Date

Joanne Wallen

Breast Cancer Ribbon
11
Apr

Busy, busy, busy

posted by:
Joanne Wallen
and viewed 46 times

It’s not been a conscious ploy to distract myself but I have been very busy in the past week and the next few days will be equally full. I’m sure overall that this is a good thing but I can’t help everything being tinged with the knowledge of what’s to come next Friday.

Easter weekend started with an unusually quiet and restful Good Friday. We’d originally planned to go down to Ramsgate on Friday to get ready to take the boat down to Dover for an overnight stay with other boats from the yacht club. But we took a look at the weather forecast. A chilly eight degrees coupled with the prospect of an early start on Saturday and little to do when we got to Dover and we had no problem at all persuading our crew to stay put in Ramsgate.

So we had a lazy morning in bed on Friday and spent the afternoon enjoying the last of the sunshine and warmth in our garden.

We headed down to Ramsgate at about 10 on Saturday morning. There was due to be a race as usual on Easter Sunday so we went straight to the boat and took her out into the outer harbour. Then it was over to daughter Liz’s to walk round to the Fayreness Hotel for lunch with Liz, her partner David ans granddaughters Eve and Fay. The place was packed and we had quite a wait for food but we had a very pleasant couple of hours.

Next it was round to son Matthew’s to spend a little while with Mat, Claire and Olivia before driving back to the boat for a quick change. At 7.30 we met Sue, Tommy, Davena, Roger and Stuart for a cocktail in Age and Sons. I do like their Margaritas!! The evening was rounded off with a meal at Indian restaurant Saffron and a nightcap up at Davena and Roger’s new flat.

The weather was, as expected, chilly at 8am Sunday morning when we went to the shower and prepared ourself for the morning’s race. It was also to be windier than previously expected! Thank goodness for thermal underwear, on top of which I must have had four further layers topped off with salopettes and a huge sailing jacket. Not to mention of course the two hats and a scarf to keep my still bald head and neck warm!!

Thankfully the course set for the race suited the wind conditions and meant that the race lasted little more than an hour (more than enough though in those cold conditions!) and we were safely round the course and back into our berth some two hours after leaving the outer harbour.

There was just time for a cup of tea (or in the case of the rest of my crew a beer!) before getting changed and walking up to Ian and Myra’s for a glass of bubbly or two to celebrate Myra’s birthday. We left them to their family lunch and went to the yacht club for some post-race conviviality. We’d won our class, which always helps of course. Don’t believe a word of those who claim it’s not the winning but the taking part!!

Just before 6pm we left the club and walked round to Sue and Tommy’s for a pleasant little dinner party with a dozen friends — thanks Sue! — (well I did say it was a busy weekend!). We do have our limits though and Martin and I said our goodbyes at a sensible 9pm and walked back to the boat for an early night. We were both in bed by about 9.30 and just for symmetry’s sake, did not get up on Monday until 9.30!

As it is the school holidays we’d offered to bring granddaughter Eve back to London with us for a couple of days. We had a little wander in Ramsgate first and collected Eve at 1 o’clock. We said we would pop round to see Mat, Claire and Olivia on the way home, which meant Fay then wanted to come with to see her little cousin. So we all went round and we ended up leaving Fay there for the afternoon. Fay and Olivia adore each other and play for hours together. Very sweet. Reminds me of me and my cousin Beverley. We were inseparable at their age. Life eventually gets in the way of such relationships but that early bond never totally disappears, which no doubt explains why Beverley, now a GP, and her younger sister Adrienne, have been on the phone so frequently since my diagnosis!

Eve is thirteen and a very easy house guest. We had a quick drink in The Narrow and then went home for a dinner of fresh cod, bought from Cannon’s seafood stall in Ramsgate. By 9pm, granddad was as usual ready for bed, leaving Eve and me to watch TV and chat and me to persuade her to get into bed at around midnight!

Eve’s choice for the next day was originally going to be swimming and shopping but at the last minute the shopping was dropped in favour of a re-visit to the excellent Docklands Museum. This was followed by lunch in Italian restaurant Strada, a walk home to change and allow lunch to digest and then a swim at the Mile End Leisure Centre. I was conscious of the risk of picking up germs in a public swimming pool but also wanted to give my granddaughter the treat she deserved. So I made sure not to put my head in the water and just messed around with Eve in the shallow end. Thanks to her sensible suggestion, I bought a bright red Speedo swimming cap on the way in and this meant that not only was my head kept warm but no one even knew my head was as bald as Duncan Goodhew underneath!

Today, Russell and little Fay are coming up to pick Eve up. This evening I am going to see Singing in the Rain with old school friends Gilly, Dena, Franny and Diana. Tomorrow evening I’m at the London Colliseum to see a Chinese show, Shen Yun. Friday I have to go to Harley Street for Herceptin and am then meeting another old school friend, Anne, for lunch.

So, as I said, I’m busy, busy, busy and I’m still working around all that too. But no amount of busy can erase that nagging little thought at the back of my mind. I know I’ll be fine and I know I’ll be fine quickly too. But first, I just have to go through it.

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5
Apr

The operation looms

posted by:
Joanne Wallen
and viewed 69 times

I was not expecting to hear anything I did not already know when I went to see my surgeon, Robert Carpenter, on Tuesday morning, but I can’t say I was looking forward to it. I knew it would be the final consultation before my operation and the reality of what lay ahead was starting to sink in.

