Life Goes On

It would seem a glitch in a Windows Update was the reason my computer was in Lillo's workshop for the past week. It was great to have it back so why then did I find myself in tears? The deterioration in motor skills, and build up of fluid in my hand and arm saw my typing skills go out the door. For the first time in my life I have become a one finger typist. This is my reason for not responding to emails or commenting on Posts. It is my intention to find some way of overcoming this, so if you have any ideas I would love to hear your suggestions.


Dr Janine Lombard, my regular Medical Oncologist, is currently on maternity leave. I found myself sitting in front of Dr Tony Bonaventura, making every effort to get some understanding of his personality, which is often more important to me than actual ability. He appeared to be non-communicative, which presented some challenges.

I was told that the recurrence of my cancer in the brachial plexus is most unusual (unfortunately for me.) To me this means that the medical profession appear to know very little about my condition, or how to treat the symptoms. Dr Bonaventura suggested that I undertake hormone treatment, using Femara (Letrozole 2.5mg) for 6 weeks. I will then have another PET Scan and, who knows where to from there! Chemotherapy has been mentioned.

Haydn has made it very clear that he is with me for as long as it takes and my children are very grateful that I am in such capable hands. Who would have thought that it would be my ex-husband acting as my carer? Haydn is very reassuring and reminds me, as necessary, that he will do all he can to facilitate my healing.

Yesterday we visited Dr John Prickett at Hunter Pain Clinic. If I have anything to be grateful for, as far as my medical condition goes, it is that the war in Afghanistan means that more is being learnt about the pain associated with the brachial plexus. Dr Prickett suggested that it is the worst pain to suffer from, and one of the worst pains to treat. There is no drug known that completely eases the pain. He did say that most patients he sees are out of control; he sees no sign of that with me. He also said that patients usually suffer fom depression. When the depression is treated the pain eases. After discussion with Haydn, he said that he did not feel that was relevant. Allelulia! Thanks family and friends. You play a huge part in keeping me sane.

I was given a prescription for Sodium Valproate, an anti-epileptic drug, and also Norspan patches to relieve the pain and replace the large doses of Oxycontin which come with dreadful side effects . One of these is the dry mouth leading to tooth decay. It seems that these teeth of mine, which have cost huge sums of money over the years, may slowly, but surely, disappear.

Before having the prescriptions filled I will discuss the treatment with Palliative Care and my new GP, Dr Milton Sales. It is easy to become confused with too many treating practitioners involved. I have learned the hard way the absolute necessity of having Palliative Care on call.

Once again I was told that my case is quit unique and there is very little known about the condition, or treatment.

Dr Pricketts final words were that I should 'revel in my uniqueness' whatever that means...

Medical Update

The past 10 days have been hectic and yet I have remained the farm almost daily. I have the delightful Alison and Corina that do my domestic duties each Wednesday morning. I am home all day and yet I seem to get nothing done. How can this be?


Things changed dramatically on 5 February when I found my 40mg Oxycontin tablets floating in the toilet bowl. I phoned Palliative Care. Dr Newton and the team made the decision that I would be put onto patches; there appeared to be an absorption problem which could have been related to the Dicloxacillian antibiotic that I had been taking for suspected, low grade, chronic cellulitis.

The patches went on Saturday. I discontinued taking oral Oxycontin, under medical advice, and the unbearable pain began about 3am Sunday 7th. Being the caring, considerate person that I am I stupidly waited until 9am to phone Palliative Care. I was at screaming point! By 10.30am Sally arrived and promptly gave me an injection (no questions asked.) Miraculously, the pain quickly abated.

I went onto the 24 hour pump and remained on it until yesterday when Sally arrived bearing the good news that the pump would be removed. Very nervously, I resumed taking Oxycontin at a higher dosage. It is now 3.49am Friday 19th and I have been wide awake since 2am; not actually in pain, but very unsettled!

