Learning Curves

Helen Gaize

Description

Despite following medical advice to the letter, as well as having been told by her doctor that all was well, Helen was faced with Grade 3 breast cancer at the age of 48, already at Stage 2 on discovery. The series of surgeries and treatments that followed eventually culminated in a double mastectomy, but this potentially gruelling walk back to health was taken with God, with grace and with some unexpected surprises and delights, 'pearls' which were too good to keep to herself. Learning Curves is a memoir in two parts. The first part, 'Learning Curves and Pearls', describes her passage through a potentially fatal illness - a journey in faith and frailty towards a positive outcome. The second part, 'Learning Curves and Lollipops', describes the difficult pathway back to physical wholeness, including coming to terms with a new body and some growth and differences in outlook. This process was accompanied by sweet treats that she came to think of as 'lollipops from the Lord'. Helen's journey back to health contained many soul-searching decisions, post-operative issues and problems, but was ultimately accompanied by experiences to wonder at, as well as a large helping of marvels and miracles. Inspiring and touching, her story will particularly appeal to Christians interested in reading about journeys of faith, as well as those wishing to learn more about the learning process that occurs after a diagnosis of cancer.

Sujets

• Philosophie et théologie
• Memoir

Informations

• Publié par: Troubador Publishing Ltd
• Date de parution: 26 septembre 2018
• Nombre de lectures: 1
• EAN13: 9781785894084
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 1 Mo

Extrait

Copyright © 2018 Helen Gaize

The moral right of the author has been asserted.

Apart from any fair dealing for the purposes of research or private study, or criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988, this publication may only be reproduced, stored or transmitted, in any form or by any means, with the prior permission in writing of the publishers, or in the case of reprographic reproduction in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency. Enquiries concerning reproduction outside those terms should be sent to the publishers.

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ISBN 978 1785894 084

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Contents
Foreword
Part One
Learning Curves and Pearls
Part Two
Learning Curves and Lollipops

Foreword
The events described in this book began fifteen years ago. During the ensuing years, I know that many aspects of treatment and practice will have changed or improved. Fifteen years is a very long learning time in terms of the treatment of cancer and in the world of plastic surgery. However, I can only tell my own story, and that is what I have set down here for you. It is important to state that, for most people, the journey from diagnosis to discharge, even then, was very much less complicated, and very much swifter, than mine – but I can only write from my own experience. I am, in any case, delighted with my positive outcome!
As is often the case in this genre of writing, some names of persons and locations in my account have been changed in order to protect the privacy and rights of others.
I owe huge thanks to all of the surgical, medical and hospital personnel, without exception, who were so patient with me and my trials and demands. They not only saved my life but quite literally made me the person I physically am today, and that was some task!

Huge thanks are due also to Professor Jane Plant for her wonderful book, ‘Your Life in Your Hands’, indispensable, in my view, as it is so very helpful to those suffering from breast cancer. She has books to help those diagnosed with other cancers also.

Those who are affected by Life and fertility issues similar to the ones described in these pages can now find a rich source of information and help from the website of NaPro TECHNOLOGY and the work of Thomas W Hilgers, MD, whose definitive textbook was published in 2004.

The many people who accompanied me on my journey and as I wrote know who they are: they are too numerous to name. They also know that I will never be able to thank them enough for all that they have done for me. Without their support I would have been lost. I am particularly blessed in my family; thank-you all.

Most importantly, and always… Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit, as it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be! Thank-you, God! Amen.

Part One
Learning Curves and Pearls
I had done everything right. That was what made the whole situation somehow harder to grasp. Mum had died of breast cancer when I was thirty. I had attended for regular mammograms since. I had been ‘breast aware’. A couple of lumps had been removed and investigated as a precaution; they were benign.
Self-examination of my breasts had always been difficult. Due to that surgery, and also to fertility treatment I had received in my twenties, they were always ‘lumpy’. They were also large – a size 34 G or H cup – which no one outside an unhealthy media spotlight could possibly desire! Indeed, I would have qualified for breast reduction surgery on the NHS, had I sought it, due to the damage caused by the weight of the bra straps on my shoulders. However, I had done my best. Throughout the period of my cancer treatment, I found this rankled with me more and more: I had a powerful feeling that, despite everybody’s best efforts, the system had somehow let me down. After all, we are continually told of the importance of early detection, yet, despite everything, my tumour had obviously had plenty of time to become established…