I’m afraid I told my sister Lou a little fib (sorry Lou but sometimes you make me do it!). My appointment was at 10.30. I’d decided when I made the appointment that I’d go on my own. Martin has been with me on all the other visits and that was great. But I didn’t need anyone there for this consultation and in fact I wanted it to be just me and the surgeon for a full and frank discussion. It is my body after all! But when Lou asked if Martin was going with me I said yes, because I knew she would try to insist I had someone with me and volunteer to come or just go on about it and it was easier to tell a small lie!

The good news was that this time Mr Carpenter was pleased with progress. Both the tumour and the lymph node had shrunk considerably even since the last time he saw me a couple of weeks ago. He thought that meant I was responding very well to the Herceptin after just two doses.

But despite the progress he was still not totally happy about the skin on the affected breast, the left breast, and therefore he did not want to reuse it in a standard reconstruction. This meant he would stick to what he said last time and reconstruct the left breast in a second operation. What we did decide after a sensible discussion, was that he would both remove and reconstruct the other breast in the first operation, leaving only the reconstruction of the left breast for the second op.

I say “only”, but because he won’t use the existing skin he will probably take skin from my back, which makes it a more invasive operation. Still, psychologically, we both agreed that this would be the best route for me. After the first op he will be able to decide whether I need any radiotherapy — Dr Nick Plowman said if really necessary I could have a limited amount of radiotherapy but not a full dose — and that will determine when I have the second op.

We then popped in to see Mr Carpenter’s secretary, Lisa, to sort out the date for the operation. Friday 20th April. Oh dear, only two and a half weeks’ time. I’d always known it would be around three weeks after I finished chemo, but that had seemed like a long time away. In many ways the four months of chemo has gone very quickly (helped by the fact that it has gone so smoothly!), and now the big day is racing toward me.

Several people have already asked me how I feel about it. Resigned but scared is probably the best way to describe what I’m feeling. I’m no stranger to operations but as I’ve said before, there is something about the externally visible nature of this one that makes it particularly emotional. It would have been easier if I could have got the whole lot out of the way in one operation and Mr
Carpenter is well aware of that. But he insists that we do the right thing for me medically, and no one can argue with that.

He said I could be in hospital for seven to ten days! That’s a long time in this day and age when they tend to throw you out after a day or two for almost everything. It’s the removal of the lymph nodes that is the big deal in this operation and the reason for the longer stay in hospital. I’ll be in the London Clinic in Harley Street/Devonshire Place. If you’re going to be for a week or more I’m sure this is the place to do it.

I know I’m in great hands and I know that surgery has improved beyond recognition since my first major op on 24th June, 1977. But am I looking forward to it? What do you think?

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1
Apr

Life after chemo — reunions and races

posted by:
Joanne Wallen
and viewed 80 times

On Wednesday, the day after my last chemo, I allowed myself a little break. The forecast was for hot and sunny, up to 23 degrees, unbelievable for 28th March, and I thought a little unexpected sun would be therapeutic.

In the event by the time I’d got some work done and popped out to the doctor to collect a prescription it was lunchtime before I sat out in the garden. The sun was boiling and just as in the height of summer, the patio tiles were blistering. Hot sun and chemo were a bit too powerful a mix and I found myself nodding off, so took myself in for a little lie down in bed. I’m glad to say this was probably one of the only times I’d had to do that since starting treatment and I’m sure it did me no harm.

Some while ago one of Martin’s old army friends had told him about a reunion some of the Welsh contingent would be having in Abergavenny. We knew it would be around the time of my last chemo and thought it could have clashed with my operation. Martin was quite keen to go but didn’t think seriously about it until a week or so ago. It turned out that the reunion was on Thursday 29th. We talked about him going alone, but decided that it would be a little break for us both and that I could work on the journey and on arrival and still attend the reunion in the evening.

So we set off at around 9am on Thursday morning, me surrounded by my Blackberry, iPhone and iPad (a true mobile office) and Martin prepared for the four-hour drive. But first, we needed to find diesel — easier said than done on the morning the government had so responsibly told people to keep their cars topped up with fuel whether they needed it or not and before the tanker drivers had even officially announced a strike!

The first three stations we tried in south London were all out of diesel. As a taxi driver Martin knows where all the fuel stations are but we were beginning to despair. “if we haven’t found diesel before we get to the M4 we’ll have to turn back, ” Martin decided. Fortunately we found fuel at Earl’s Court and were on our way.

The weather was lovely again and I had a decent story to work on. It involved, as my work often does, reading a fairly long and not always exciting paper published by the Financial Services Authority. But it is surprising how easy it is to concentrate on such a paper when you have no distractions other than the sound of the car moving quietly along the motorway.

The reunion was taking place in a pub/hotel, the King’s Arms, but rooms there red fully booked by the time we’d decided to attend, so we booked into a nearby guest house, the Black Lion. It had been recommended and it turned out to be fine. But first appearances gave us cause for concern. They were not really ready for us when we arrived at about 1.30 so told us to wait in their lounge while they got our room ready. The lounge was cluttered with all manner of ornaments and soft toys and seriously actually had a row of flying ducks on the wall like something out of a bad sitcom. We looked at each other. What had we done?

But then the room was ready and we were very pleasantly surprised. It was a very large room with a little sitting area as you walked in. It had a double and single bed, en-suite shower room, toiletries, tea and coffee-making facilities and even a bathrobe and slippers in the wardrobe. The owners were very helpful and breakfast, as it turned out, was very good.