During this period I have had every test imaginable and the results are 'sort of' in. Dr Gupta phoned Monday with the news that, although the MRI shows a marked improvement in the radiated area, the cancer is still active in the Brachial Plexus. I will learn more when I consult with him this afternoon. Hence the reason for my sleeplessness!

The days fly; daily chores take so much longer. Even the simple task of going to the toilet means I struggle to get my underpants and trousers on. I am unable to fasten them. Even when using public toilets, I am sometimes forced to ask for help. Pride has gone out the door and been replaced with humility and gratitude.

Daily visits from Palliative Care take anywhere from half an hour to two and one half hours.

I still manage to do Haydn's bookwork but I am unsure of the future. I am surprised at the rapid deterioration and loss of function. I am scared, afraid of what is in store. I cry often and laugh lots. I give thanks for my beautiful family and friends that daily express their love and appreciation for having me in their lives.

I am isolated at the farm. I am unable to drive and may never do so again. I have lost so much. The isolation that had become my prison is now my bliss.

I phoned Lillo and ordered a new computer. I asked for the biggest, brightest coloured notebook; the one that most resembles a desk top. I asked about Web Cam and Voice Activated Technology that will allow me to continue my friendships online. I am planning for the day that I am blessed to have life and yet, the degree of disability will prevent me doing things in the way I have become used to.
Have I missed anything?

Today I give thanks for the many blessings that fill my life and the peace that fills my heart.

Staying Strong

Haydn has always been conscious of preparation and funding his own retirement. As Managing Director of his own small Manufacturing Company, in May 2000 he decided to buy an industrial complex containing 4 sheds, thus preparing for his own his own comfortable retirement.

At the time of our retirement - June 2009 - he was given a gift from one of the tenants, 2 very small frangipani trees, which we decided to keep in pots; they were of unknown colour. One of them has just produced its first flower; almost white with pale pink centre.

Friday turned out to be drama filled.

Palliative care arrived mid morning and set up the canula in the abdomen for the Grasby machine. By mid afternoon, I realised that there was redness at the site. A phone enquiry, regarding the stinging and itching, and was told by Chris they would be right out. Better to do it then rather than drive the distance in the middle of the night if there were problems. They departed about 5.30pm.

Around 9pm the alarm began to go off. After waking Haydn to have him unlock the machine ( the lock & key probably insures the safety of the morphine) we determined that it was not the battery. I therefore found myself waiting for a third visit from Palliative Care at 10.23pm Friday night.

This time I had successfully pulled the canula out and it had bent back on itself. No way was this little beauty going to give me any pain relief. Thank goodness for the inbuilt safety features of these machines.

Then, of course, there was no getting me to sleep. Too much hype for a Friday night.

An interesting view of how daggy I looked at that time with the machine hooked up.

And then there is our big fat night time resident frog. I now know why he is huge!

He climbs on our glass French doors later at night and devours the moths and insects that are attracted by the lights inside.

I thoroughlly enjoyed my observations.

Photography not brilliant as I am learning to manage with a greater degree of disability due to the recurrence of the cancer.

Almost impossible to click the shutter with the right hand.

And then...

Then there were all of these beautiful Birthday Cards to help me to celebrate my January birthday.

Haydn asked if my friends thought I was going to die as there seemed to be more cards than usual.

My reply 'We are all born to die.'

It is between me and my Maker but I know I am not ready yet!

Angel Wings

I recently purchased this tulip like lotus plant, aptly named Angel Wings.

It has produced its first flower, reminding me that Jeremy is with me in spirit always.

The morning began badly. Although the topic of this discussion could be considered a little sensitive, I feel it is imperitive to record the details.

One of the side effects of Oxycontin is a tendency to constipation. It seems prudent to check for signs and symptoms after going to the toilet. This morning I was shocked to see, what appeared to be, a 40mg Oxycontin tablet in the toilet bowl.

