Apologies for the lack of activity here – I have been a little on the busy side, which is great!

I’m managing to achieve a lot more of the day-to-day tasks (albeit under time-lapse conditions on occassions!), and reaching goals at work has become easier these past few weeks.

Part of the reason is most certainly that I’m feeling stronger by the day, another part is due to my negotiating tactics. I’m playing that old game of ‘what’s really important?’ and I guess learning not to be too hard on myself should things get on top of me.

Some of these skills have been highlighted in my weekly visits to the Cancer Council. It runs a support group under the guise of a ‘Healthy Active Living Program’. Every kind of expert from Occupational Therapists, to Physio’s, Social Workers, Dieticians etc. come and have a chat to the group of cancer patients. As well as having access to these professionals – it’s a great opportunity to share time and experiences with others in the same/similar boat. I’ve met some terrific, brave and lovely people. (And hope to share more about some of them in future posts).We also do a session of Tai Chi at each get-together – which I just love.

I’ve also been preparing a presentation for a special event, which occured this morning. Through a dear friend Kay Evans – I was asked be guest speaker at the Women In Tourism breakfast for October. (Breast Cancer Awareness month.) There was an amazingly positive vibe in the room which was a sea of pink! Paul and my Mum came along, as did some wonderfully supportive friends. I’m grateful for the opportunity to have shared a bit of my story with so many people from such a wide variety of industries and backgrounds, in an effort to help raise awareness. 

3 1/2 months after going on what was supposed to be two weeks leave to have that bi-lateral lumpectomy – I returned to work on a part-time basis.

For reasons I am still yet to fully understand – this has been incredibly difficult.

I guess when you think about it though, a few weeks on holiday and most people feel a little strange getting back into the swing of things. After such a long absence, the trauma my body has been through in this time and the decisions I’ve been faced with have undoubtedly changed who I am. Kate – the information hungry perfectionist both on and off the air, had taken a back seat.

Even getting ready for that first day (okay – three hour stint) in the station had my emotions scrambled. My sleeping patterns are still quite disturbed – so a less than restful night before didn’t help. I chose some clothes (baggy top and dress pants) before showering. By the time I’d dried myself I was ready to hop back into bed. After fighting that urge – I got dressed, only to break down into tears when I looked in the mirror. For a moment instead of being pleased with how far I’d come – all I could see through the clothes was a disfigured body. I think subconsciously I feared everyone else would too.

Sitting at my desk I felt like a foreigner. The constant activity, noise, flow of information etc. was daunting to say the least.

In spite of the fact that I’ve been very open about my diagnosis and treatment, there were still a number of people in the station who weren’t aware of why I’d been away for so long. An after-the-fact explanation was awkward for both sides. Several co-workers showed a genuine concern by delicately asking how I was, others were clearly unsure of what to say and a few obviously found it easier to ignore me – as if pretending I wasn’t standing right in front of them might somehow make me invisible.

I’m sure most people in a similar situation to me have found their return to work taxing both physically and emotionally.

Towards the end of the first ‘shift’ I was tiring. I found even walking from the Newsroom up to the boardroom for a meeting required so much more effort than it used to.

For now, I’ll be doing this a couple of times per week – with a decent break in between.

Sloshing.

Yes – an official term referred to in much of the literature provided by many of the Breast Cancer support services.

I’d read about it, but not really appreciated exactly what it meant.

Let me try to explain.

Imagine two round hot water bottles (only cold) in your chest. Each time you bend/lean forward, to the side or backwards – the fluid within – moves. That, is sloshing.

Some of these movements I’ve discovered, can bring on an immediate wave of nausea. It stops me in my tracks. Rather than giving into it – I try to laugh at the strangeness of the sensation.

Blessing is – it won’t continue with the permanent silicone implants.

Bring on October 19!

It’s been 3 weeks since I’ve seen Dr D and Andrea the breast care nurse. She’s happy with how the scars are healing, but comments I “still look tiny”, and there’s no way I’ll be able to “work full-time for a while yet.”

As Dr D takes a look at how things are progressing I ask if they’re “pool ready?” He says yes and I nearly jump off the bed with excitement. Yes! He’s finally given me the okay to get in the water!

At this consultation we also discuss that ongoing stabbing pain in my back and whether some physio/massage may help. Perhaps the key point of discussion though, is the next operation. We book it in for October 19, around 3 months from now. I have 3 months to get my fitness back (and build a bit more strength!) in preparation.

Dr D asks casually about what size I think I might go. We ascertain that I was a large A-cup, to a B depending on cut/style etc. He checks my records to confirm that I’ve probably ‘grown’ about a cup size. Now to me that doesn’t mean much – my ‘breasts’ are such a strange shape and have been kind of swollen for so long now – it’s hard to tell what they may finish up like. When I ask him how he tells, I’m a little taken aback by how tiny my boobs really were! (I’ve asked a few girlfriends “what do you reckon a boob would weigh?” All too often I’ve been met with “what mine, or yours?” A couple have guestimated a kilo – kilo 1/2. Proof they’re thinking of their breasts not mine!) As it turns out I now have 420mills of saline in each side. As for weight, Dr D tells me that on removal my left breast (which hadn’t been as ‘dissected‘ as the right during previous surgeries) weighed only 300 grams, so comparing that to mills – I’ve gone up around 120-ish – or say a cup size.

We decide this size, or perhaps just a bit bigger will suffice. He promises to tidy up my scars and move the implants in a bit closer too (which will require a bit more dissection closer to my sternum.) I’m glad about that. At the moment I feel like my ‘boobs’ are a couple of inches apart and positioned more under my arms than on my chest!

Back to work is the next big issue. How on earth do I fit back into the hard and fast world that is radio? How do I manage the responsibility of being the News Director and also complete an On-Air shift every day? What will be the reaction to my long absence, diagnosis, treatment, physical state? Is it this – the viewpoint of my superiors, colleagues and acquaintances that has my stomach in knots, or perhaps the question of how I will cope with stepping back into my day-to-day after months of being focused almost entirely on my health?