After settling in we walked the few minutes down the road into the town and stopped for a drink not at the King’s Arms, but the King’s Head, just round the corner. We sat outside in the glorious sunshine in Abrgavenny’s pretty little main shopping street. While sat there Martin spotted three of the guys from the reunion having s little wander in the town. We headed round the corner to the King’s Arms and met the first group of attendees. I’ve been going to army reunions with Martin since we met nearly 29 years ago so knew most of the people there. After a quick catch up I left them to it and found a spot at a table outside the pub in the sun and in range of a wifi connection. There I had peace and quiet and all the time I needed to write and file my story for work.

The evening consisted of a light meal, plenty of drink and chatting about old times for the boys and some karaoke and dancing in a separate room, which I and the other wives participated in — more group singing than karaoke! — but it made a pleasant change. Once again, even though I couldn’t claim to know any of thee people well, they had all been shocked to hear about my illnesses and everyone had kind thoughts and nice things to say. We retreated sensibly (well almost), at 11pm. I believe many of them went on until 1am.

After a good breakfast we set off back across the Severn Bridge and I was back in my mobile office. This time we had an even longer journey as we were heading straight down to Ramsgate for the weekend. I was able to do telephone interviews en route and start writing up my story. No different I suppose to working on the train but in my view a very good use of time, especially when you have a nice calm driver!

Once in Ramsgate we checked in to friend Stuart’s flat. Our boat, Magnum, was still out of the water having its bottom anti-fouled for the start of the racing season today, April Fool’s Day” so we stayed at Stu”s on Friday night. Once again I used the yacht club’s computer to finish off my work before joining a couple of friends for a drink. After the long drive and socialising we decided to have a quiet night in at Stuart’s, where Martin cooked us dinner and we watched a bit of TV before retiring.

Hanging in the hoist

We had to be up before 8 on Saturday as the boat was due to be craned back in the water at 9am. It was a chilly morning and the harbour was running a bit late, so after an hour of hanging round in the cold we were pleased to climb onto the boat (while she was hanging in the hoist, scary) and get lowered back into the water. We moored up in the outer harbour ready for the next day’s race and made arrangements to see our two granddaughters, Eve and Fay, after Eve’s dance class at 2.30.

That left us with about three hours to kill. First, we headed to Enoteca, one of the cafe bars on the front in Ramsgate, for a coffee. Then we decided to “have a wander”. We started walking along by the beach heading East, and just kept walking all the way to Broadstairs, a good 50-minute walk. It was grey and overcast but not too cold and the quiet walk along the sand disturbed only by dog-walkers, did us both good. I love arriving on Brosdstairs beach. It is such a pretty little bay and unspoiled since the days when my grandparents used to take trips down there, way before I was born.

Having had such a good walk there and no breakfast it would have been rude not to share a portion of chips before heading back to Ramsgate, this time along the cliff top. I was fine with the walk but have noticed that my aerobic fitness levels are not quite what they should be. Walking up the 90 odd steps of Jacob’s Ladder, I really started to struggle. Still, not too bad after 4 months of chemo I guess.

We had a nice lunch with the girls at the Fayreness, not far from where they live. It is always a pleasure to see the grandchildren. Eve, at 13, is old enough to ask sensitive, grown up questions about my illness and how I’m getting on. Well, I assured her. I’d finished the chemo and had to have an operation soon. At six, Fay is pretty astute too but young enough to have an “out of the mouths of babes” moment. Why did I need an operation? She asked. Because I was poorly, Eve told her. “but you’re not poorly,” Fay said, looking straight at me. She was quite right, I assured her, I was not poorly. The operation was to make sure I didn’t get poorly!

We dropped the girls round at their other grandmother’s, Martin’s ex-wife, and were going to head back to the boat for a rest before going out for a meal with friends in the evening. But just as we dropped the girls off, son Matthew phoned to say he was in Ramsgate with Olivia, our just turned four year-old granddaughter, so we headed back to the yacht club and met them there. After running round chasing Olivia and visiting all floors of the club for her to inspect the bedrooms and have a sneaky ride on the stair lift, I really was ready for a lie down. We sacrificed most of our rest though for the pleasure of Mat and Olivia’s company — poor daughter-in-law Claire was home in bed with tonsillitis — and ended up lying down for about 30 minutes.

A quick change and it was out into the chilly evening for a pre-dinner drink followed by a pleasant meal at fish restaurant Atlantis with Stu, Tommy and Sue, Davena, Norma and Paul and Paul’s mum,

Only the hardy, us two and Sue and Tommy, made it back to the club for a nightcap where I fancied nothing more than a nice cup of tea.

Unfortunately I had a bad night with my nose being blocked again — partly the fault of the chemo — and I was anxious as to whether I was up to sailing in the morning. This was partly because I hadn’t slept well, partly because I thought it would be very cold and partly because I didn’t know whether I would have the energy.

Luckily, I felt ok when I got up just before 8. Went into my usual pre-sailing routine of going up for a shower and then grabbing some breakfast. We were in luck. The sun was shining, which took the edge off a very chill morning. I ate my bacon sandwich and drank a cappuccino outside Ship Shape in the sunshine and felt more enthusiastic about the impending sail.

The sea was very calm for our first race of the season and the sun stayed out all morning. With thermals and plenty of layers I was happily warm enough and the winds were light, meaning the sail was anything but strenuous.

