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Although I’ve got my head round herceptin, and am no longer a seething mass of resentment whenever it comes around, it’s not easy. The side effects of aches and pains and snuffles are a bore, and I am fed up of having a bruise on my arm all the time…. as one fades, it’s time for the next one! There’s part of my left arm that is pretty much permanently purple.
The thing I find most difficult about herceptin, though, is that it sometimes feels a bit as though everyone else has pretty much forgotten about it, or got so used to it that it barely figures. Now, I know it’s not as bad as chemotherapy, not as full-on as radiotherapy, not as dramatic as the drug reaction, but it’s still a relatively big deal to me. Imagine that, out of nowhere, you were told you needed to go and spend most of a day every three weeks having drugs pumped into a vein. For a year. It would matter, no? It’s only the context that makes it seem negligible.
Sometimes it seems that this time is a little like the period after a bereavement. All of the love and care that you’ve had from others doesn’t stop, exactly, after the initial shock and loss, but people do need to get back to their lives, and it can all be a little lonely. Having to remind your family what day you are going for treatment on is a bit depressing. And it’s not that they don’t care, I know that, and I’m glad that Me Having Cancer is no longer the pivot on which our family turns, but still….
So. You can imagine how thrilled I was to be presented with this
by Rebecca and Jude when we went out on Friday night.
The label says, ‘Super Stevie’s ‘bugger herceptin and pass me the gin’ box.’
Inside are lots of presents, for me to open whenever I am feeling a bit fed up of it all. I usually have a moment on the morning of treatment, and I usually have a down day a few days afterwards, so I can see I will be heading for the box then.
Obviously a box of presents is always welcome. But this one is especially appreciated – it came at just the right time, and I am so touched that Jude and Rebecca picked up on what I am feeling and came up with something that will help. I’m sure the little pressies are lovely. But really, right now, it’s the thoughtfulness that counts.
What a brilliant idea!
What lovely friends.
That is a wonderful idea! I have to say that the best gift is the one that can't be wrapped. That is the gift of a smile on your face.
That is a wonderful thing to do for you, how lovely! I had permanent purplish/black track lines up my arm and badly corded viens too! Looked like I had some drug problem or something! The lines are still there, but not coloured as such, just a long dint going on! Ye people say things like, oh but your ok now aren't you? Err no actually! There is so much more to this cancer dance isn't there than a lot people realise!!! Hope you enjoyed your night out. suzie xx
Feels like a gift just reading about this. Some people know exactly what to do, and when. Perfection.