APA Group Biggest Morning Tea

Bec M's - A series of Unfortunate Events

Please support the ‘Biggest Morning Tea’ for all of those who are suffering, have suffered and will suffer in future from this sh#t of a disease. The Cancer Council provides support, access to a myriad of services and advice to both patients and family going through the many varieties of cancers that can afflict us and provide funding on better ways to identify and treat the disease and to improve survival rates.

 HOW CANCER OCCUPIES 3 SPOTS IN MY TOP 10 ON MY SH%T LIST!

This is not my first Rodeo.

I have been through the revolving door of breast cancer THREE times over the last 7 years. It has been a constant shadow and silent partner in my life over this time. You start to question yourself what have I done in former life to deserve THIS?!?

Over this time it has tested and taken away my strength – both mental and physical; diminished my capacity to participate in work, taken away my enjoyment in activities and hobbies that I loved doing outside of work; left me with scars and changes to my body I am yet to get used to; and to acknowledge that I am fallible. The last one is the hardest to bear. To know you cannot do all the things you were able to do before treatment is a major frustration and makes you feel like you have aged 30 years before your time.

Your life focus revolves around hospitals, appointments, specialists, scans, blood being taken out and chemo intravenously being put in. Then your other life; work, friends, family and self are organised around these. There are days it becomes too much and the thought of getting out of bed does not seem an option but if I am going to get my morning coffee I am going to have to get up and get dressed for the day!! You could even say that coffee has played a big part in my recovery over time. During these periods, the ability to exercise has been marked by the following stages:

stage 1 – walking the length of the corridor,

stage 2 – walking to the letter box,

stage 3 – walking to the end of the street to get coffee from corner coffee shop (short walk coffee) and finally,

stage 4 – walking to my regular coffee shop a number of blocks away (long walk coffee)

It is best to describe the past seven years as experiencing a ride on the world’s most extreme rollercoaster – with crazy and unexpected twists and turns, ups and downs and loops that make you lose your lunch! So to share my ride, which I am yet to get off, it can be best described:

DOWNS

Months recovering from surgery and walking around like a bent pretzel.

Losing my waist length hair.

Losing my short hair.

Loss of taste, loss of appetite, nausea and extreme fatigue during chemo treatment’

Chemo brain – yes it is a thing. You forget people’s names and your vocabulary is replaced with ‘thingamajigs’, ‘whats-a-names’ and ‘doovalackeys’ for all the basic items you have forgotten the names of.

Going to hospital continuously

Annual scans and check-ups and the anxiety it now causes

Annual mammograms

Being told your cancer has returned; TWICE

TWIST, TURNS & LOOPS

Treatment during COVID – very lonely and isolating. Access to supplementary treatment such as physiotherapy was not available due to lockdown. Recovery felt to take forever.

Car accident a week before my last treatment over 2 years ago. Fortunately, where my car was hit avoided major injury and trauma to myself but gave me a couple of  week’s anxiety that the accident may have affected my reconstruction from just 6 months previously. Following up with my surgeon was the only way to get solace and to find out that all was OK. This accident, however, has provided me the most perfect story that can be summed up in the following sentence. My car was written off on Halloween by a Nun. Delicious!

Third breast cancer diagnosis

Marriage breakdown

UPS

– and the silver linings are:

Getting rid of my COVID belly as part of my surgery – a tummy tuck if you will

I am liking my short hair. I think I will keep it

Losing weight – would not recommend chemo as a means to an end

No stress – you are too tired to even remember what to be stressed about

Chemo brain – ready explanation why you have forgotten things.

Oncology staff, Breast Care Nurses, surgeons, doctors, radiologists, pharmacists, pathology staff, occupational therapists, nurses and support staff that have and are still taking care of me.

Annual scans – finding my last two tumours early

Nothing good to say about mammograms

Being told that they have gotten everything out, scans show nothing and that you are now ‘clear’

Generosity of action and spirit by others that have reached out had provided help – even when I have not asked for it!

As you can see it has not been all doom and gloom as there have been moments that I have found respite and gratitude. I have had the support from my colleagues and team members – and big thank you to Mo Kalbasi over the last handful of years – and my other colleagues for their kindness, consideration and support as well as APA for the flexibility granted to still remain engaged working within my capacity. I have the support of a network of friends where mysterious packages of food have landed on my doorstep, been transported to hospital when I have not felt the best, texted my neighbour to drop off the odd coffee or groceries when I have been really unwell and the overall offering of best wishes and delivery of positive energy to make me feel better.

I still have a little way to go and have broken the back of the worst of it. I am looking forward to the day that my normal no longer revolves around my treatment and I can reclaim my bodily strength, toss away the fatigue, find more joy and less frustration in life. Reclaim my independence and my general mental health as well. STUFF CANCER!!