I did feel a little strange about things though. I’m intending to sail the next couple of races, but then I will have my operation. What I can’t quite get my head round is how long I’ll need to be out of action recovering. I’m sure I won’t be able to do anything too strenuous for a while, but I hope to be able to sail later in the season. I’m sure I will. I might just have to get better at supervising and delegating for a while. You boy, pull that sail in, now!!!

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28
Mar

Final chemo — one milestone down!

posted by:
Joanne Wallen
and viewed 57 times

I had my last (of eight) chemo sessions yesterday. Everyone there asked if I would be celebrating later. In truth, the idea of celebrating hadn’t occurred to me. I had been looking at it as one step closer to what for me is the big thing, the operation or operations.

But the more I thought about it the more I realised it was of course a cause for celebration. Not only have I finished chemo but I have handled it really well, virtually without side effects. And when I saw Dr Alison Jones, my oncologist, yesterday she said the tumour had shrunk even more. Also, I saw another oncologist, Dr Nick Plowman, who specialises in radiotherapy, after chemo and he said that while he’d prefer that I didn’t have any more radiotherapy it was not out of the question if deemed really necessary — good news as it allows maximum flexibility. So when Martin decided to get us a Chinese takeaway last night on our return from dropping Lou home after chemo we raised a glass to the closing of the first phase of my treatment.

The rest of the day had run like a military operation thanks to General Louise Bradford. My sister had taken it upon herself to ensure we didn’t have to suffer the inefficiencies we’d had last time, particularly since I wasn’t due down for chemo until 10.30 yesterday and I had to see Dr Plowman down the road at number 20 Harley Street at 4.45. Last time we had a 9.30 appointment for chemo and weren’t out of there until nearly 4.45. But there had been problems and delays.

So yesterday, before we went up to see Dr Jones, Lou popped down to the chemo suite, (where of course she knows everyone by now!) and “had a word”. I’ve no idea what she said but it sure worked! I’d barely sat down when a nurse was by my side doing the routine checks — temperature and weight. Then she was straight back to access my port and take blood and she asked us if we’d like a drink and ordered us tea and coffee. The rest of the day ran just as smoothly. Blood results were back quickly, pre-meds were administered, the buzzer that indicates the drip has run through, or stopped running for some reason, was answered immediately and coffees came thick and fast.

Lou has a knack of getting things done without upsetting anyone. They were all friendly and happy and came over to chat from time to time. But they were also more efficient yesterday than I’ve ever seen them. Lou once worked with me for a while at NOP and I’ve seen her in action. She’s a whirlwind. Her work can look scruffy and messy, her writing’s illegible even to her, but she’s also scarily efficient and will not tolerate inefficiency in others. She just has a funny, witty way of getting people on side. Worth her weight in gold to any business!

There was however an unintended consequence of all this efficiency. We were all finished and out on the street by 3.30 so we had over an hour to kill before my appointment! Luckily the sun was shining so we wandered down Marylebone High Street, had yet another coffee and managed to chat away the time.

So the end of the beginning, or maybe the middle, went very well and yes, of course it merits a celebration. But then again I’ve been celebrating every day, so perhaps that’s why it hadn’t occurred to me to have an extra celebration yesterday. I see the surgeon, Mr Robert Carpenter, again next Tuesday and I expect he’ll make a final decision about whether he’ll be doing one or two operations. I had a session of Reiki therapy on Monday (comes highly recommended and is supposed to help my body have the energy to heal itself). My therapist, Mohan, told me my body pulls in a lot of energy and repairs itself quickly. I think I knew that but it’s good to hear!

So it’s onwards and upwards. I most certainly will be having a big celebration one of these days, to which you’ll all be invited. But not just yet. There are a few more hurdles to get over yet but I’m sure I’ll leap them in style. In the meantime, cheers to the end of chemo and cheers for all your continuing support! Xxx

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25
Mar

Plenty of distraction but the big day looms

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Joanne Wallen
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On Thursday I had a work lunch in the City with Fay Goddard, chief executive of the Personal Finance Society (PFS). We were due to meet at 1pm at Davey’s in Basinghall Street. Cheekily, I asked to move it to 1.15 so that I could still fit in a yoga class at 12.15. Well, under the circumstances I decided that my physical and mental well being merited moving s business lunch!

Fay is a good contact but she’s also someone I could easily imagine being friends with outside of work. She was genuinely concerned about my situation and we had a good chat over a light lunch moving easily between business and personal issues.

It is a while since Ive been into the office so I decided to pop in after lunch. Luckily I picked a time when all of my colleagues were in. I was prepared to sit at my desk and do a bit of work, but when I looked beneath the desk to switch my PC on, it wasn’t actually there. IT had given it to my colleague when his got a virus. Oh well, at least I still had a desk! So I had a natter wit h a few people, had a cup of tea and headed home.

On Friday I did the 30 minute abs class followed by Pilates. I then walked back to Tower Hill and got the river bus back to Canary Wharf. Once home I carried on with my work and started writing up my story. But I suddenly realised I was feeling very tired and I crawled into bed. I just needed to recharge my batteries. This was the first time I’ve felt the urge to get into bed since I started chemo. I probably just cat-napped and was ready to get up and carry on within the hour.

When Martin got home we popped out to The Grapes for a couple of drinks with the locals. Then it was home for dinner and a DVD. We watched State of Play with Russell Crowe, Rachel McAdams and Helen Mirren — quite gripping and watchable.

On Saturday we unusually spent the day at home, albeit mostly in ghe garden. Martin had been waiting for the right time to have a big post-winter clear up in the garden and Saturday’s unseasonably warm and sunny weather was the ideal opportunity. I also caught up with some chores and then got to grips with some admin, which fortunately I was able to do while sitting in the garden.