I decided to discuss the matter with the Palliative Care Duty Nurse. Shann listened to my story and suggested that Dr Newton [Palliative Care Doctor] would be the one to ask on her return from rounds. I was told to do nothing and wait for her to get back to me.

What a surprise to find not 1, but 4 more tablets in the toilet bowl at lunch time. Panic!

Another phone call to Shann and then wait. Not long before I received a message asking if I would have any objection to using patches for pain relief. I said anything is preferable to this unbearable pain. I had no idea how long it had been since the Oxycontin was fully absorbed.

It was then I knew that I was being guided. I began to think about the series of events that had led to this. In the past everything was written in my Journal. The return of the cancer in the brachial plexus means that writing is difficult. Almost impossible actually.

It was December that I saw Judy Hickey the Physiotherapist at the Mater Hospital. She suggested that I could have chronic, low grade cellulitis which would require a course of a particular antibiotic. She felt the situation was quite urgent. Rather than wait to see my regular GP, she thought it prudent to see Dr Gupta [Radiation Oncologist] as he was somewhere around the hospital. Dr Gupta was busy, consequently I was seen by his Registrar who prescribed a course of Dicloxacillin. It came with a list of possible side effects. I was not surprised to find myself suffering from gut problems.

Spoke to my GP about the side effects. He changed the antibiotics as there were still symptoms of cellulitis. End of story...

Or so I thought!

Until today. I began to put pieces of the puzzle together.

I realised it was about the same time that the pain returned with a vengeance. I referred to it as acute. My thoughts now are that it was about that time that I stopped absorbing the Oxycontin. I increased my dosage from 20mg morning and night to 50mg three times a day. That was when we began to suspect something sinister hence, the current testing.

I once again phoned Shann as I began to think that, if I was right, 50mg patches would be far too strong. After all, maybe it was simply that the 20mg was not being absorbed, rather than a more serious problem.

Shann appeared not to understand my concerns and suggested I simply see my GP as soon as possible.

I changed GP's when my GP of 13 years standing told me that this cancer is going to kill me. I decided that I did not want to be treated by a practitioner that had given up HOPE, even if there was a chance that I had lost HOPE.

I felt I was on to something and phoned my daughter Megan to tell her that there was a huge ray of sunshine appearing on the horizon. Just a little chuffed that I had worked things out myself I was shocked when she said 'Mum, don't you remember what happened to me?'

Megs was given the same antibiotic and ended up in hospital. Seems like a check of the stool will determine if I require another course of antibiotics to fix the problem. Left untreated this condition can have dire consequences as nothing is absorbed [including the Oxycontin] Ouch!

In the meantime, I will have to discuss the problems with the Pharmacist when I go to pick up the prescription for the patches. Maybe I still require only 20mg of Oxycontin night and morning.

My rule is not to worry about how long I live, but to focus on how I live.

I intend to stay alive.. no overdose of Oxycontin for me.

Where to now?

I feel a definite need to return to these pages and continue my writing as my future is looking just a little uncertain at the moment.

A new lump, more in the chest wall than the breast, saw me make an appointment with the Radiation Oncologist rather than the General Practitioner. The decision was made with the knowledge that my GP could not request an MRI should it be necessary, and he would still receive a copy of the Report.

Dr Gupta [Radiation Oncologist] instead requested CT and Bone Scans. Although it turned out to be a bad decision on my part, I phoned my GP for the results. I was told that everything appeared to be OK however, he would run it by the Senior Practitioner [Dr Milton Sales] and would get back to me if necessary.

I heard nothing; it felt like a welcome reprieve. I was thrilled! Damian and Tyneal had driven almot 1000km from Melbourne to spend a few days. My 12 year old grandson Jascha had been with me for 2 weeks of the school holidays and he would be going home with them.

It came as a bit of a surprise to receive a phone call from the Mater Hospital at 3.30pm on Friday 22 January on to say that Dr Gupta wished to see me at 3.30pm on Friday 29th. A week is a long time in the life of an oncology patient waiting on results of imaging!

