Hi Fran,

My cancer was diagnosed straight to stage 4. It's primary was oestrogen positive (hormone receptive) invasive ductal breast cancer and had spread throughout both lungs and liver before I knew I had it.

2011 was very traumatic for me and my family, and I won't pretend it's been an easy ride cos it hasn't. But I am still here today over 8 years later, and enjoying a pretty active life. My medical treatment to date has been hormone therapy (tamoxifen and Zoladex) and initial vigorous "palliative" chemo.

As far as I know, clinical trials can be accessed through your medical team if they are appropriate. I have not taken advantage of any yet, as I believe that once I have undergone one study that excludes me from others; I'm hanging on for a bit.

I totally understand where you're coming from. I was utterly terrified too. And, to tell the truth I still am sometimes as I know that it will (most likely - see always hopeful! lol) always be with me. But I also see that, after diagnosis, there might be some long time to live WITH the cancer. Modern treatments are improving, and my hope is perhaps even to survive by "surfing on the wave of new treatments".

Summer 2011, aged 44, I decided that I only had enough fight for one approach. I was tired, and had a lung full of fluid, and not breathing too well. I was trying to "come to terms with" the short prognosis as well as looking into ways I could help myself to stay in control and survive longer. I was too weak to both accept the death scenario, AND tackle the cancer at the same time. People used to give me such "sad eyes", and I used to get really cross with them, poor things! Someone even suggested that I was "in denial"! I wasn't in denial; I know exactly what I am lumbered with. But I made a decision to come to terms with the death scenario only when I had no other alternative (I think what I actually said was that "if death is a cliff I'm not walking towards it, I shall be hanging on with my fingertips and making a terrible fuss.") Different people have different valid and valuable approaches to this terror and grief, but this has been mine. And many apologies to anyone reading this who has had a very different experience or outcome as I do not mean to upset you.

There is so MUCH I would say here, but I shall sign out with a little reference to an article by Stephen Jay Gould. It is called "The Median Isn't The Message" and it helped to give me hope (realistic hope) where there initially appeared none. It has been freely available online as his family (after his death twenty or so years later of someting entirely different) shared his essay publicly.

The second thing I did was to make a decision to try to stay as fit as I could for as long as possible in order that I would be more able to access treatments if I stayed in good health.

These things helped to give me HOPE and FOCUS and to stay feeling more in control.

The terror is always there, but I have learnt to harness it in a more positive way, and to let go of those things that I have no control over. I have realised that worrying is useless unless it leads me to a fix.

Very very best wishes to you Fran, and to you Billy.

xxxxxx

Hi Fran,

My cancer was diagnosed straight to stage 4. It's primary was oestrogen positive (hormone receptive) invasive ductal breast cancer and had spread throughout both lungs and liver before I knew I had it.

2011 was very traumatic for me and my family, and I won't pretend it's been an easy ride cos it hasn't. But I am still here today over 8 years later, and enjoying a pretty active life. My medical treatment to date has been hormone therapy (tamoxifen and Zoladex) and initial vigorous "palliative" chemo.

As far as I know, clinical trials can be accessed through your medical team if they are appropriate. I have not taken advantage of any yet, as I believe that once I have undergone one study that excludes me from others; I'm hanging on for a bit.

I totally understand where you're coming from. I was utterly terrified too. And, to tell the truth I still am sometimes as I know that it will (most likely - see always hopeful! lol) always be with me. But I also see that, after diagnosis, there might be some long time to live WITH the cancer. Modern treatments are improving, and my hope is perhaps even to survive by "surfing on the wave of new treatments".

Summer 2011, aged 44, I decided that I only had enough fight for one approach. I was tired, and had a lung full of fluid, and not breathing too well. I was trying to "come to terms with" the short prognosis as well as looking into ways I could help myself to stay in control and survive longer. I was too weak to both accept the death scenario, AND tackle the cancer at the same time. People used to give me such "sad eyes", and I used to get really cross with them, poor things! Someone even suggested that I was "in denial"! I wasn't in denial; I know exactly what I am lumbered with. But I made a decision to come to terms with the death scenario only when I had no other alternative (I think what I actually said was that "if death is a cliff I'm not walking towards it, I shall be hanging on with my fingertips and making a terrible fuss.") Different people have different valid and valuable approaches to this terror and grief, but this has been mine. And many apologies to anyone reading this who has had a very different experience or outcome as I do not mean to upset you.

There is so MUCH I would say here, but I shall sign out with a little reference to an article by Stephen Jay Gould. It is called "The Median Isn't The Message" and it helped to give me hope (realistic hope) where there initially appeared none. It has been freely available online as his family (after his death twenty or so years later of someting entirely different) shared his essay publicly.

The second thing I did was to make a decision to try to stay as fit as I could for as long as possible in order that I would be more able to access treatments if I stayed in good health.

These things helped to give me HOPE and FOCUS and to stay feeling more in control.

The terror is always there, but I have learnt to harness it in a more positive way, and to let go of those things that I have no control over. I have realised that worrying is useless unless it leads me to a fix.

Very very best wishes to you Fran, and to you Billy.

xxxxxx

Hi Mary,

Thank you so much for taking the time to reply, and at length. What a journey you've had, you are a true inspiration. How is your quality of life day to day, are you on the hormones permanently? My husband does long walks every day and always has done, but am thinking of other gentle fitness we can get him into. He has read a lot of Stephen Jay Gould but hadn't seen that piece, so thank you - I've shared it with him. I have decided I'm not reading any more statistics or doing any more googling, every case is different and I believe he will be a success story. I know what you mean about the 'sad eyes', some of my friends are overdoing it on the 'poor you' sympathy front and it makes me want to scream! I'll take gallows humour over that any day! Thank you again for your reply, I already feel less alone and more hopeful.

Very best wishes to you,

Fran xxx