Date

Joanne Wallen

Breast Cancer Ribbon
26
Jan

Different ways of handling it — emotional space

posted by:
Joanne Wallen
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Yesterday I found out that a close friend of mine has just been diagnosed with breast cancer. She is still in the sort of shock that I realise I didn’t really go through when I got my diagnosis two months ago. There are a couple of reasons for that. Firstly, I spotted something wrong myself (a change in the shape of my left breast) and I instigated having a mammogram. So when I got a recall I was horrified but not shocked. Secondly, as my surgeon Robert Carpenter said to me on our first meeting, I have been through it before.

Yes, I do remember walking around in a daze for the first couple of days after my Hodgkins’ Disease diagnosis at 17. I was just about to start my A Levels. I remember sitting in my first French exam thinking “what’s the point? I won’t be around to get the results.” Fortunately, that feeling was very short-lived and never returned. What was I thinking of? Of course I’d be around. Now, where was the next party to go to?

Thirty-four years later, I skipped the first train of thought and went straight on to the “where is the next party bit. I had my initial consultation with Mr Carpenter on a Friday evening. Did I still want to go down to Ramsgate that weekend? Martin asked. “You bet”, I replied. There were grandchildren to see and a party to go to. “We must carry on as usual until we can’t,” I told him.

My friend, who doesn’t want to be named, has never been through it before. She is very shocked and upset. I would not want to trivialise her shock at being told she has breast cancer. But relative to me, she is a lucky lady. Hers was caught extremely early through a routine mammogram. The doctor told her she was one of their “scan successes” because what the scan picked up was so small she was unlikely to have noticed anything herself for at least a year. I, sadly, was one of the scan failures. I had been on annual mammograms on a higher risk list and mine was not spotted.

I actually shed some tears when I thought about that. I should have been like my friend, caught early. But then I decided that due to mine almost certainly being caused by my previous radiotherapy, the outcome might not have been all that different whenever they detected mine.

The other reason why I’m sure my friend has been less able to cope with her bad news than I was, is that she didn’t have any emotional space left. She has been dangerously stressed for the past year with her job, which is putting ridiculous demands on her, and with coping with elderly and infirm parents. I’ve been worried that she was pushing herself too close to the edge for some time, so the cancer diagnosis must have seemed like the final straw! I, by contrast, was, at the point of diagnosis, in a very good place. Things were going well at work and at home. My parents are elderly but still quite independent. I was physically fit and healthy. I had the emotional space to cope with this.

Naturally, I phoned my friend and had a long chat. Part of her obviously knows that she’s lucky hers has been caught so early. She is scheduled to have a lumpectomy and probably two or three weeks of radiotherapy after that. But I urged her to take this as a warning. No one can take so much sustained stress without consequences. Her job, while on paper a rewarding one, is clearly not serving or rewarding her in any way now. The demands being made of her are impossible to fulfil and she is getting the opposite of thanks for all her efforts. She really, seriously needs to use this nasty shock as a positive opportunity to reevaluate. I hope she will.

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24
Jan

A perfect weekend

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Joanne Wallen
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Saturday morning was a first since I started chemo — I got up early!! We had booked the car in for a service at 10am down in Cliftonville at our yacht club friend Bob’s garage, St George’s.

I’d thought about going down on Friday but realised that would gain us only an hour on Saturday morning and we decided to set off by 8.30 on Saturday. This may not sound early, but I’m never a morning person at the best of times and I’ve definitely been slow to get going after chemo. Still, this was 8 days after treatment and I was feeling pretty normal. The beauty of having no hair is that it makes showering and getting ready so much quicker!!

We got to the garage just before 10. We’d planned to take a wander into Margate while the car was being serviced and to see our grandchildren Josh and Fay once we’d got the car back. But we hadn’t realised that the car was due for a big service and would take at least three hours. It was cool and windy outside and we had a long day ahead of us with a 60th birthday party in the evening. It was going to be a long day for anyone, but I have had to learn quickly to be a bit kinder to myself and not overdo it. So I did something I’m not good at. I asked a favour.