Around 4.30 I went in to have a bath and start getting ready to go out for the evening. We were going over to Maida Vale for a little soirée at the flat of Barbara, the previous landlady of the Grapes. Since nine of us ŵere heading over from Limehouse we booked two mini cabs to pick us up at 6.45. First we we’re invited in for a ‘snifter’ at Sarah’s.

First I had a relaxing bath, painted my nails, got dressed and did my makeup. I had an hour and a half from leaving the garden in which to do this and not even a single hair to dry or style! What was particularly luxurious about this is that most Saturday evenings down in Ramsgate I’m rushing back to the boat from seeing the grandchildren or whatever and end up with a ten-minute turnaround to get changed and ready for the evening’s entertainment.

Barbara’s “mansion flat”, which she’s owned for thirty years but only recently moved back into after living above the Grapes for years, is lovely and we had a very pleasant evening with good food, good company and of course the odd glass or two. Our cabs arrived to collect us at 11pm, a sensible time particularly since the clocks were going forward and we did not therefore get to bed until 1am in new money.

We made up for the lost hour by staying in bed for much of the morning on Sunday. How decadent! Then it was off for a wander to Spitalfields market. We took the DLR to Tower Hill, had a wander round the buzzing market and then took a slow walk home via Tower Hill, St Katharine’s Dock and the Prospect of Whitby.

Despite the distraction of the busy market and the pleasure of the early spring sunshine, the spectre of my impending operation is looming ever larger as I approach the last chemo session. Martin spotted that my mind was elsewhere as we waited to be served in the Prospect and asked what was up. I’m sure he didn’t need me to tell him but he made me put it into words. He understood why I would be beginning to worry. There were some major physical and mental hurdles to overcome. One thing I need not worry about, he assured me, was his reaction to the physical changes. That brought the tears to my eyes. Of course I know he’ll handle it, but it won’t be easy for either of us.

But we’ll be fine. And every time I start to feel a little sorry for myself I am immediately reminded of the vast number of people who are so much worse off than I am. So I’ll deal with it when it happens. At the moment I’m pencilled in for surgery on 25th April. In the mean time I’ll get Tuesday out of the way and then make the most of the next few weeks’ break!

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22
Mar

Sunshine and cocktails

posted by:
Joanne Wallen
and viewed 52 times

People continue to admire and be amazed by my incredibly positive attitude to my situation but I would not like to give the impression that I’m some sort of super-hero — there are down moments to overcome. I had one such moment yesterday morning, although I’m not convinced it was actually to do with the breast cancer. I was just feeling out of sorts, down on myself.

I was in the bath, reading the gripping novel The Redbreast by Jo Nesbo, when my friend Dena phoned to make arrangements for our planned meeting in the evening. She immediately picked up on something in my voice and to my surprise, I heard myself telling her I was a bit fed up. Under normal circumstances Dena and I meet occasionally for a drink straight from work. I would leave the office at about 6pm and we’d meet, usually at some West End hotel, for a cocktail or two!

But I’m not working in the office at the moment and some days, after I’ve been to the gym at lunchtime, I’m more than happy to get home. So when Dena asked if I was ok to meet at the Langham, near Oxford Circus, my reaction was that I’d prefer somewhere nearer to home. I said I’d have a think about where and phone her back.

I had already decided to go to yoga, so started to get ready to go out. But what to wear? The weather was going to be sunny and up to 16 degrees. Ok, this was not about breast cancer. I was feeling a bit fat (I haven’t actually put on more than a pound or two and that happens every winter) and it was that in between seasons feeling, the wardrobe suddenly doesn’t work.

And then suddenly, I knew what I had to do. I would get out of the house as quickly as possible and take the boat up to the gym, allowing me to get out into the sunshine. I then selected a red short-sleeved dress with a navy jacket. I looked in the mirror. Where was that fat, dowdy girl who was here a few minutes ago? Make-up on, turban on and a very different person from the fed-up woman on the phone left the house and walked out into the sunshine. The boat ride cheered me further and by the time I crossed the bridge toward the gym I had decided what to do about the evening. I had my iPad on me. I would go to the gym, find somewhere to install myself in the sunshine and do my work. I would then suggest to Dena that we meet at the Savoy.

She agreed to meet me at 5.30. Yoga went well and I then went round the corner to a fairly new bar on the river, the Oyster Shed. I had a tasty salad lunch sitting outside in the sunshine and then moved inside to use their wifi and write up a story. I did consider going into the office but I was getting on well with the story and decided it would be a distraction to move at that point.

Story filed, I realised the quickest way of getting to the Savoy was to walk. The sun was still glorious and the 20 minute walk along the embankment added to my increasingly good mood. Dena had already got us a table in the American Bar when I arrived. The Savoy is looking resplendent since its recent refurbishment and they’ve managed to retain the old atmosphere while totally renewing the interior.

I do like the American bar. Yes, of course you pay the price for your surroundings, but for us, it’s worth it. We had a good catch up over a couple of fine cocktails (I had margarita), accompanied by olives and nuts and a pianist who sounded like Michael Buble singing lounge standards. While we were engrossed in conversation one of the barmen came over to our table and leaned over to me. “May I just say you look stunning in that red dress,” he said. Yes you may indeed, I thought! “What about me?” Dena said, possibly only half joking. Strange, I’ve had more comments from strangers since I lost my hair and started covering my head with colourful turbans, than I’ve had for many, many years!

