Run for your Life!

I have three New Year’s resolutions: to write more (anything - letters, blog, stories, poems etc), to run the Edinburgh half marathon again in May (marking almost five years post diagnosis and five years since I ran a personal best) and thirdly, to learn some Italian!

I have started all three, it remains to be seen how much I actually achieve as I move through the weeks and months ahead!

I was saddened (and probably disturbed?) by the recent Facebook postings of Red Hearts to somehow raise awareness for breast cancer? I would like the opportunity to sit down and chat to the person who thought up this incredulous idea! How is a silent heart going to make a difference to anyone? In order to raise any kind of awareness we need to talk about cancer, shout about it, understand it, take it seriously, but not let it overtake us. We do NOT need to fight it or battle with it. We live with it, alongside it and beyond it. I do not need to bang on about wars, about winners and losers, I’ve said it many times before. If all the Pink charities raise enough money to carry out research, find cures, stop tumours, discover targeted treatments, provide information and support, then I can live with pink (let’s not forget that blue exists too though, with around 350 men a year in the UK developing breast cancer.) But a silent red heart? Come on! Wake up to awareness!

I urge you to take the time to read, digest and act upon the NICE NHS guidelines on being breast aware and then tell all your friends to do the same. That, is raising awareness. Early detection saves lives, don’t ignore any changes. I hear people telling me they’d rather not know if there was anything wrong, they don’t check their breasts and they don’t attend mammogram screening, they just want to get on with their lives in ignorant bliss. If I’d ignored a change in breast tissue in 2012, I would not now be getting on with my life. I would be enduring gruelling, aggressive treatment or facing a poor prognosis.

Raise awareness by sharing and talking about the facts! http://www.nhs.uk/Livewell/Breastcancer/Pages/Breastcancersymptoms.aspx

My trainers had been retired from running for about 18 months. My last race was with Team Stedman in Edinburgh in May 2015, when we ran the Edinburgh relay marathon, raising in excess of £2000 for Sarcoma UK. Our efforts brought a little comfort and joy to our friend Ros, who was at that time not able to run for her life, but merely able somehow, to find the strength to get from day to night and night to day in an increasingly debilitating, painful and frightening world. I took great strength from watching her facing her final days in this world. In the hospice I held her hand and recounted tales of the antics we all got up to on my 50^th birthday, our first visit to a casino, warming and floating brandy goblets in the hot tub under the stars (with a group of middle aged women who didn’t previously know each other) and wild and windy walking on the Ythan Estuary getting close up to the smelly colony of seals! At her bedside we laughed and I spoon fed Ros ice cream, which she devoured.

And so, the trainers are back on my feet and I have strived to get a few kilometres behind me in the last few weeks. I am now up to a reasonably comfortable 7km jog. I have a personal trainer lined up for a couple of trial sessions and a pledge to join the Striders on a Thursday evening. With my previous “frozen shoulder” now surgically cured and never better, I’m on course for a cracking event in May if my body accepts the fitness regime and gains stamina and strength without mishap!

Some people who have recently visited me or who read my FB posts have commented: “You are so lucky!”. Am I? Lucky to have had cancer? Lucky to have lived through, what was at times, a difficult marriage, wondering if we had the strength to hang on, to keep on? Lucky to have tolerated the hard and at times very lonely life that living in our very own “escape to the country” in NE Scotland brought?  I could go on. We all face many challenges. Lucky? I think not. My life is largely one that I have set out to have. I have made choices, I have made changes, I have planned, organised, removed stressful situations and I now infuse my days and weeks with bucket list events, feel good moments and take time just to be.  I am running for my life, running into my life, as life will not run to me, nor, will it run to you. You have to make it, you have to want it, you have to go out and get it. This is not a dry run, a rehearsal or experiment. This is the original and real deal. Look after it well and above all else, embrace it.

Why Italian? Celebrating New Year in Venice was quite simply magical. Anytime in Venice is magical. I have always loved Italy since my very first trip at the age of two! I want to scratch below the surface of tourism and experience a deeper flavour of this country and its people. Being able to order “un aperitivo” is simply not good enough!