I suggested to Martin that we phone his son Matthew, my stepson, who lives nearby, to see if he could pick us up and take us back to his place. It was quite an imposition, landing on him and Claire without any warning, but I really needed somewhere warm and comfortable to spend the next three hours. Mat was washing his car (his pride and joy, at least until daughter Olivia came along). But he didn’t hesitate. Just let him wash the suds off and he’d be round.

Claire and three year old Olivia we’re out when we got there at Olivia’s ballet class so granddad had the TV to himself to watch Saturday Kitchen. We both enjoy the show but I have an ulterior motive in encouraging Martin to watch it. It gives him lots of tips ands ideas which he then uses when cooking my meals!!

An hour or so later and Olivia was back from dancing in her little pink ballet dress and wrap around cardi, hair up in a bun. Her cousin Ethan, celebrating his fifth birthday that day, was with her to keep him from under dad’s feet while his birthday party was arranged. Claire, our lovely daughter-in-law, was unphased at coming home and finding us sitting in her living room watching TV. She made us tea and a sandwich for lunch while Martin whipped the children up into a giggling frenzy.

Given that last week, Olivia was so keen for me to remove my headscarf and not put it back on, I took it off before she arrived. She took a few seconds to adjust when she first walked in but was fine with my bald head. At some point though, she did look at me intently and ask: “When is your hair going to grow up again?” Does she know something I don’t?

At around 1.30 we decided to walk back to the garage. I was really glad to have had this relaxing and lovely family time round at Mat and Claire’s. We had an invigorating walk along the cliff top to the garage. On the way we bumped into Eve, our eldest granddaughter who turned 13 on Thursday. She was walking home from dancing and was going to get ready to have seven friends round for a sleepover, all of whom would somehow be sleeping, or rather chatting, in her small bedroom that night! She looked so grown up. You just cant help wondering where those 13 years went?

We collected the car and went round to get Eve’s brotherJosh and sister Fay. The plan was for Martin to take Josh to the local rugby club, Thanet Wanderers, to watch some of the afternoon’s match and to have a kick around. Martin played rugby most of his life. He played in the army and for various teams including Exeter and Thanet Wanderers. Josh, whose dad Russell had him in Chelsea kit from the day he was born and who has played football since he could walk, did not get chosen for his new secondary school’s football team. To dad, Russell’s disgust, he got chosen for the rugby team!

I dropped them off at the rugby club and headed into Broadstairs with Fay. She wanted to buy a CD with the money she’d saved. Naturally, at six years old she knows all about pop music — what she likes and what she doesn’t — and apart from the fact that she got a CD player for Christmas, her reason for wanting to buy this, or these, CDs, was she was fed up having to ask her big sister Eve to borrow hers and invariably being refused!

I was hoping to get away with going only to Broadstairs. There aren’t many shops there but I ws praying one would have CDs. The alternative was struggling through the traffic to Westwood Cross. As we drove through Broadstairs to the car park, I realised my only hope would be Tesco. We parked the car and Fay, who eats like a sparrow, was hungry. We set off to find some food. I headed for Morelli’s, a wonderfully retro 1950s Italian coffee bar and ice-cream cafe. We were late for lunch and they had only a few sandwiches left, but Fay’s eyes had already lighted on the chocolate cake. I know, hardly nutritional, but what are grandparents for?

It was absolute delight though, sitting looking out to sea sipping coffee with my lovely little companion next to me. The CD mission had to be put on hold. Fay had spotted the beach. “Can we go to the beach?” she asked. Why not? I thought. Luckily it was a mild afternoon and the wind had dropped. She was impatient now for me to finish my coffee. We walked onto the beach and Fay promptly sat herself down on the sand. I sat next to her. Why not?