We started early so we finished early and I was home by 8.45. Yes, I am thoroughly spoilt. Martin sprung into action to put our dinner on the table when I walked in. A nice dish of plaice, broccoli tops and mashed potato. He’d even waited to eat with me.

My day had turned completely around from fed-up to fab. I’m no super-hero but nor will I allow the down bits to linger. There are so many ways to shake off the blues. Of course sunshine and cocktails are the very best of those!!

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20
Mar

A marathon, not a sprint

posted by:
Joanne Wallen
and viewed 67 times

We stayed in London this weekend, mainly so that we could invite mum and dad up for Mothers’ Day lunch on Sunday. As it turned out there were also three games of rugby on Saturday afternoon for the finish of the Six Nations, so Martin was quite happy to sit at home and watch them.

We popped out first to Waitrose, where Martin bought dinner for Saturday evening and Sunday lunch. Then while he settled down to rugby I walked down to Canary Wharf in search of a Mothers’ Day present. Although mum doesn’t “need” anything, she’s not hard to buy for as she just loves clothes and particularly clothes that glitter!

The first thing I saw ended up being one of two things I bought. It was a blue and silver jumper with little sequins. Very bling and very Barbara! I proceeded to do the grand tour of both Canary Wharf and Jubilee Place, but did not see anything more suited to mother. Some two hours later, I returned to River Island and while looking for said bling jumper spotted a pretty silky jacket that I thought would suit mum. I hummed and hawed over the two items and in the end decided to buy both, thinking that one might have to go back anyway. As it turned out, she loved them both! Oh well, I’m very lucky to still have her and she deserves it!

In the evening our old friend Chris was due to come over after spending the day in Hampton Court and stay the night. He eventually arrived at about 9pm, had a spot of dinner and then we chatted until midnight before retiring.

On Sunday, despite the fact that sister Lou had decided to join us for lunch (her partner Bev had to work), I still had to go and pick mum and dad and Lou up. This is because no one, it seems, trusts Lou’s driving. Since it was Mothers’ Day, I didn’t want mum getting stressed, so I picked them all up and took them home again. We had a pleasant afternoon and Martin did a lovely lunch, as usual!

I suppose it had been quite a busy weekend, added to which I hadn’t been sleeping well. So it was perhaps not so surprising that I felt pretty tired on Monday. It may also have been exacerbated by sub-consciously worrying about today’s visit to the surgeon. The result was that I found it almost impossible to motivate myself to do anything. Plan A had been to do some work, go to the gym and in the evening join friend Franny for the launch of her “Step Outside” guides, lovely books aimed at families wanting a free day out in London, guided by the children.

But as the morning progressed I realised that I just didn’t feel like doing anything. I just about managed to bath and dress and then all I wanted to do was sit on the settee and watch TV. I watched the end of a film I’d started the day before and caught up with the first episode of a serial. Even though the sun was out and usually I can’t bear to be inside when it is, I didn’t even fancy a walk or merely sitting in the garden. My mind and body were just calling out for a rest and, virtually for the first time since I started chemo, I allowed myself to give them a rest.

Sadly this all meant that I didn’t feel like going up to Franny’s do, which meant I missed an evening with my very good old friends. But I’ve been very lucky with my health and energy levels so far and it was a small price to pay.

This morning I went to see my surgeon, Mr Carpenter. I wasn’t looking forward to it, probably because the last visit felt a bit negative. Martin brought me up in the taxi and as usual, we arrived early. We popped into Marco Polo’s in Marylebone High Street for a coffee and were round at 145 Harley Street by 8.50, when he called us in straight away.

Happily, this visit felt more positive than the last. He was pleased with the amount the tumour had shrunk although there was still a bit of an oedema on the skin.

We had a good discussion about whether he would be able to do everything in one operation (mastectomy plus reconstruction) or whether he would still opt for two separate operations. The jury is still out. I will see a radiologist to help decide whether I can have any radiotherapy or not. The dosage I had at 18 might preclude me having any more. I will then see Mr Carpenter again In two weeks, by which time I will have had today’s Herceptin and next week’s final chemo. I am now resigned to having either one or two operations. We shall see.

I’m just finishing today’s Herceptin. It will have taken a total of about two and a half hours. I managed to persuade both Lou and my mum that I didn’t need them here today. It would have been too much effort for them to get here and it really wasn’t necessary. I’ve had just enough time to have a coffee and croissant, write this blog and speak to Lou (3 times so far!) and Martin on the phone. I’m sadly a regular here now and will be for the next year for the Herceptin, so everyone is friendly and it’s really no problem sitting here on your own.

Next Tuesday is my last chemo, the end of phase one. Lou always said this was a marathon, not a sprint, and she’s quite right. Fortunately for me, I was always better at long distance than sprinting!

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17
Mar

People are amazing!

posted by:
Joanne Wallen
and viewed 71 times

People never cease to amaze me. As I was coming into the flats yesterday a neighbour was coming out. She is a young woman with a young family and was just taking her three-week old baby to the doctor. We’ve only ever said a brief hello in the past although I have had a bit of a run-in with her husband on email about matters pertaining to the running of the block. So I was very surprised firstly to realise that she knew about my condition and secondly that she was so concerned.

She asked me how i was getting on and said she had asked around to find out how I was. She also told me I was in her prayers. How touching and how unexpected!