Make some changes, make some plans. Be the leading light in your own life.

For now, Ciao. J

New Years Eve in Venice.

Less is More

It’s not so much that the breast cancer has been life changing, my life was already on a path of change at the start of 2012 before the cancer diagnosis. I’d applied to do a university degree (unsuccessful in my application!), successful in my application to do HNC Social care at college, which I should have begun in August, I’d booked myself onto an adventure holiday, the house went up for sale, I studied psychology at evening class and I joined Jog Scotland all in 2012! The timing of surgery meant I was unable to start the full time course or continue with the 10 week evening class. The Sahara trek was put on hold.

What is life changing is that the weekend of my surgery, Maisie moved into halls near college and I have suddenly discovered, after my recovery, that the demands for a la carte dining, all inclusive board, taxi service, hunting for things that have been borrowed, clearing the trail of pots, pans and pants from the floors and surfaces have all disappeared! For as much as it was a full time job looking after teenagers I miss it. Along with the sitting on the kitchen table, legs swinging, deep in debate and conversation over some current topic of news or scandal! Along with the smell of fresh pancakes, splattered hob, sticky maple syrup puddles. Along with snuggles on the sofa watching hours of “Come Dine With Me” or "The Great British Bake Off”!

Two little girls suddenly becoming young ladies and moving into their own flats has been life changing, it just so happened that the cancer came at the same time. The result of the clash of these two events leaves me with a rather large empty space in my daily life and leaves me wondering what I should “do”?

Faced with a huge blank canvas, it would be easy to start splashing paint about and rush into something to fill the time and space. What the cancer has done, is that it has made me think more deeply about what I really want from this life going forward. It is teaching me that sometimes it is better just to “be” rather than to “do”. I have been a doer all my life and have put much of my effort into caring for everyone else, having been a full time mum and part time support worker for over 18 years. The cancer has pointed out that it’s now time to care for myself and to sometimes put myself first! Something many of us woman find difficult! I have always looked for the next challenge, the next achievement but have probably not given enough thought to personal fulfilment and contentment.

I am reaching the decision to move away from my work in support (the huge bouquet of flowers and messages from work made me feel guilty that I could even think about giving up let alone go through with the decision!).

My focus lies with getting myself back into tip top shape mentally and physically, to deal with not only events of the last 3 months but also with the highs and lows of the last six years since our move to Aberdeen. The house and gardens need to be kept tidy, ever hopeful that someone will fall in love with this tower of granite allowing us to take more new paths.

I have ideas as to what I would like to do more of and certainly less of! Despite the ever popular “as one door closes, another opens” I’m afraid the words of Christine Collisters song have spun through my head often, as we rolled from one crisis to another “as one door closes, another door must slam, how cruel this world, how weak I am”.  Yes, of course things never stay the same and when you’re at the bottom there’s a good chance you will soon be climbing back up. We are uneasy waiting for further news of Paul’s job, moral low and internal support fairly non-existent. Not wishing the time away but looking forward to the end of the consultation period on 16^th November so we know one way or another. We are neither of us in a position to be dealing with much stress but are both aware that whatever happens it will not initially, be easy.

Inspired by last night’s TV program “Small Spaces” and a believer that “less is more” I very much look forward to spending happy times in yurts, camper vans, Bedouin tents and the great outdoors! I need somehow to relieve the spells of loneliness that I encounter at times so that means getting out and mixing with people, spending more time with the people who have not given up on us, who seem to enjoy our company, who still have time to make the effort! It’s been surprising who has fallen by the wayside since the cancer diagnosis yet I accept for some it can be a tough one to handle. Accepting and offering invitations to “come and stay” “meet for lunch” “share a coffee”. With my energy levels low it’s been hard to make the effort but I’m very thankful to my assertive friends, even those in far flung places who have kept my spirits up. I didn’t hesitate in accepting an invitation to a chocolate cookery course in Derbyshire in December, or a night at the Royal Opera House in January. Ok,so it’s not always a case of “less is more”, sometimes “more is more”!