I must admit that I was probably more concerned that I had been kept waiting a week for the results than the results themselves. I was therefore a bit taken aback to see very clearly that there was, what appeared to be, a new soft tissue deposit in the area.

It was not surprising to find that Dr Gupta recommended MRI's of both Brachial Plexus and Cervical Spine. He also suggested a PET Scan. I asked for copies of the Reports and headed home to reflect on my diagnosis. Poor Haydn stays strong with all of this and continues to be an amazing support, although I think that he really feels that everything will be OK.

It was not until Saturday that I dragged Images and Reports from the back seat of the car and discovered that, in technical terms, the Bone Scan shows 'an avid focus of uptake is seen in the right side of the mandible - this is usualloy related to dental pathology. Occasionally metastatic disease can present in the mandible...'

From where I sit now it seems hard to believe that the GP could have thought there was nothing of significance. It certainly does not feel like that to me.

Then of course there is the fact that there was a message on our answering machine from Hunter Imaging stating that they had rescheduled appointments to treat my case as urgent.

I now have MRI's Monday and Tuesday next and PET Scan on Wednesday. I guess there will soon be a clear picture....

Today there was another phone call from the Mater saying that Dr Gupta wanted me to see Dr Tony Bonaventura [Medical Oncologist] on 26th February. Although I have not had chemotherapy, I had been seen by Dr Gupta's wife who is now on Maternity leave. I am happy with his choice as one of my friends from Group 33 [Breast Cancer Support Group] is a patient and she speaks very highly of him.

It would seem that I have achieved nothing by going through intensive radiotherapy. I am still on Oxycontin, although now it is three times per day, rather than twice. The pain is, at times, unbearable and I suffer from lethargy and fatigue and can no longer manage to run a household.

My conclusion. Cancer can be cruel. But then so too can the treatment

Losing Oneself..

I am so excited!

It is interesting to be sitting here, knowing that thoughts have been rushing through my head for hours, as I contemplate this Post. It has been some time since I felt like this.

I had mentioned in my previous Post that the journey has been arduous. Why is it that when 'The King' has done so much for me over the months I feel like I am losing myself. There is the expectation that dinner will be served at the usual time and the house will be run as efficiently as it has in the past. I have completely lost the desire to be chief cook and bottle washer.

I am feeling that somewhere along the road, I have sacrificed myself. I hear Jeremy's words in my head. It was at the time of my breast cancer diagnosis and he told me that he would have to leave home as I did everything for him. He informed me that, if I learned to do it for myself, I would be alright. I am wondering if I have failed hopelessly, or if there is still time to learn to do things differently. Should it be the latter, where do I start?

I am feeling that 'The King' controls my life. I have learned that it is not good for our relationship to be together 24/7. I certainly appreciate the fact that he has, so willingly, driven me to appointments during my treatment.

We have one television at the farm and I have never been asked if there is a programme that I might like to watch. 'The King' controls the controls. The house has open plan living [not recommended with industrial deafness.] At times, it seems there is nowhere to go....

My lymphoedema is particularly bad, making typing and writing even more difficult. My fingers have become so dyslexic that I constantly touch extra keys. Proof reading is very important.

Living at the farm, in isolation, unable to drive the distance to Newcastle from Vacy, I ask myself how I can learn to make MY LIFE a priority and take better care of myself. This is absolutely essential if I am to live long enough to find my life purpose.

In saying all of this, I am grateful to have access to Tai Chi and yoga classes, which provide friendship and exercise, at a very reasonable rate. It is fair to say that Donna is by far the best yoga teacher I have encountered. It is not all bad at Vacy...

I believe the next three months could possibly be the most important of my life. This month I have Jeremy's birthday and Angel Date coming up. Once through that, I know that Christmas, followed by my birthday, is a very emotional time.

I believe the underlying problem is that I would never leave my child an orphan; my reason for living. How do I learn to live for myself?

Living with Loss

It has been too long! At last I feel well enough to begin writing once again.