We had no bucket and no spade, but that didn’t stop both of us building sand castles. Two other little girls, not much older than Fay, wandered over to right by us and also starting digging a hole. They were keen to chat to me. “Do you know them?” Fay asked, incredulously. I said I did not. She did not talk to them herself. She was too busy building a “city” of castles. I could not have been happier. I’ve always loved the beach and I had the perfect companion.

We must have been there an hour. I managed to pry her away only when it started to get cooler and by reminding her we still had CDs to find. We walked, or rather she ran, round to Tesco, where we’d arranged to meet up with Martin and Josh. As we arrived, I realised it was only a small Tesco Metro. Surely I’d be in trouble, there would be no CDs?

Luck was truly on my side. They must have had ten CDs. The top ten, I guess, but what would I know? They had One Direction, top on madam’s list. How many could she afford with her £20? She wanted to know. With a small contribution from granddad, she would manage three CDs. She was made up. She chose Olly Murs and a third whose name meant nothing to me and therefore escapes me. What a result! And what a lovely afternoon. We took them into a nearby seafront pub for a drink and some crisps and bumped into old friends Jude and Roger, who we’ve known since we lived on our boat in St Katherine’s in the mid eighties and who now live down there. We had a catch up with them, shared crisps with the children and headed back to the car.

By the time we’d dropped them off and driven back to Ramsgate, we had about an hour until it was time to get ready to go out. I had a little lie down on the settee in the saloon, just to recharge my batteries. Then we were off again. Up to the yacht club for Frank Martin’s 60th.

Once again, I had an unbelievably warm welcome from everyone. They were all so kind and seemed genuinely pleased to see me looking well and out and about.

And out and about I certainly was. The great duo 2Bro was playing at the party. We’d had them for Martin’s 60th last year and when they play, you just have to get up and dance. And dance we did. I felt great. As fit as I would have done before starting treatment. And very invigorated by the dancing. It was a great evening and we finally left at about 12.30. Perfect end to a perfect day.

For once, we had no plans or commitments for Sunday morning. We got up at 9.30, went up for a shower, went for a pleasant walk, and then I went up to the Galley cafe for breakfast, which I enjoyed outside in the sunshine, while Martin went to Waitrose to shop for dinner.

We left Ramsgate at midday and headed home. I like driving back in the daylight on Sunday. It gives me a chance to read at least the main section of the Sunday Times. Sadly, most of the rest of it goes unread the rest of the week! As it was early, I decided to go round to see my parents. I could see Martin was tired so offered to drop him home first.

Mum and dad were, not surprisingly, really pleased to see me and I spent a pleasant couple of hours with them. Once home, my perfect weekend was topped off with a lovely dinner and watching Call the Midwife followed by Birdsong on TV. Two excellent programmes to round off my excellent weekend!

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23
Jan

Difficulties to face? Ask the universe

posted by:
Joanne Wallen
and viewed 33 times

There was a time in my late twenties and early thirties when I got quite into “New Age” thinking; getting in touch with the universe, om.

I haven’t totally dismissed it all and at the moment I can certainly say that I must in some way be putting out my needs to the universe and the universe is answering those needs.

When I first met my breast surgeon, Robert Carpenter, two months ago, it was for my diagnosis. On that occasion, before any tests and confirmation that it was indeed cancer, he had already said words like “cosmetic” and “reconstruction”. But he knew I was not ready to take all that in and he knew that I had a whole lot of stuff to get through and cope with before I even started to think about surgery and its implications.

Now that I’m approaching the half-way mark in my chemo treatment, I have been able to start thinking about the next step, which will almost certainly be double mastectomy and, hopefully, reconstruction. This is a big deal. And I do know big deals when I see them. I had a hysterectomy at 44 having tried and failed to have children. Luckily I was ready for it and did not suffer any of the emotional trauma you might expect to be associated with it. I think it gave me closure. No children, move on (happily to my stepchildren and lovely grandchildren).