My journey begins

I sat in the waiting room on Monday 6^th August at Aberdeen Royal Infirmary, watching the Olympics on the TV screen (which was broken , all the colours green and yellow) Beth Tweddle had just gained Bronze in the Uneven bars. Moments later I was told I had Invasive Lobular Breast Cancer.

I am due to have a left breast mastectomy on 6^th September, three months after first going to my GP.
It was a good weekend. I went to the Fringe Festival in Edinburgh and to Glasgow to see Alice in her new flat. The change was just what I needed. Slept and ate well and felt good yesterday and this morning. Not cried or had painkillers for two whole days! Yippie! Friday was crappy as hospital messed up my MRI appointment. The letter came in the post Friday morning for the day AFTER surgery? They need the results to do the surgery! Meant it would all be delayed? Anyway I got on the phone and sorted it and went in Friday afternoon, sadly had to cancel a play date on the beach in the sunshine with my little friend James.

Hospital had also told me my lymph nodes were clear in the ultra sound but I didn't remember having it done, well of course they haven't done it! Doesn't fill you with confidence.  Have already had to chase results twice. It’s been a long and emotional "waiting game" since the first mammogram on 18th June. Only 4500 UK cases of this cancer a year so I guess Aberdeen haven't seen many? I am going to have to be my usual assertive stroppy self to stay on top of it all every step of the way! (You can do what you like when you have cancer and get away with it!!?)

I am going to our local cancer support centre this afternoon for a massage. I popped into CLAN (Cancer Link Aberdeen & North) on Friday to see the place and see what they offer. The first self help pamphlet I picked up was "Getting Travel Insurance After Cancer"! Need to get my priorities right! Followed by the "Macmillan Recipe Book"!

Ironic that I unknowingly ran the Edinburgh half marathon on 27th May with Lobular Breast Cancer (ILC) knocking 9 mins off my personal best coming in under two hours at 1hr 55mins! And raised £675 for CLAN! A few days after the marathon my Dad was also diagnosed with prostate cancer. I was proud to have completed the race with my 18 year old daughter, Alice.

The story to this point in time..

I was first aware of a "change" in my left breast back around February time. I cant be sure. I was training and put it down to fitness / weight loss. The hardened area, a cm or so was not sore and remained there. After a while I was aware of a small "pea" on the edge of the area. I had been to my GP with various shoulder, neck and arm pains over the previous 18 months and although I underwent two carpal tunnel ops I had been more or less been told I was depressed and menopausal so I avoided the Dr at all costs. I am a fit, generally healthy, assertive and capable 48 year old lady, with two fabulous daughters 17 and 18 and a husband that puts up with me no matter what! Yes life has been extremely stressful at times, for various reasons over the past 6 years since our move to Aberdeen, but I have risen and overcome every challenge and never considered myself depressed! Having completed the half marathon and one evening watching Embarrassing Bodies on TV all about breasts and lumps etc, Paul persuaded me to go the GP. Same old story, it was "nothing" but he would send me for a scan to stop me worrying! Two weeks later I got the appointment, routine mammogram on 18th June, come back for results on 3rd July. Before the results clinic another appointment came to have detailed mammograms done. An unpleasant experience as this time I was severely squashed between the plates causing discharge from my nipple. Following that I saw the consultant. "What seems to be the problem"? I was hoping they would tell me! She examined me not able to feel the “area” until I pointed it out to her. She sent me for ultra sound and then fine needle biopsy. The biopsy came back as “abnormal” but they couldn’t say if it was or was not cancer. She indicated that they didn’t know what was going on. We were sent home to wait for two weeks while the cancer team discussed the findings. Having heard nothing I phoned, unsuccessfully and e mailed to chase results. Mammography phoned me and made an appointment for core biopsy on 19^th July. Two needles for anaesthetic, three biopsies of the “lump” four biopsies of calcifications and a needle to put in a marker. Dr Tanya was fantastic. She said there was something there but they would not know what until they got results in another 14 days or so. I came home and had a massive break down, crying inconsolably in a heap outside. I think that is the point that I was fairly sure it may be cancer. Dr Tanya’s final words as she put her hand on my arm were “You’ve been a brilliant patient Mrs Stedman, I wish you all the very best.

I