I use the view from the farm house to meditate and reflect. The days are beautiful! We have had very little rain over the past months and yet the early morning mist still settles in the valleys. I love it!

I made the decision to do a quick Post after checking my Comments for the first time in months. Debby noted that she was to undergo a PET Scan. I decided to check her Blog, which resulted in this attempt.

The return of my cancer in the same breast has had ramifications leaving me to reflect on the loss in my life.

I was 12 the year my Father was taken from me in an horrific accident. He was travelling to work and the vehicle in which he was a passenger was hit by a train at a level crossing.

In 1965, just 5 years after my father's passing, I gave birth to a baby girl. As an unmarried mother, I had no way of supporting myself, let alone my beautiful baby girl. My daughter Carla was given up for adoption.

I suspect that these experiences strengthened me. Fortunately I had no idea of what lay ahead of me.

My life remained relatively normal until 1994 when my much loved husband of 27 years lost his long fought battle with cancer.

In December 2005 I had a mastectomy [after battling cancer in that breast from 2002]

I felt very much that the loss of my breast was another blow. At no time had I sought help to deal with my emotions, although I did find Prayer Counselling very useful.

The early months of 2006 were spent travelling to and from Dubbo; my Mother's health was failing. Mum died in October 2006.

There was no time to mourn her passing as my beloved youngest son Jeremy Jon was tragically killed in an horrific motor vehicle accident just weeks later. No mother ever expects to lose a child in her lifetime. A piece of me died with Jezz; my bleeding heart attempting to live with the loss.

The confirmation that my breast cancer had returned in April of this year meant my life was thrown into turmoil. I was taking Oxycontin for pain relief. It was actually a relief in some ways to find that there was a reason for the unbearable pain that had become my constant companion.

The cancer was back and actively destroying nerves and muscles; it had spread to the brachial plexus. [If you are not familiar with the brachial plexus, it is worth doing a quick search on the web.]

I was told the cancer is inoperable and incurable. Radiation the only form of treatment that would give me another chance at life.

The treatments presented no problems, although the radiation burns were very painful. It appears to have worked well on reducing the pain as I have been able to reduce my pain medication considerably.

Unfortunately, I completely lost the use of my right arm and hand. This was initially very confronting as it is my dominant hand. As I battle daily with the exercises to improve strength and fine motor skills, I have learned to accept that this is yet another loss that I must learn to live with.

There have been many tears shed as well as frustration at every turn. I have lost the desire to eat and the fatigue has almost beaten me on occasions. I have been unable to drive, due to the fatigue, and I feel that I have been imprisoned at the farm. Each time I leave the farm it is with Haydn behind the wheel and me in the passenger seat. I have missed my social outings and contact with girlfriends. Actually, it is fair to say I have missed my contact with friends, as this has meant that my blogging friends were also put on hold.

As you can see, there are times that I have felt like I have given up so much. Guess that is what has lead me to write about the loss in my life; I know your comments will educate and inspire me.

It feels good to be back.

Update

I cannot help but notice how much more difficult writing has become with the increased dosage of Oxycontin/Oxynorm used to reduce my pain levels. It has been nine agonising months since I began to feel the pain in the right shoulder and arm. It seems that, at last, we are closer to finding the cause, and the solution, to the pain that has kept me away from the keyboard and the very people that brighten my sometimes dark days. I have missed you all and look forward to resuming regular entries.

Reflecting on the period since my mastectomy in December 2005 I seem to be getting a clear picture. Shortly after my surgery Haydn and I found ourselves travelling frequently to Dubbo to spend time with my elderly Mother who was experiencing severe abdominal pain and was not at all well. Mum died several weeks prior to the accident that took the life of my youngest son in November 2006.

In June 2007 I found myself with another breast lump. I was not surprised! Although I sought medical advice, and the lump was monitored, I now realise that I did not see a future for myself. My will to live was simply not 100%. Fortunately, with time, my body, mind and spirit has undergone enormous healing, and I am, once again, doing battle to give me back my life.

