How’s this for awesome?

Here’s an update on the past few weeks. It’s mostly been more than good and a couple of really lovely things have happened to me.

If things carry on at this rate, I may well attempt to cycle the full 100-mile route of the Ride London event early next month.

Here goes.

First off, later today, essentially without there being a break from treatment cycle #2, I start treatment cycle #3 for the advanced breast cancer I was diagnosed with a few months ago.

At St George’s Hospital in Tooting in south-west London, I’ll have two injections of Faslodex (fulvestrant) in my buttocks, I’ll be given the bone-strengthening drug Zometa (zoledronic acid) via a drip in my arm, and I’ll start my next round of twice-daily Verzenios (abemaciclib) tablets.

Each treatment cycle lasts 28 days. I had to have a short break between cycles one and two and I feared there might be another one between two and three – or that we might have to reduce the dose of tablet that I’m on. I’d really rather not have either at this stage as there are some signs that the drugs are having a positive effect and I’m totally paranoid about doing anything that in any way, shape or form might reduce the effectiveness of the treatment.

The reason I had the break between the first two cycles is that abemaciclib had pushed my neutrophil count to below the level that’s considered safe to continue treatment. That’s still happening. To counteract that, I had to self-administer injections of a drug called filgrastim yesterday evening and the previous evening. I’ll do the same again half-way through and at the end of this latest 28-day cycle. Filgrastim boosts the production of neutrophils – the white blood cells that help fight infection – and I inject it in my belly area. I did much the same during chemo nearly four years ago.

Assuming this treatment cycle passes uneventfully, my next trip to the hospital won’t be until near the end of the 28-day period, when I’ll have blood tests in advance of seeing the consultant and hopefully get the go-ahead to start treatment cycle #4. In the time between the two injections, we should manage a ten-day family holiday in Spain.

Re the drugs having a positive effect, my blood test results from Monday show that my tumour marker levels are down – again. A decrease in marker levels during treatment can indicate that the tumour is responding to treatment. You don’t want to get too excited but that’s a positive early sign.

On the pain front, I haven’t needed to use painkillers for weeks now. I have been in no pain whatsoever for a good couple of weeks. I’m expecting potentially to have to take painkillers over the next few days as the fulvestrant and zoledronic acid can cause bone and joint pain.*

There have been some tough moments emotionally, when I’ve started thinking too far ahead. However, for now I’ve become a bit of an expert at pulling myself back to the present PDQ.

Now on to the subject of exercise. Since suggesting in my last blog post that I might take up swimming to make up for no longer being able to run or play tennis, I have been swamped with offers from friends and acquaintances to swim with them – outdoors!

In the past ten days alone, I’ve been for two early-morning swims at Tooting Lido, the big outdoor swimming pool near where I live. I’ve also been to an evening session of open-water swimming at the beautiful Shepperton Lake on the outskirts of south-west London. I’m due to swim again at Tooting Lido early tomorrow morning and at Victoria Docks in the Thames one evening next week. All new and lovely experiences for me. I don’t have the fitness to do front crawl for more than a few strokes at a time but breast stroke is fine.

On top of all that, I managed a 75-mile bike ride last Sunday, with two cycling friends. I thought it was a flat 100k route but we followed a friend’s route and hers was 120k! That’s made me think I should at least try to do the longer, 100-mile route of Ride London, the mass participation, closed road bike ride through London and the Surrey hills that’s taking place this year on 4 August. I got a place in the public ballot but when I started treatment in May, I didn’t think I’d even be in a position to attempt the shorter 46-mile route.

And how’s this for awesome? If you’ve been following this blog, you’ll know I was gutted at having to pull out of a big charity bike ride known as Le Loop that I was planning on doing in France earlier this month.

As part of Le Loop, I was due to cycle Stages 5-7 of this year’s Tour de France route a week before the real thing. A bunch of us from BellaVelo, the cycling community and club based in south west London that I’m a member of, had signed up to do various stages of the Tour as part of this big fundraising event.

It turns out that some of the BellaVelo women who did take part in Le Loop – often riding more than a 100 miles a day in ridiculously high temperature0f708d09-3921-4813-8b36-87b0d4421f63s – wore ribbons with the Scottish flag on on their helmets or bikes or even as hair ties while they were riding. Why? Because they thought it would be “a nice way to include you in Le Loop even though you were unable physically to be there”.

I’m still feeling so chuffed about that. What a kind gesture. That has to be up there with having had a sonnet written for me!

There’s more. Two BellaVelo members are currently riding every stage of the Tour de France the day before the pros. They’re part of a team called InternationElles and they’re doing this amazing feat to raise awareness of inequality in cycling. Anyway, what they’re doing is incredible and so demanding… but they took time out to send me a video of support. That was very cool.

Staying with the cycling theme, it was my 56th birthday recently and my husband gave me as a present a lovely framed photo of the two of us dressed up for an evening out… with 6153A64E-7A21-46B2-9139-683FB49A8D45a second option – of me with my bike and in full cycling kit – in case I get fed up with his first choice! In the one of me on my own, I’m standing at the top of Box Hill in Surrey. It’s a classic ride for south Londoners and we’d cycled there a few weeks ago to see whether I’d be able to do it. I was delighted that I could. My husband knows how much both photos mean to me. He is a star.

On top of that, on Monday I had the best evening out with three friends I’ve known since my early days in London. I’m the only one who still lives in the capital and this was a very hastily arranged get-together. They’ve been friends with each other since childhood and I’m the blow-in! It was a beautiful, fun-filled, life-affirming evening.

I could go on but I’ll mention just one more thing. A friend has given me a book called the Poetry Pharmacy, by William Sieghart. If you haven’t come across it, try to get a copy. It could change your life.

Plenty of other friends and family members have made other lovely gestures. I massively appreciate them all. I feel surrounded by kindness. People are amazing and it’s good to be alive.

*In the end, painkillers weren’t needed. There was no pain at all in my glutes after the injections and no joint/bone pain at all over the following days. 

7 thoughts on “How’s this for awesome?

  1. Excellent! Loving all this talk of outdoor swimming, which seems much more appealing to me when I’m at the seaside, preferably via a sandy beach. xx

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Brilliant, Maureen. You’ll be turning into one of those 365 days a year wild swimmers! Looking forward to seeing you off on Ride London. If you can do 75, I’m sure you can do 100! X

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  3. Another “Awesome” post Maureen! Treatment is progressing well and the signs seem encouraging, as you say, you don’t want to get too excited but you have to enjoy some of the positive medical news. I hope you have a fab time on your family holiday and enjoy many more even though your sons are now young men 😀. You certainly have embraced the swimming in one form or another, one more string to your large bow!! xx

    Liked by 1 person

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