Even though I did not feel too bad on the first lot of chemo drugs, I realise that I feel better on this second lot, not as spaced out in the first couple of days. So on Wednesday I walked to the gym — about an hour’s walk — did a power yoga class and walked back. In the evening we were taken out for an Italian meal at La Figa, Limehouse, by old friend Mike Burke. We had a very pleasant and different evening. Thanks Mike!

Thursday was forecast to be a lovely sunny day and I was going out to the theatre in the evening so I decided to give myself a day in, or rather out in the garden. I sat outside in the glorious sunshine squinting at my computer screen, but I managed both to soak up the rays and do my work. I must admit I finally went in to actually write up my story. The combination of the rest, the sunshine and getting a story done for work was very refreshing.

I then got ready and headed down to pick up the river boat to take me to Bankside pier for my evening at the Menier Chocolate Factory. I met friends Gilly and Sally in the Menier’s lovely bistro restaurant for a pre-theatre meal. We were there to see Abigail’s party, the 1970′s Mike Leigh play with its cringe-making exposé of petty suburban snobbery and marriage tensions.

The Menier usually manages to offer a set menu that reflects the theme of the evening’s play, and Abigail’s Party menu included 1970s staple, prawn cocktail, followed by either Chicken Kiev or Quiche Lorraine. Sally plumped for the prawns and the quiche but Gilly and I went a la carte with a delicious salad and soup/duck egg and asparagus respectively to start.

The play was just as excruciating as the original but brilliantly done. Alison Steadman may have made the lead character Beverley her own thirty years ago but Jill Halfpenny was brilliant in the role. The whole cast was excellent and seeing it in such a small theatre made you feel like you were sitting with them in Beverley and Lawrence’s brown and orange sitting room listening to Demis Roussos on the record player!

Friday was another work and gym day. I took the DLR to the gym, did a 30 minute abs class followed by 45 minutes of Pilates. Then it was home to work. In the evening we met Sue and Tommy for a drink in Camino’s by the river. It was buzzy and noisy in there but we had a pleasant couple of hours before heading home to eat and for a relatively early night.

I continue to get texts, emails and phone calls from many of my friends and family to see how I’m getting on and I’m really touched by the amount of time people spend thinking about me. As I approach the end of chemo, (last one hopefully on 27th March), there is still a lot ahead of me. But the support and love and friendship and kindness will continue to see me safely through it. Thanks to you all! Xxx

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15
Mar

Time out with mum and some good news

posted by:
Joanne Wallen
and viewed 60 times

On Monday I had a couple of tests ahead of Tuesday’s chemo, which gave me the excuse (not that I need one) to spend some quality time with my mum, who wanted to come with me. Dad went to his art class as usual and I picked mum up and brought her up to Limehouse. From here we got the river bus up to town. She”d never been on the fast catamaran so enjoyed the trip. It is a great way to travel.

Naturally the day was not all about things medical. I couldn’t possibly have taken mother to the West End without giving her her daily dose of shops! We went to Covent Garden, where we had a good wander in the sunshine. In a shoe shop on the corner of the piazza and James Street which made mum’s eyes light up with its large array of glitzy shoes, I found a leather and chain bracelet that I thought was right up my sister Lou’s alley.

It’s not easy buying Lou gifts and I thought it would be a good idea to buy it anyway even though her birthday isn’t until August. And then I thought, why not buy it as a thank you for coming with me to nearly every chemo session (I stood her down only once when friend Gilly came with me). So mother got her shopping fix and I got a nice gift which I shall give Lou the week after next at my last chemo session.

Mum and I then pushed the boat out with a late lunch in the piazza where we shared a slice of pizza. We know how to live. We were serenaded by an opera singer singing beautiful arias down on the lower floor of the piazza and all in all had a very pleasant time together. It was great to get mum out of her little rut of going only to Ilford or Romford. And while dad is doing really well for 85, his walking hasn’t been the same since the sudden onset of severe arthritis in his ankle a few years ago and his subsequent ankle replacement. He does tend to slow mum down now and I think they’ve lost their confidence to venture outside of their comfort zone. Mum definitely seemed rejuvenated by our little trip. We got the river boat back to Canary Wharf and I drove her home.

On Tuesday we had an early start. Having not got out of Harley Street last time until gone 9pm, we decided to reschedule to start early and at least get out at a reasonable time. Bev dropped Lou here at 7.45 and Martin took Lou and I up to Harley Street. My appointment with the oncologist was at 9.30 and in the event we got up there by 8.30 so went for breakfast in my favourite little cafe in Marylebone Lane, Marco Polo. We had a cheese omelette and toast with coffee. The food is excellent and the prices are incredibly reasonable.

Good news

Breakfast set me up for the day. It was then time to walk round to Harley Street to see Dr Alison Jones. And Dr Jones had some very welcome good news for me. Upon examination she said the tumour had shrunk very significantly since the last time. We were both very pleased with ourselves. One of the breast care nurses was in with us this time. I hadn’t seen her for some time and both she and Dr Jones remarked on how well I looked. I told them that several people had said that recently. “I’m beginning to wonder if I’m doing something wrong!”, I said. On the contrary, the replied, I was doing it absolutely right. I was, one of them said, the “poster girl for chemo”. Not perhaps something I would have aspired to as a young girl, but if you have to do it, you might as well do it well!

After this it was down to the chemo suite. I hadn’t realised that although last time I had both chemo and the first dose of Herceptin, I would not have more Herceptin this week. I’m having Herceptin every three weeks so have to go back next week for that.