Cancer a Scary Word - By Suzi

Cancer is a scary word, we hear about people having it, hope they get better and move on with our lives however once it hits home, the word cancer is no longer associated with Scary but replaced with hate and there are more emotions involved and your thinking changes. You want with your whole being for people to get better and you reach out and do what you can to support those fighting the dreaded thing. This is why these morning teas are important and raising funds to kick Cancer to the curb is vital.

Cancer hit home for me when my Brother in law David was diagnosed with having Lynch syndrome, when a person has Lynch Syndrome it means that a gene involved in repairing specific DNA errors does not work properly, this leads to DNA damage building up in certain cells of the body and if this damage is not repaired the cells can start to grow and divide in an uncontrollable way, that can lead to cancer. People with Lynch Syndrome are 80% more susceptible to getting cancer than the average person. Lynch Syndrome also runs through the family, my nephews have also been diagnosed with Lynch Syndrome and have to ensure they test themselves for the rest of their lives. (One of my nephews already has his large intestine removed and he is young).

David’s first round of cancer was in his bowels many years ago, this resulted in half of his bowels being removed. Every Chemo treatment David had he would colour his hair a different colour, that was his way of coping with it and ensuring his family knew he didn’t want cancer bringing him  and his family down.  

The Chemo treatment made David weak which resulted in him being in hospital quite often. (David was in hospital quite often with back operations, heart and cancer operations). The Drs thought he had lung cancer because of lesions on a scan, but his body was too weak for the Drs to test, further scans showed the lesions had gone and David was told he had a weak heart. Not only does cancer take a toll on health of a person and their family, it also takes a toll on mental health and financial wellbeing.

Late August 2021 we received the devastating news that my dad was diagnosed with Late stage Lymphoma cancer, the Drs advised us that survival rate was 50-60% This hit hard but we remained upbeat and were determined to beat this as a family, while coping with being locked up during Covid. When my dad was in hospital prior to being diagnosed with the cancer he would stir up the nurses, he even ended up with a brand new bed because he complained about the old one he was in (he confessed to writing his name underneath it), the staff loved him there.

 My dad had one Chemo treatment which hit his body hard, My dad lost his appetite, would only have a nibble of food, couldn’t drink a lot, had to be helped by my nephew living there at the time to go to the toilet or shower. (We couldn’t assist due to covid restrictions) he became weak and always cold.

While he was in hospital we weren’t allowed to visit due to Covid, he became disoriented and confused, he would pull out his port, catheter  anything that annoyed him when the nurses weren’t there (my dad once pulled out his teeth with Pliers when he couldn’t wait for the dentist). I rang my dad daily, they would be quick calls, sometimes he didn’t even want to speak to me (being disoriented and sometimes in pain) he promised me he was eating but the nurses would tell me differently.

 My dad’s cancer journey (that we were aware of) was only for a little over a month, he had complication after complication, his heart wasn’t pumping properly and organs failed, my brother received a call from the Drs for us to prepare for goodbyes. My brother facetimed my sister and I with the dilemma of how do we tell our mother. I advised we do it together, it was the hardest thing that we had to do. We called the rest of the family and everyone, nieces and nephews, great grandchildren, we couldn’t care less of covid restrictions, we rallied around my mum and eachother.

 The Northern hospital were great with us during this time, they allowed us to be with my dad in ICU (as there were no beds in palliative care) but restricted visitors.  There were 16 of us and only 4 people could go, my brother and mum had gone the previous night (as they only allowed for 2 people) and got to speak to him. My brother gave up his spot the next day when we thought this is it, myself, my mum and my sister were going with one spot left? With 7 grandchildren that wanted to say their goodbyes they made the most adult decision that I will never forget, they put their names in a hat and they pulled out a name, my niece came along.

 We facetimed the rest of the family on that visit and they all said their goodbyes, but my dad gave us more days.  The next day they moved him into a ward and we were told due to covid only 6 people could visit and it had to be the same 6 people, with 16 of us in total, we asked for another way. The hospital allowed 6 people a day but it could be any 6. So we rotated and got to say our goodbyes in person, the last time I had spoken to my dad was on the phone prior to him going into Palliative care.

 My Dad passed away 5^th October 2021 in the early hours of the morning, the morning after I saw him. He died alone (which still kills us all)  The Drs allowed only 4 of us to say our goodbyes at the morgue in the hospital, my mum, brother, my sister and myself, one of the hardest things I have ever had to do.

 My dad’s passing was sudden for all of us, just a little over a month since diagnosed.

The joy of Wigs - by Marye Candice

Support APA Group - Biggest Morning Tea

Join me at my Biggest Morning Tea or donate online to help me reach my fundraising goal! Together, we can help Cancer Council raise much needed funds that go towards vital cancer research, support services, prevention programs, and advocacy.

There will be a Bake-off competition held at the Thomastown Office on the day - please see on-site flyers for more details or contact me on marye.candice@apa.com.au