The past week has been a whirlwind of appointments and blood-tests and phone calls and insurance letters and decisions and reality. I should definitely start by saying that nothing has gone badly, and everything seems to be nicely on track!

Firstly, I am incredibly pleased at the thought of having this IVF (or as I’ve been calling it Cancer Treatment: Phase One!) done and dusted. I estimate I’ve injected myself in the stomach over 30 times, and with all the hormones and side-effects I’ve been experiencing I feel awfully sorry for my body, especially considering the other upcoming plans we have in store for it! Obviously I feel very lucky that we were able to take this step in safe-guarding our future family, but it has been a huge commitment and has cost an eye-watering amount of money. Tomorrow morning I will be going in for the egg retrieval, and I just hope it’s all been worth it! My fertility Doctor had to give me additional meds to keep my estrogen level at a normal rate (due to the fact that my cancer feeds on that hormone) and that has made things a little trickier than he would have liked. But he’s hoping we’ll still be seeing good results, so I’m trusting in his optimism and authority.

One of the things that I had been most apprehensive about was having my chest port fitted, and that took place yesterday afternoon. I wasn’t able to eat or drink anything until after the procedure, and I found this quite challenging due to the dizzy spells I’ve been getting from the IVF drugs. Unfortunately, the whole endeavour was a bit of an unpleasant one. I had been mentally preparing myself for this procedure for days, and had arrived there quite early. After Bret and I had sat in the waiting room for thirty minutes, I received a phone call telling me that they were rescheduling my appointment to the next day. My stomach twisted as I began overhearing other people in the waiting room receiving the very same call. We were very confused however, as the receptionist said he knew nothing about this and that he couldn’t get hold of anyone to confirm as everyone was on their lunch break. It took another half an hour of waiting (during which time I had worked myself into quite a state) before a nurse casually called me back for the procedure. As you might imagine at this point I really did feel very overwhelmed, and when I was administered the sedatives that had been promised to induce a “dream-like state” I instead became alarmingly more anxious! I was given an additional 2 doses and I still didn’t relax or fall asleep. I remarked to the Doctor that I must be the only person to ever talk through an entire operation in which a tube is being inserted into one’s jugular! I must say that the whole medical staff were absolutely wonderful, and treated me with real kindness and care. Although I had tried to be positive about the procedure, in the end I found it quite upsetting. The funny thing about having an early stage cancer, is that you don’t necessarily feel ill. And so to me at least, these procedures and treatments feel as if I am being turned into a sick person. Some sort of voluntary transformation into a cancer patient even though I feel fine. I keep wanting to tell the Doctors that there must be a mistake, and I must not have cancer… isn’t it obvious that there’s nothing wrong with me?!

The other item on the agenda that I got upset about this week was hair loss. I had decided very early on that I wanted to give Cold Caps a try. These caps essentially work by freezing your hair follicles during your chemo treatment and restricting the amount of drugs that get to your scalp. Many patients report very positive results! What I didn’t realise was just how much of an undertaking this would be. Obviously I knew it wouldn’t be pleasant to be willingly freezing your own scalp, but I did not know that you have to wear the caps before and for several hours after each chemo treatment! And that certain caps require you to change them over every 25 minutes! I found myself really obsessing over this decision and agonising over the pros and cons of each company (there are many here in the States and they’re all slightly different). I think in all the uncertainty and lack of choice I’ve experienced recently, this really felt like something I could take control over. It didn’t help that due to the upcoming holiday and the need to start my chemo very soon, I felt a lot of pressure to choose quickly. In the end, I don’t think any of the things I was getting worried about really matter, and so I made a choice and feel much better for doing so.

The real positive for this week is the help I have received from the Simms/Mann Centre at UCLA. They provide free support and integrative care with a focus on oncology patients’ wellbeing. I met with a councillor who was most helpful in talking through some of my concerns, and Bret and I also met with a nutritionist who talked us through the cancer-diet! One of the main things we learned is that I’ll need to avoid certain foods that spike my estrogen, for example soy and flax seeds. This centre survives entirely on donations and grants, and I can’t put into words how helpful and supportive they’ve already been to Bret and I. They hold lectures, support groups, art therapy classes and one-on-one counselling, and I definitely plan on using their services as much as I can. My approach to this whole shit-show is to accept any help that is offered to me!

All that is left to say is that I am scheduled to start my first chemo on Thursday, December 27th. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t apprehensive, but all the waiting around can be so suffocating. It feels like so much effort just to get to the beginning of the battle! For now, I am taking comfort in ticking off each item on my treatment plan, and being as kind to myself as is humanly possible.

With much love,

Emma and Bret xxx