Medically, everything went smoothly. My port worked fine, they saw to me quite quickly, took blood, the results were back in reasonable time and they started my pre-meds even before the blood results were back. But for some reason it felt like things weren’t running smoothly. Minor things in the scheme of the good news I’d just received but they were mildly aggravating. For a start we were there for more than 40 minutes and no one asked if we’d like a drink, so Lou had to go and chase for the girl to come and take our order for coffee.

It was like that all day, and not just for drinks. When the drips have gone through or stopped running for some reason, they bleep. This should be a signal for one of the nurses to come and sort them out. But we found out late in the day that they were a bit short staffed, and it showed. Again, Lou kept jumping up to chase them when my bleeper had been going for a while. And despite the fact that my blood results were back around midday, apparently showing a slightly high white cell count, it was only when we chased my take-home medication later in the afternoon that they thought to ask Dr Jones whether she still wanted me to have the injection that I give myself the day after chemo to boost my white cell count.

This meant that although I was all finished by 4pm, we had to wait until gone 4.30 for the pharmacy to get the answer back from Dr Jones, who did still want me to have the injection. Pharmacy then brought down the medication but forgot the antibiotics that I have to take each time as a preventative measure because I don’t have a spleen and could therefore be more susceptible to infection. As I said, medically the day went fine but the other inefficiencies were a tad irritating, particularly when you know how much each of these sessions cost. Luckily another nice reflexology session helped calm me down but Lou did not have that to help her!

Martin was waiting patiently outside for us and took Lou back to my parents’ house to pick up her car. We popped in briefly and were home by 7. Still a long day but I felt fine, particularly in the knowledge that the important news was definitely moving in the right direction!

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12
Mar

Curtains, lifeboats and a 4th birthday party

posted by:
Joanne Wallen
and viewed 92 times

It’s a long time since we did any D.I.Y in the flat or bought any new furnishings. Somehow the boat has taken much of our focus over the past five years or so. However, the very fine curtains at our bedroom window are now ripping to shreds and we have been looking to replace all the curtains for a while.

Since I’ve been spending quite a bit of time in Harley Street recently I’ve also been spending more time than is healthy in nearby Marylebone Hight Street. For those not familiar with said high street, let’s just say it’s not cheap! So when I went into Fired Earth to look at curtain fabric I should have known better. A rather pleasant fabric with a simple, large blue flower pattern on a cream background would, the woman told me without a hint of a smile, cost me £500 per window, made up into lined curtains of course! Since we have six windows to furnish, I thanked her sincerely and beat a quick retreat.

Thus it was that we decided to go to Ramsgate on Saturday via Ikea in Thurrock. Ok, the downside is that you have to walk five miles round the whole store, following arrows that continually promise to show you to the department you want and then to the exit but are really part of some elaborate maze hoax. But we did find some curtains we liked, ready made, unlined but we need them to be light, and they cost us the princely sum of £77. Not per metre, not per curtain. Not even per window. For the whole lot. Six pairs of curtains! We even managed to find our way to the checkouts without picking up dozens of little items we never knew we wanted and without stopping in the restaurant for some Swedish meatballs!

Of course, next time you come round I will claim that the ridiculously cheap Ikea curtains were no good and we had to replace them with some Fired Earth fabric after all!

We got down to Ramsgate at 2pm and had a quick drink in the lovely garden of the Belle Vue in Pegwell. Then parked the car by the marina and headed up to the yacht club both for Martin to watch the Six Nations rugby match and to meet ex son-in-law Russell and our grandchildren Fay and Josh. Friends Sue and Tommy arrived and Paul and Norma were also there. A pleasant afternoon was spoiled only by a misunderstanding with eldest granddaughter Eve, who was upset that she had not been asked to join her younger siblings. We were upset that she was upset.

After a short break down on the boat we got ready for the RNLI supper at the club. The supper is a thank you to the local lifeboat crew, who all of us sailors hope we’ll never need but know how glad we would be for their help were we ever to need it. A pleasant evening was had by all and we managed to get out relatively unscathed at the sensible hour of 11pm. Once again I had received an exceptionally warm welcome from many of the club members, all of whom have been very touchingly concerned about my well being and very supportive.

Sunday was no day of rest. We had Olivia’s fourth birthday party to attend. We awoke to a glorious sunny morning. While Martin went shopping for the food he’d offered to cook for the adults attending, I grabbed a few minutes in the sunshine on the back of the boat. A taste of things to come, I thought. Then it was over to Mat and Claire”s while they were at Jungle Jim’s at Quex Park with Olivia and her friends.

Being no help at all in the kitchen (actually Martin always turns down offers of help as he prefers to cook alone, phew!) I found a sunny spot at the end of the garden and enjoyed some peace, quiet and glorious sunshine. The birthday girl arrived home at just after 1pm with her entourage of friends and cousin Fay and parents in tow. By this time, no more than an hour and a half after we’d arrived, there was a spread on the table that would have fed 30 people and that a cordon bleu chef would have been proud of. The children ran round chasing each other, took turns bouncing on the trampoline in the garden, played statues and pass the parcel and generally had a lot of fun while the adults chatted, ate, drank and in some cases watched rugby as best they could.

Despite a few underlying family tensions and the unspoken sadness of one, arguably the most important of Olivia’s four grandmothers no longer being with us, everyone ensured that the children, and Olivia in particular, had a lovely day. For me it was a wonderful tonic and I was able to forget for a while about treatment and operations.

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