Having internal organs removed is one thing. Trust me, I’m the expert. I have no spleen, no thyroid and no womb or ovaries. But when I walk into a room, no one would ever know that. The mastectomy is something else again. Anyone who knows me knows I have a well-endowed bust. It is not something you can miss, particularly on my otherwise small frame. Those who have never had a proper bra fitting, take note. I wear a 30 FF. 30, because I have a very small back. FF, because, well you see what I mean.

I have had a love/hate relationship with this part of my anatomy. When I was in my late teens and early twenties, the fashion was all unisex. The flat chest was celebrated. I was born at the wrong time. I missed the voluptuous 1950s and by the 1990s and beyond, when girls started flaunting what they had and cosmetically augmenting what they didn’t, I was no longer young enough to do the same.

But having them removed is not going to be easy. I could not quite get my head round what it would be like. Which is when the universe stepped in and sent someone to help.

Saturday evening. I’d just arrived at the yacht club in Ramsgate for a 60th birthday do and was out in the hallway having taken my coat off. A couple I knew on what I would call a nodding acquaintance basis arrived. He sails in the races we take part in but not even in our class. They are often in the club and attend many of the functions and parties. But we have barely exchanged more than a hello. So I was quite surprised but very touched when he touched my arm and told me how sorry he was to hear my news. He had got my phone number and been intending to phone me, he said. Really? And then I realised why. She has recently been through the same thing, with a single mastectomy last year and recent reconstruction.

What happened next though was amazing. Looking stunning in her party attire and without any awkwardness or embarrassment, she invited me to pop upstairs into the ladies and have a look at her reconstruction. She had been able to see the results of a friend’s reconstruction before deciding to have her own, she said, and she was offering me the same opportunity. Surgery these days is amazing. Although recent, her scars were so neat, and the whole experience was greatly reassuring. Thank you so much! I will not name you but you know who you are. And thank you universe!! At just the time when I was starting to face such a big issue, someone I could not even have imagined turned up with the most amazingly generous gift, reassurance.

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21
Jan

The fog lifts and the wigs arrive!!

posted by:
Joanne Wallen
and viewed 37 times

Before I had my first treatment, the nurse said he’d heard the post-chemo period was a bit like a hangover — you feel a bit grotty for two or three days and the you wake up one morning and realise it’s gone. I’d say that’s quite accurate, although the timing varies and also, I have to admit I’ve had worse hangovers in my time.

This week, following my third chemo session on Friday 13th (yes, lucky for some; they put me in pod 13 too!!) I was not bad at all at the weekend, tired on Monday and Tuesday and I wouldn’t say I had that post-hangover moment until Friday. But when it comes, you know it. You suddenly feel clear of drugs and as normal as you’re going to get at this time. I was determined to make the most of this feeling, particularly by going to the gym.

So I got blogging early, started work and made sure I would be ready to leave the house by 12. At 9.30, a parcel arrived via Royal Mail. At 10.20, another arrived, via City Link. They were duplicates, both containing two wigs. Having tried on wigs at Trendco in Notting Hill a couple of weeks ago, I ordered two online, knowing I could send them back if I, or more likely
Martin, didn’t like them.

They were due to arrive last Monday. By Wednesday, when I’d been in touch with Trendco and tracked the order online, City Link was claiming to have tried to deliver twice and left me a card. I felt compelled to tweet, asking them whether lying was all part of their service?

Not Trendco’s fault and we all know that when Royal Mail drops a card through your door saying they tried to deliver they rarely even have the parcel with them ((Lou caught her postman red handed recently). However, it was up to Trendco to sort out. They duly arranged both for City Link to deliver before 10.30am on Friday and for Royal Mail special delivery to bring another lot by 1pm, in case the phantom City Link driver failed to materialise yet again.

