It’s December 2019 and I’m only now updating this section to reflect the fact that I have incurable breast cancer.
I initially began writing this blog in the summer of 2015 after I’d been diagnosed with primary breast cancer. I was treated “with curative intent” and, while treatment was tough, it all went well. Then, in April this year, I was diagnosed with secondary or advanced breast cancer. It’s treatable, thankfully, but it can’t be cured. The best we can hope for is that I respond well – and keep responding well – to treatment and that I’ll be around for a good few years yet. Treatment to date has indeed gone well but I take nothing for granted.
My name Maureen Kenny. I’m 56. I have a husband and we have two sons, aged 21 and 19. I have a great job. I’m originally from Glasgow but have lived in south London for over 30 years
I’m leaving most of what I originally wrote on here. It’s part of my story. Here it is, written in the summer of 2015.
“The cancer is at an early enough stage to be curable, so I consider myself lucky. To say the diagnosis knocked me for six is an understatement. Breast cancer now apparently affects one in eight women (thus the name of my blog), but you never think the one will be you.
When you’re first diagnosed, a million thoughts start swirling round your head. So late the other night, I decided I’d jot a few of them down. Before I knew it, it was 2.40am and I’d written four “chapters”. But rather than feel tired, I felt calmer than I’d done in days. Then, I thought, why not share it all? So once I start treatment, I’ll be killing two birds with the one stone. It’ll be therapeutic and it’ll save me from having to tell lots of different people much the same thing over and over again.
So if you want to share the ride and support me during the months ahead, read on. I plan to be frank but I’ll try not to make it too bleak. I’m sure there’ll be a few laughs along the way.”
I still plan to be frank. I’ll also still try not to make it too bleak, although it’s kind of inevitable that it will be some of the time given I have a life-shortening illness with a very uncertain prognosis. Hopefully there will also still be laughs. The crucial difference this time round is that I’m not being treated with curative intent. This time round, treatment is buying me time – hopefully lots of it.
Thanks for reading.