Looking at my reports I see that I have had several CT scans and one bone scan over the past months. I am still unsure why nothing was done however, I believe we are now close to finding the solution that will soon see me pain free. Could it simply have been that I was not ready for the fight?

In February my regular GP returned from an extended break. At the time of my consultation, I presented with pain in the arm and limited usage plus a loss of strength. There was also the problem of pins and needles in the three middle fingers I had been prescribed morphine in January by another doctor in the practice. My doctor recommended an MRI. Our Medicare system meant that he was unable to requisition it as it could only be done by a specialist. Firstly there would be a process of elimination.

Thankfully, my condition is now been treated as urgent. Appointments have been moved and changed and my MRI was done Tuesday. Yesterday I returned to Dr Katekar to be told that there appears to be a local recurrence. The pictures are consistent with metastatic infiltration of the right thoracic outlet, including muscles and the nerves of the brachial plexus. Ouch! No wonder the pain is agonising. In simple language, it seems that there is active cancer in the nerves.

I am to see my GP on Monday. Hopefully, he will have set up an appointment with an oncologist at the Mater Hospital (getting closer to that elusive cup of coffee Lisa.) Dr Katekar made it clear that he in not an oncologist but did suggest that I will possibly be given radiotherapy to reduce the size of the tumour and to kill the active cancer in the nerves. Bingo! The pain will then be reduced and so too, the need for morphine.

It seems that a tremendous load has been lifted. I am encouraged by the scans which show there is still only one tumour. It has not increased in size although there is an abundance of fluid and swelling in that area. I am optimistic that, reducing the tumour size slightly, will allow me to co-operate fully with my body's own self-healing mechanisms as the radiotherapy does its work.

Today I give thanks, knowing that this is a good outcome. Our prayers have been answered!

I am grateful for your friendship and your loyalty and feel excited at the prospect of, once more, becoming a regular contributor and follower.

Finding Joy in the Garden

We gain strength, and courage, and confidence by each experience in which we really stop to look fear in the face... we must do that which we think we cannot.
—Eleanor Roosevelt

Today became a day of reflection and contemplation as I began the wait for the appointment for the MRI knowing that it would determine the path ahead.

Haydn and I went to the Maitland markets; we know that Autumn is the perfect time to plant. On our arrival home I walked into the garden and snapped a few pics for this post while Haydn got the ride on mower out.

Even using the camera is difficult at this time. I pray that it is nothing more than the Carpal Tunnel that is causing the problem. Not having use of the three fingers on my right hand can be challenging.

The small green tree frog has made a home on the leaf the frangipani. We were given two frangipani plants by Mick, a tenant in one of the industrial sheds in Haydn's complex.
This Allamanda Cherry Ripe survived sheer neglect after the sale of our home in Charlestown. We lived in a colourbond at the factory for 18 months while waiting for the house at the farm to progress to the point it was habitable.

Two weeks ago we went to the Vacy Village Country Fair and bought this apricot Chinese Lantern from the CWA lady. It was reasonably priced and funds raised went to the CWA. It is nothing more than a stick and now has almost one dozen flowers

The colour in this picture does not do it justice. This magnificent magenta Buddleja davidii or Butterfly Bush attracts the most amazing butterflies to the garden for about 9 months of the year.

This Euphorbia Diamond Frost was planted in November when we undertook the transformation of the bush garden in memory of Jeremy. The flowers are like millions of tiny butterflies and it flowers all year round.

Purple Fountain grass surrounding the frog pond in the bush garden.

The magnificent flower of the Gordonia Axillaris.

Love the delicate flower of the Grevillea Orange Marmalade.

This lavender Butterfly Bush is in the bush garden and flowers almost all year round. The plant was bought for $1 at the markets in Lakes Entrance when we went to Victoria for the butterfly Release on the first anniversary of Jeremy's accident.