So by 10.30 I had four wigs in my possession. I duly opened the first two and tried them on. Oh dear. Not sure what I was thinking in the shop, but I really didn’t like the now! My sister-in-law Mary phoned. Wear one for a while and give yourself a chance to get used to it, she advised. I persevered for about ten minutes before giving up. It looked like a wig and felt like a wig. If I wasn’t happy, Martin certainly wouldn’t be. As I write, I have not yet even had time to show him, but I’m pretty sure that after all the hassle of getting them, sending all four back will be easier.

I had a quick shower and threw my gym clothes on. Took the DLR to the gym and arrived in time to take my time getting ready for class. I’d decided I could cope with a 30 minute abs class at 12.45 followed by 45 minutes of Pilates, and I was right — no problem. While getting ready, a woman came in and started changing next to me. She was huffing and puffing and cursed a key that she couldn’t turn in the locker and some other equally trivial disaster. I’m sure I’ve had times when I’ve done the same, got wound up over nothing. I wanted to point out to her that there were far more serious problems that could befall her. But instead I simply removed my headscarf and walked around bald for a while before putting on the little “yoga hat” I bought at Trendco. I don’t know if she noticed, but I hope it might have made her stop and think.

Two classes made me feel much better but were sufficient. Other than popping into House of Fraser on the way to the station to check out the scarves and hats (didn’t buy any!!), I headed straight home. I was ready for some lunch and a sit down. Did some work, popped down to the local for an hour, had dinner, watched Source Code on DVD (not really worth the effort) and had a early night in preparation for a fairly early start today.

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20
Jan

Some down time, and the we’re off again.

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Joanne Wallen
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After a tired couple of days at the start of the week, I would probably have pushed myself out on Wednesday, to yoga and who knows what else? That would not necessarily have been a bad thing. But in the event, we woke up to a grey, rainy morning and Martin turned over and went back to sleep.

At around 8.30 I got up and made tea, and at that time he was talking about going out to work at some point. That is the beauty of his work. Being a black cab driver it’s up to him when he works and when he does not. He turned over again. I might as well do the same, I thought. Neither of us had slept well for days, well at least since my last chemo, so a lie-in was not a bad idea. But as it turned out, this was no ordinary lie-in. This was clearly the day when the past eight weeks (is that all it’s been since my first visit to Mr Robert Carpenter and his initial diagnosis?) caught up with Martin.

After snoozing for a while I was awake. I got my array of electronic devices — iPad, iPhone and netbook, and began emailing, blogging and working. But I was still sitting in bed and next to me, Martin slept and slept some more. At some point he made us egg sandwiches, which we ate in bed. But it was not until 1.30 pm that we finally emerged from our pit. I can’t remember ever having stayed in bed for so long, but during the course of the morning it became obvious that this was what we both really needed. I’m not good at doing nothing and staying in when on my own. But this was the perfect opportunity to slow down.

We ventured out only for Martin to get the cab cleaned and to get some shopping for dinner. Our only nod to the outside world came with a quick early-evening drink in the Grapes. While there I decided to go naked. No, not the full Monty, just my head. I’d gone in wearing a wooly hat. Not as glamorous as the scarves I’ve been getting used to, but more practical for popping out to the shops. But it felt both odd and hot to sit in a pub with it on. I just wasn’t sure about the etiquette of revealing my bald head. Was it shocking? Was it making a statement?

Martin didn’t see there was a problem. And then Joanne, the pub’s bar manager, joined the conversation. “Don’t even think about other people,” she suggested. “When you’re ready, you can do what you want to do.” I was ready. I took my hat off. What a relief! Unusually, there was no one in that we knew. So I don’t think anyone noticed at all. And I certainly didn’t care either way. It was definitely liberating.

So Wednesday was a battery recharge day.

