Category Archives: Bumpboobs

Menopause vs. ovulation

Posted in After treatment, Bumpboobs, Chemotherapy, Fertility, Treatment by

You may or may not know (though I do chat about it often) that I had taken Zoladex (goserelin) during my chemotherapy. What does Zoladex do? It shuts down your ovaries. Why was I taking it? In hopes that it might protect my ovaries and eggs while they were pumping in stuff to kill fast growing cells. What was the result? Bye bye period.

A potential risk of chemotherapy is the loss of fertility. Yes, ok, fair enough. So I asked the doctor: how will I know if I’m fertile? To which the doctor replied: You will get your period.

I’m not in the mood to freak out, but about two and a half months have passed since the Zoladex should have ‘worn off’. But for some women menstration doesn’t kick-in for months, so this delay is still in the range of normal.

Either it will come back eventually, or if chemotherapy killed my fertility, it will never come back at all.

Anyhow, so this has left me clinging to any and all signs of possible ovulation/PMS/period. Signs of ovulation/PMS/period:

Mood swings – I’m awesome one second and weeping the next. . . Similar to chemotherapy, actually.

I get randy –  like a week or two before my period a whole new kinda woman emerges (studies have shown that when women are ovulating they wear more revealing clothing. Interesting – we are programmed to project ourselves (and to notice others) when most fertile. Isn’t that fascinating? Next time you’re in a public place, look at the women around you guess who is ovulating.)

Cramps and bloating – the less fun side-effect of fertility and menstruation. Thank goodness for hot water bottles.

Food cravings!  And just this past moment I was nearly ACHING for dark chocolate. As this craving surged through me, I thought – hey, hold on, does this mean I’m ovulating? But then I was hit by a hot flash, so it’s quite possible I am not ovulating. Can a person ovulate and hot flash at the same time? Maybe . . .  isn’t that part of menopause? Not everyone turns off their ovaries with the pop of a pill.

Anyhow, why am I sharing this? Because it’s interesting and I’m in the mood to chat. But now it’s time to stop, because Zsolt’s abstract is waiting and I’m yet to look it over.

Final word: CHOCOLATE!!!

Thesis mayhem

Posted in After treatment, Bumpboobs, Life, Radiotherapy Treatment by

This is a working weekend. What does that mean? It means proofing my husband’s 160 page thesis, helping with the abstract (if that’s possible), going to the library (it’s my turn to cover the weekend) and writing for my blogs. Blogs. But, it’s a good weekend too.

OH MY GOODNESS! [breaking news] Again I’ve woken up early. Rolling out of bed today, Zsolt reported the time as  9.30 am, a respectable Sunday start. HOWEVER, it’s actually now 8.30 am, which means it was probably even earlier when we first got up.

What is happening?

I’ll tell you what’s happening. Life is busy, and so is my brain. Here is the Sunday Things To Do list:

1. Write : In process.

2. Eat : Also in process. We just bought two containers of yogurt for £2, which isn’t a bad deal considering it’s organic and absolutely delish. Two flavours were purchased, apricot and mango &vanilla. I’m really looking forward to trying the mango & vanilla, YET this morning I opened the apricot instead. As a BA psychologist, I find this behaviour interesting.

3. Take shower : still not using deodorant on my radiotherapy arm, therefore a daily scrub is important.

4. Clean: Questionable/unlikely.

5. Tea break: Absolutely.

6. Work: one to five at the Avenue Library. Can you believe students actually come in on Sundays? Diligent young workers.

7. Thesis: this is going to be peppered throughout my day. Yesterday it was GO GO GO for thesis revision, but thankfully most of that is done. At least, for me it’s done. Zsolt is still in the midst of madness and revision.

8. Practice reading aloud:  This upcoming Monday I’ll go give a public reading (eep) at the Portsmouth Write Invite. Essentially you get up, read for no less than 6 minutes, and then in the end everyone votes for their favourite. So, if reading in public wasn’t enough pressure, add on some judgement for another level of nerves. Yowsers. But it’s good practise. Really I’m just doing this to add content to my writing website, but hey – it’s also an opportunity to meet other writers, listen to new work, and have a good night out. (I foresee another day of exhaustion come Tuesday)

Here is Zsolt’s Sunday Work List:

1. THESIS.

And that’s all. This guy is correcting, nit picking, aligning, editing, rewriting and stressing his butt off. All thesis, all the time. There was this beautiful hope that he’d be able to submit come Monday, but that was dashed last week when plans had to be changed. But submission will happen, and it’s gonna be this upcoming week. Any bets for the day and time?

