Not a good 2019 so far

My husband was diagnosed with prostate cancer at the beginning of January 2019 and had his prostatectomy on 22nd February. I was diagnosed two weeks later with Epithelial Ovarian Clear Cell Carcinoma and had major surgery at the beginning of March. Recovery has been very challenging, as both of us have been incapacitated! However we wouldn’t have managed as well as we have done without the support and physical help of wonderful family, neighbours and friends. I am due to start chemotherapy very soon and will be attending my first oncology appointment on Monday. 

My husband is a BRCA1 gene mutant(!) and passed the gene mutation to both of our daughters. Both had breast cancer in their late twenties and endured a double mastectomy, chemotherapy and radiotherapy. Sadly our elder daughter was diagnosed with metastasised stage 4 breast cancer seven years later and died in 2016, twenty months after diagnosis. I walked with her every step of the way so know a lot about chemotherapy including drug trials - all second hand. Now it’s my turn to endure chemotherapy but I have the same wonderful Oncologist that she had. Whoop, whoop! I have a brilliant Clinical Nurse Specialist too so feel hugely supported and very optimistic. 

I am happily married for 47 years, retired for nine years now, am a grandmother to two grandsons (7 and 8) as well as a one year old granddaughter. 

 

  • Thanks so much for your reply. I often feel, we’ve been through so much that nothing else can ever be as bad. The grieving process is so difficult even after all of this time. Sometimes it creeps up on you without any notice or trigger and then the tears come. I agree with you that some memories, and not happy ones, just can’t be forgotten but that’s just a “normal”, albeit unwelcome, process. It does make me so much more sympathetic toward people who are experiencing loss. It’s a horrible learning curve though. 

    I can’t believe the regime you are undergoing - that’s plain exhausting! No wonder you are struggling. Gosh, I hope you have a supportive network......and chocolate. Don’t forget the treats!  I fully understand sometimes you just want to be left alone though. Big virtual hug to you and wishing you the mental strength to get through your treatment. 

  • Oh sweetheart. I didn’t realise you were so young. My heart bleeds for you ....and your mum. I really hope your friends fully understand the trials, difficulties and sheer hell you are going through at the moment. You need their support - and laughter - to keep you going. 

    I’ll be in touch. Just let me know when you’re nearly done. I remember when my daughter had completed radiotherapy. She started crying whilst walking across the car park at the end session. I thought she was in pain. In fact it was the utter relief of not having to endure any more radiotherapy that brought on tears. Needless to say, that started me off too! 

    Lots of love xx