CHAPTER 1 What can I say? Work, COVID, lockdown, the dreaded Brexit, all things occupying my mind over the past two years, annoying me, annoying my family and friends, ever present, all consuming. An exciting time at Darling with our online magazine blossoming and growing. Our shop site was coming on nicely and our summer print issue about to launch, everything went into slo-mo as Boris rubbed his hands, flung open the doors of restaurants and fitness clubs. That day Gordon and I sat opposite our lovely GP and heard the news. My cancer journey had begun.
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My birthday before the news -
Carefree lunch at The Ivy with my dear friend Elaine
I hope this will be useful and help to give people information and inspiration, and with the support of my brilliant co-editor, Marja-Leena, my husband Gordon and my children, I’ll give it a go. So rewind about three years when I first had a twinge of abdominal pain, putting it down to indigestion from a pasta pig-out I had had. I thought better go easy on the spaghetti if I’m on the way to Crohn’s, God forbid..! (Now how I wish it was Crohn’s) Then a year later another bout and the final one lasting two days with a hot water bottle on my tummy. I decided to contact a doctor. Dr Somani kindly tested for H Pylori and did some bloods. All negative. I was relieved.
My friend Alison wasn’t. Her friend Jackie had similar pains and eventually got to the bottom of those with disastrous consequences. Alison kept at me to ask for a scan. I half-heartedly did and after a slightly worrying ultra sound scan came back, the Dr sent me for an MRI. Well it’s better to be safe than sorry, right? Still blissfully unaware of what awaited.
Fast forward to the 17th May and the news. ‘You’ve got cancer’. I remember walking back to the car in a numb state. We needed some basic provisions, so I quickly popped into Waitrose still not really computing what had just happened. I walked around scanning stuff and at the checkout was asked to do a random rescan. In my distracted state seems I had forgotten to scan a small bottle of milk and I just lost the plot. I burst into tears, my husband came rushing in, the staff were totally bewildered.
Things moved quickly from there. The amazing NHS snapped into action and a quick succession of further scans and blood tests ensued. I had an appointment with a gastric consultant and got assigned a wonderful specialist nurse called Megan. I felt in wonderful hands.
The MRI scan was a scary prospect, the unknown. You lie in the tunnel being told to breathe very evenly and to stay absolutely still for 30 minutes. The instructions are to breathe in, breathe out, hold. Well the first time I completely breathed out but had to hold for about 15 to 20 seconds. It was torture and I had to gasp for air. After that I didn’t breathe it all out but left a bit in the tank so I could actually handle it. It must be no joke if you’re at all claustrophobic. The CT scan is much easier and they put you under a ring so no tunnel and at Kingston Hospital the amazing Cobalt unit is set up on the parking lot. It’s all very efficient and the staff are all lovely. They make you feel very relaxed. My friend Elaine came with me, waited in the car and after that I raced off to tennis at the David Lloyd for my weekly Sunday ‘Ivanka tussle’ and all was well.
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With Elaine waiting in the car, I entered the Cobalt unit -
All done and off to tennis one Sunday afternoon
Next was the very important biopsy to establish what sort of ’tissue’ we were dealing with. In other words, what sort of cancer, what stage and what the treatment was going to be. I was booked in for biopsy 1 early (for me) one morning at Kingston Hospital and I armed myself with books, mags and snacks. The biopsy was short – about 30 mins in all. The doctor administered a local anesthetic. We waited and after a while stuck a 4 inch needle into my liver to extract a sample to study. Then back to the radiography ward to lie on my left side for one hour to stop bleeding and bruising and then lie around texting, doing emails and reading for another 4 hours. That was that. Unfortunately that sample wasn’t successful so about 3 weeks later the whole thing had to be repeated. My friend Sandy took me in the morning, armed with extra magazines and another friend Lynda took me home. A week later the results were in.
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Chauffeur Sandy bright and early -
The lovely radiology team with the efficient doctor on the far left.
On instagram running parallel with this blog @karinescancer
So much more to say and tell, the results, and all the alternative stuff. To be continued…
You may also like to read about other health techniques here.
https://www.cancerresearchuk.org/