This is the lemon miniature Chinese Lantern bought also for $1 at the markets in Lakes Entrance. It has not stopped flowering.

First flowers on my Protea Pink Ice.

Once again, the colour of the flowers on this Butterfly Bush are so much so much prettier than the picture shows.

The intention of the garden is to provide a natural and safe habitat for birds, butterflies and animals.

I certainly felt at peace with the world when I came indoors and decided that sharing it with you would bring even more joy.

Wishing you all love, light and laughter.

Is there light at the end of this tunnel?

Kookaburra picture courtesy of Wikipedia

On Thursday of last week I sat in the office of my GP feeling worn out and tired. My spirits lifted when I learned that my doctor was doing a Letter of Referral to Dr Michael Katekar. Dr Katekar, a Consultant Neurologist, had me admitted to hospital in 1998 where it was determined that I had a mass abutting the right hand side of the pelvic wall. The mass was irritating the obturator nerve causing severe neuralgic pain. At one point I was taking over 150 mgs a day of oral morphine.

Dr Desouza explained that he would fax the Referral to Dr Katekar who would determine the degree of urgency and have his receptionist phone me with appointment details. Silly me! I expected to hear from them immediately; I sat by the phone. On Monday morning, after yet another sleepless night, I felt the need to take some responsibility. I phoned Dr Katekar's surgery. My enquiry drew a blank although I did receive confirmation that my name was there. Patience needed here.

On Wednesday evening I stood outside, taking in the beauty of the countryside, and the freshness of the air after 175 ml of rain which had bucketed down in just 48 hours. Enjoying the stillness, I smiled when I heard the call of the kookaburra, observing that the sound had come from the meter box beside the house.

I immediately took my copy of Animal Dreaming to a quiet spot where I read what Scott Alexander King had to say about the symbolic and spiritual language of the Australian Kookaburra.

The message is clear; time is right for me to take responsibility for my own healing, including the release of pent-up pain, confusion and resentment which could be very confronting. There is an alternative to this internal suffering. Kookaburra is calling for me to probe deeper than the superficial laughter, to awaken to my inner truth and the dawning of a new day. Kookaburra is Spirits way of restoring faith in my quest for personal healing.

I was not at all surprised to find the following morning there was a phone call from Dr Katekar's office to say that an appointment had been made for 9.45am this morning, Friday 3 April.

The nerve conduction study clearly showed the severe damage to the nerves in the wrist. Ah! Ah! Carpal Tunnel explains the pins and needles, loss of strength and problems with the three middle fingers on the right hand.

And there's more. Dr Katekar then began sticking needles into my arm, turning the dial to increase the nerve stimulation. Help! I have been conditioned never to allow anyone to put needles into my lymphoedema arm post mastectomy. My paranoia now apparent as I began to breathe deeply, knowing that my priority is to find the reason for this pain that keeps me awake at nights, away from my friends and requiring regular morphine just to get out of bed each day.

Dr Katekar quickly pointed out that there appeared to be another problem. The index and little finger on the right hand behaving differently to those on the left hand. He recommended an MRI of the cervical spine and brachial plexus, pointing out that he was obliged to tell me that there is possibly a recurrence of the breast cancer in the axillary region.

At best, there could be a simple problem in the nexk. At worst, the lumps that have appeared above the original incision could be a recurrence.

I acknowledged his comment understanding only too well that the journey continues.

I phoned Hunter Imaging to make the appointment and learned that Dr Katekar had already made contact. He apparently explained that the test was a matter of urgency. Earliest available appointments were 6th and 7th May! The receptionist was delightful and said that they would look at rearranging some appointment to get me in ASAP.

Once again, I am bemused to learn that the appointments are made for consecutive days as Medicare will not pay if they are done on the same day. No problem! Do we care that it is 180 km round trip for us to make our way to Cardiff and return which means Haydn giving up his days also as I do not drive while taking the 40 mg of Oxycontin night and morning.

Life goes on..