Anyhow, life is busy and it’s seems to be getting busier. Thankfully radiotherapy exhaustion hasn’t struck me yet. Maybe I’m just holding on with will power, not sure what might happen once Zsolt finally submits. My radiotherapy burn is managing well. I’m slathering it with Traumeel and the redness is reducing. Mind you, they say it can keep reddening for about two or three weeks following treatment, so I keep waiting for the blisters to erupt. However, so far so good. The area is significantly darker than my light skin – something like a deep tan (mind you, a deep tan for me is like no tan for others), and the area is speckled with some very un-sexy freckles.

It’s now just past nine, and that’s us on this cloudy Sunday morning here in England. Status check updated, now time for more yogurt. Happy weekend to you!

Onto better things

Posted in After treatment, Bumpboobs, Life, Reading, Writing by

Whew, good morning and good day. Yesterday I couldn’t bear to write a post for this blog – it wasn’t for a lack of ideas, but rather a lack of BRAIN power. That is it say, I was tired.

Ho Crap! Have only just checked the clock. It’s 7.58 am, which means I have woken up abnormally early considering I was so incredibly tired yesterday. But that is what writing does to me : I get these ideas inside my head, and sooner than later they turn into running narratives . . . almost like a dictation .  . . and if I don’t write it all down, the words will keep circling around and prodding me. This may sound crazy (maybe?), however, it is also the truth. But it’s no wonder Zsolt is still in bed. Normally he’s first up and out, so this morning when I rolled away from the covers and he was still totally asleep, I just thought it was because the poor man stayed up till like 2am last night with his thesis.  Nope. It’s just crazy early here.

At least, in the student world it’s crazy early. For normal 9-5ivers to wake up at eight must be equivalent to sleeping in. Anyhow…

Right! Went to London last Wednesday and believe this is a city not to be eaten in small bites. Yes, you get a taste – but really, a visit in the afternoon isn’t enough time to soak up everything the capital offers. It’s easy to understand why people take a 2m x 2m apartment just to stay in the city; with all those shops and pubs and restaurants and BOOK LAUNCHES and shows and incredible neighbourhoods, what’s so wrong with living in a closet? Not a darn thing.

Anyhow, we navigated the subway system and found our way to Holland Park. First things first (and being about 2 hours early), we stopped in at a French Patisserie named Paul. This place was lovely, and all the servers with their white cook hats had French accents. Are they really French? Quite possibly. Anyhow – they had all sorts of gluten-filled goodies, so I abstained and ordered a large mug of tea instead.

One hour later it was onto the pub for dinner with friends (and a twenty meter walk down from the bakery). Funny, I’d arrive for the evening with black stockings on, but my built-in slip did not extend to the actual bottom of the dress. This is inconvenient,  becausewhile walkin the bottom strip of fabric would start to inch-inch-inch-up with every freaking step. Anyhow, I made the executive decision to remove the stockings and just wear my knee high socks – thus flashing a lot of bare legged thigh, and ended up looking like an Asian-fusion stewardess/school girl with my combo of dress and socks, all wrapped up in a polka dot jacket that also cuts at the thigh (thus giving no help to the rising skirt situation) – but then throw on top of everything my incredibly short hair and I really must have come off as eccentric (or as a breast cancer warrior, maybe I should have pinned a ribbon for clarity). But if there’s anything chemo has taught me it’s that even when you feel/look like shit, it always pays to stand up straight. So on Wednesday night when I doubted my outfit (though it was fine, not chemo-bad at all), I at least tried to stand up straight.

Did you know that London, or at least Holland Park Avenue, is chalk full of late twenty and thirty-somethings? This is a mecca for the post-uni, pre-middle age crowd. I loved it.

Anyhow – finally we arrived for the launch of The Cloud Messenger, held at Daunt Books. It’s strange going to someone else’s party; I always wonder, ‘who the heck will I speak to?’ And indeed there were moments of awkward milling (And nerves! I’m just terrible in new situations), but thanks to social lubrication (wine) and a friend graciously making introductions, it was an interesting evening of chatter, new people, listening to Aamer read his lovely passage, and essentially enjoying that bookish buzz. Great stuff.

Fast forward to the train ride home, then a crash into bed. Best part of the evening : snuggling with Zsolt and talking about the party. Followed by sleeping, which is always wonderful.

And speaking of which, Zsolt has just woken up. I’m going to go and jump on him. (this poor man is spiriting to the finish line and banging his head against a wall simultaneously; PhD theses are not for the weak-willed, that’s for sure. But he’s almost there. Almost there! All I can do is make him tea.)

Signing off!

PS- it’s so nice to write about a day that has NOTHING to do with cancer. Okay, talking about cancer now kind of ruins it, but really, I have to say how wonderful it feels. The entirety of Wednesday was dedicated to things other than cancer. Awesome x 20.