As I undressed one warm evening in late April I noticed that there was a really appreciable impression of the seaming of my bra on an area of my lower left breast. The area seemed swollen, as if lymphatic flow had been impeded: as if that clear fluid that travels round our bodies and is part of our means of fighting infection had somehow got dammed up in my breast. I told myself that the day had been hot and everything would look better in the morning. It did. Better, but not right. The skin appeared thicker there when pinched too, and try as I might, I could not make the skin of the right breast appear the same. I waited about a week. This was not going to resolve. I made an appointment to see the doctor.
In common with most General Practice clinics these days, at mine there was usually a long waiting list to see the doctor on whose list you were registered, but it was possible to be seen by the duty doctor in the practice as an ‘emergency’ within a day or two. That was the option I selected and I saw, late and tired one evening, a very experienced male doctor who had been with the practice for years. It had obviously been a very long day for him. I could see the weariness in his face as I launched into my ‘I’m sorry if I’m bothering you for nothing, but…’ routine. I think he truly thought I was. He was very kind, examined my breasts, pronounced that the states of right and left were pretty similar as far as he could see, agreed that they were large and difficult to examine and told me, to my immense relief, that he thought I had nothing to worry about. I went home so happy!
The euphoria was short-lived. Soon I was showing the area of concern to one of my closest female friends, who happens to be a nurse and midwife and has seen a lot of breasts in her time. She pronounced the breast definitely oedematous, swollen with fluid. I knew she would. I knew it was. This was just not right and it wasn’t going away. I had to do something.
About three weeks after the doctor had given me the all clear I contacted the Breast Care Clinic. I made an appointment for a consultation myself, and this was only possible because I was already registered as a patient there due to my regular mammograms. I was not due to be seen by them until the following November, but the appointment was brought forward at my request because I felt I had noted significant changes. I had last been examined the previous November, and this is interesting because, as I understand it, the cancer must have been present at that time, yet it had not shown on the mammogram and I had been given an all clear for the next twelve months. Now, five months later, I was sure that I was detecting something alarming that the medics had so far missed.
It is important at this point to state that I was in a very fortunate position here. Most women would not have had access to the clinic as it is necessary to be referred there by a GP. Since I was already registered I did not need a re-referral, but remember that the GP I had seen had not thought it necessary to take the matter any further. I do not doubt his good faith or his healing intentions, but I am so glad that I was able to seek further help for myself and I did not have to wait until November.
I was seen at the end of the first week of June. On that very first visit a consultant with a heart of gold, who whirls around the hospital abrading the floors with his shoe leather, mobilised everyone in his power on my behalf and achieved a mammogram and an ultrasound scan for me, both without appointment, a normally impossible feat. Both were inconclusive, but he felt that there was a problem to be solved and made an appointment for me to see the head man in the team the following week. In fact, I owe an awful lot to the kind doctor who, I think, had given up part of his lunch hour to do my ultrasound scan. At some point during that week, as I understand it, he held a magnifying glass over the x-ray film from the mammogram and identified calcium deposits. The kind consultant, when informed of these findings, rang my husband and suggested that I should have a biopsy at my next appointment in order to look more closely at these, rather than seeing his chief.
So it was that one week after the first appointment I turned up for minor surgery. Right from the start, a phrase had to be used that I learned to hate, because I have heard it so often and in so many contexts since all this began. ‘Normally we…but in your case…’ The problem was always the size of my breasts. The quest for samples of the calcium deposits was described as searching for a needle in a haystack. I was really very fortunate, however, because our local breast unit is one of the best in the country, and the level of treatment offered to ladies in my position is often very much a lottery. I know that, since that first consultation, I have had the very best that those who worked on my case could offer and this is largely due to the dedication of the staff, though up-to-date equipment is a very positive bonus.
My left breast was clamped between plates as for a mammogram and I realised that, once again, I was to be exposed to x-rays in order for the t