lexus driver could see us very well because an angry head popped out, desperately trying to crane itself round to face our car and began yelling aggressively at me.  “Ooops! I think they could see us after all,” I said to Ali.  Ok, I shouldn’t have flicked my V’s but we were a bit frustrated by all the rudeness by now.  The head went off on a rant but for the most part we could only make out the ‘eff’ word.  Funny how you can hear the ‘eff’ word so well and how ugly it makes people look.  The rant ran along the lines of: “Don’t you effin flick your fingers at me!! I demand an effin apology.”  And was followed by a lot more loud effin which just became a torrent of eff’s in the end.  Onlookers were following events closely by now.

Lexus lady eventually drove forward and we followed, pulling into a nearby parking spot so we weren’t blocking others.  By now Ali and I were giggling nervously, not fully understanding how the incident had escalated into an attack when the driver popped her head out of the window again.  “What is she effin laughing at?”  “What are you effin laughing at?”  “I want an effin apology. You’re effin RACIST you are!”  The Lexus driver was an Asian lady.  More effin followed and Ali tried to explain to the woman we were laughing at her rudeness and politely asked her to go away (without using any ‘eff’ words) but Lexus lady couldn’t drop it.  She continued telling the whole of Tudor Square that we were effin racist and people were having a good look by now at the two racist ladies standing by their car.  My heart was thumping in my chest as I was actually a bit scared by what was going on.  The whole incident was so nasty I think I expected it to end in gun shot.  When the car eventually drove off again, a head reappeared for a last time on reaching a junction, and continued it’s racist claims to the square whilst beeping the horn angrily which confused oncoming cars.

Ali and I felt pretty embarrassed as we walked into the bank and faced the stares of the bank customers.  They may as well have announced our entrance on the tannoy – “Hey bank customers! The 2 racist ladies are just entering the bank!”  We dropped off our bank letter after an embarrassing wait and sought refuge in a pub.  Walking up to the barman, Ali said with a deadpan face: “I’ll have a double coke and vodka please.” “Make mine a triple,” I said.  The young barman raised his eyebrows.  It was only 3pm.  We changed the order. “Diet coke with ice please,” said Ali “Purple J2O with ice please,” I said.  In order to make sense of the incident and smoothe out our knitted brows, we had a little chat about angry people, and decided Lexus lady was heading for a heart attack and ironically, it was she, in truth, who was the racist.  We managed to feel slightly better but it still put a real damper on our afternoon.  There are some scary people around, both men and women.

I had the chance of losing my rag this week too when the breast care nurse offered to book me in for the first of my monthly Zoladex injections to reduce my oestrogen levels and induce a fake menopause. The treatment lasts for 2 years.  I hate taking medicine and pills so I chickened out and booked an appointment for this Wednesday instead because I’ll also be starting Tamoxifen, (to block oestrogen production), at the same time.  I will take Tamoxifen for 5 years and common side effects include: hot flushes, sweats, weight gain, nausea and indigestion.  The less common ones include depression, headaches and a small risk of endometrial cancer.  From the Zoladex injections, I may experience the following: loss of libido and dry ladies bits, (marvellous – just now I’ve met someone), joint pain, weight gain, hot flushes, tiredness and loss of periods.

Basically, it sounds like I will be entering a false menopause, putting on weight, (without the joy of overeating), having hot flushes and losing my sex drive.  Wow!  No wonder I end up with headaches and depression!  In my mind, I imagine canoe man, (who has just gone abroad again), returning in 2 and half weeks to find an aggressive, wizened old hag with headaches and violent mood swings who is only interested in slippers and a cup of cocoa at night.  No offence to menopausal women – it’s just my way of coping.  To preserve the old Lou I’m taking precautions – lots of vitamin E, red clover and a healthy diet coupled with lots of running.  I will not be buying any cocoa, horlicks or ovaltine.

Blimey, I really didn’t appreciate all that my brother and sister in law had to go through with her breast cancer, (or anyone with cancer for that matter), and I’ve had it easy in comparison!  Meeting someone amidst all this has been challenging and strange in an interesting kind of way.  I am constantly surprised that he still wants to see me and I’m not sure how much he knows.  We don’t talk about cancer much and I certainly don’t want to discuss my menopause with him!  I try to keep the little details of my treatment hidden but I had a huge shock this week when, whilst trying to find out if he was member of MySpace by using the site’s search facility, (and keying in his email address), it sent him a direct invitation by email to join instead, (and read my blog)!  What a misleading and underhand search facility that is!  I broke out in a cold sweat but I played it down by asking him to ignore the email and am just hoping he does!

With the prospect of my early menopause, I have been frantic too – frantically looking at passing young men!  Only looking!  It’s very strange, almost as if I think I am about to lose something but I’m not sure what.  At the moment however, I’m a little preoccupied with the thought that next Sunday (16th) I will be running the Robin Hood half marathon because I’m nursing a sore throat and a running injury.  I went for one of my last long runs today and was struggling towards the end when some lads shouted at me “Keep running Love.”  “You can do it!”  “I can!” I shouted and thought back over the last months of training.  3 of my previous attempts at running this half marathon have failed last minute due to a running injury, torn hamstrings from my first attempt at water skiing and tonsilitis.  I last ran this half marathon in 2001. 

This time I have managed to keep running through operations, radiotherapy, a running injury, a sore breast, jogger’s nipple, feeling poorly, jogger’s belly and all the days when I woke up in a black mood thinking “What’s the point?”  Suddenly my legs felt lighter and I realised this half marathon is special because of what it means personally.  Of course I’ll be doing it for all the great sponsorship I’ve been given, but it’s also taught me something about myself.  I know that if I want to do something in the future, I have the strength to do it.  Even if it means having to make a compromise, (like walking the half marathon for example), I’ll do it.  Of course, I might always doubt my ability – just then a little voice in my head said, “But are you sure you can keep running an extra 30 minutes to the end on the day Lou?”  I was surprised by the voice that replied.  “Of course I effin can!” it shouted back, as I ran across a football pitch.