B's Blog | Breast Cancer Campaign

B's Last Blog

B has been a fabulous blogger for Breast Cancer Campaign and we would just like to thank her for sharing her stories and allowing us an insight into her daily life and treatment over the past year.

Read B's final blog as she discusses chemo, chips and champagne...


Half Term, Hair, Herceptin and Hill Walks

My hair is ‘aving a laugh! After the last wash it looked like this! Which is not good.

As the week progressed it began to do this, which isn’t exactly better.

I don’t think anyone except perhaps a very charming three year old could carry this look off. Milly who is home for a reading week, ( no obvious reading being done, I have to say) said I looked like something from a Dr Seuss book. Is she thinking of the Grinch?

Fear and Clothing

My friend D (who had his cancer diagnosis about six months before I had mine) sent me a email with an article attached. It was by Lucy Atkins and appeared in the Observer on October 7th and it definitely rang true for me.


It’s about the whole 'what happens after treatment has finished' thing, and the fact that a lot of us feel very low and also very anxious. What we all dread of course is that 'the cancer will come back'.

The Demon of Lost Things

The demon of Lost Things was amongst us last week. There’s been non-stop angst and exasperated looking for things going on in our house.

Nothing has been made easier by the fact that Steve (that very rare thing, a nice builder bloke who arrives when he says he will, works tirelessly and charges a reasonable amount) is make do and mending all our rotten window frames (a job Ed and I have stuck our fingers in our ears and pretended wasn’t desperately urgent for at least 5 years which is why they’re all SO terrible. )

Weird Top Syndrome

Don't you just love a menopausal symptom?

Weird Top Syndrome

Yesterday afternoon I went for a nice Autumnal walk round our local cemetery with my friend, L.

I was about to write that she’s another breast cancer survivor when I was pulled up short… that is what we both are (hopefully) but I hadn’t actually used that term before about myself and it sounds rather dramatic.

Inevitably as we walked our jackets yo-yoed on and off as hot flushes, afternoon sunshine and a sharp wind meant we were either boiling or freezing... so entertaining!

Don’t you all just love a hot flush?

End of holiday angst

The main problem about going away is of course you have to come back!

It was a very nice three weeks away, I hadn't quite realised how much I needed to just potter about under a blue sky until I got there and felt like whooping with relief.

A quick blogette on the fascinating subject of Dressings.

Today in the hospital dressings clinic the gorgeous smiley nurse tells me I’m “very funny” when I describe my battle with the cling film dressing and my horrified surprise at the size and shape of the new nipple.

Don’t feel very funny at all… just a bit zonked.

I’ve just hared around at home putting out one last wash on the line before dashing to have my hair cut by a neighbour (once Vidal Sassoon trained, apparently).

Olympic nipples and nonsensical hair

Two weeks on from the op I am driving to Whitstable to stay at my friend MM’s cosy house overlooking the sea.

It’s the Olympic opening ceremony tonight and the brief is to get ourselves there on the sofa with plates of fish and chips and a glass of wine as the whole caboodle kicks off at 9pm. Feel quite excited!

Alien boobs

I am sitting typing this feeling rather as though two quietly omnipresent aliens are strapped to my chest.

Over a week on from the plastic surgery op and I'm healing well (I think) and feeling sort of normal.

At first the newly lifted, slightly reduced breast (i.e. the non-cancerous one) was an incredible sight, like something from the Early Learning Centre it was entertainingly bright yellow all over with deep blue bruising at the sides, topped off by a ludicrously bright red jelly baby like nipple.

Slugs, bras and the next operation

What a surprise it’s raining!

I have never seen so many slugs in my back garden, are they making a bid for world domination? Is this the summer of the slug? A line of severely depressed washing is hanging limply out there midst the downpour. Don't quite know what possessed me to hang it outside... maybe it was that brief half hour of muggy sunshine at midday before I dashed off to school.


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