Yesterday, I had tickets to see the musical “Crazy for You”, with friends Gilly and Sally. Despite the entreaties of my sister and mum, I was not initially disposed to the idea of staying in all day in order to not deplete my energy before the evening. I wanted to go to the gym for a yoga class. But in my heart of hearts I knew that would be foolish. The timing didn’t work. Would I come  home after the gym and go back out again? Would I go into the office in the afternoon? I realised either option would be too much for me.

I got myself into a bit of a ratty state. I was trying to tidy up one of my wardrobes, and get my brain into gear, and do some work and, and. Eventually I settled down. I had a shower, threw some clothes on and then the laptop work had promised me to ease working from home arrived. I unpacked it and spent a while on the phone getting help setting it up. But I was soon up and running and able to settle down to work.

Even with having stayed at home, I still felt I needed a quick lie down before heading out to the theatre. But it was literally a 15-minute rest that I needed. I took the river boat up to Embankment and met Gilly and Sally in Fernandez and Wells, the cafe at Somerset House where Gilly and I lunched the other week.

We had a pleasant hour chatting and eating Tapas before heading across the road to the Novello Theatre. Thanks to Lastminute.com we had great seats in the stalls for just £30. I’d seen Crazy for You years ago and knew what to expect, but this production was excellent. It’s an old-fashioned, shamelessly entertaining musical, a bit of whimsy. But the choreography was excellent, the music is Gershwin and how can you not have rhythm when you listen to it? And the cast was a bundle of energy from start to finish. All in all a really fun evening. I took a cab home and was in by 10.45, refreshed, energised and thinking that musicals should be available on the NHS. They are very therapeutic!

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19
Jan

Eve becomes a teenager!!

posted by:
Joanne Wallen
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From the first time we set eyes on that tiny babe, we knew
We would love that child forever, no matter how she grew
A perfect little bundle, so pretty and fall of charm
She fell asleep contentedly on her granddad’s arm
The bond was set, we both were hooked and totally beguiled
Our lives would be transformed by the birth of our first grandchild
She had such a sunny nature, always had a smile
From a very early age, she developed her own style
Before she could talk, you’d always hear her chatter
Before she could walk, you’d hear the pitter patter
As she crawled around our flat, along the wooden floor
This certainly was a child that you could not ignore
She had me round her finger before she’d yet turned two
She’d tell me where to sit and tell me what to do
We’d play lots of games that her little mind invented
Just being with little Eve made you feel so contended
A little girl who loved to dance, had an early sense of fashion
Matching clothes and pretty shoes were an early passion
And it didn’t take her long to start giving me advice
On what I should wear with what and whether I looked nice
Every minute that we’ve spent with her has always been a joy
She’s beautiful and loving, and yet she’s very coy
She doesn’t know how lovely she is, which is why we want to say
That she just gets even lovelier, every single day
But suddenly that little babe’s a little girl no more
Today she turns a page, opens a brand new door
It was thirteen years ago that Eve came into the world
And the story of her life began to be unfurled
Now she is a teenager, it’s hard to believe
On her way to adulthood, but still our lovely Eve
Happy birthday to you darling, may this be the start
Of another chapter in your life in which we’ll play our part
Have fun, have a ball, hope you never have a care
But know that when you need us we will always be there!

Nanny Jo and Granddad
19th January 2012

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18
Jan

Normal life, but not as we know it

posted by:
Joanne Wallen
and viewed 35 times

It’s been an odd couple of days really. I was still a bit tired yesterday despite a decent night’s sleep but I was determined to go to the gym for Pilates, which I knew would make me feel better in a number of ways.

I had, to be fair, a pretty early start to the day. Martin was up with the lark, mainly because his foot was hurting and he thought there was no point staying in bed. So by not much after 7am I was, albeit still in bed, writing a poem for our eldest granddaughter, Eve, who becomes a teenager today, Thursday 19th. Having written her a couple of poems in the past I was of course delighted when she asked me some months ago if I’d write one for her 13th birthday. Once started, the poem flowed. I followed that with my blog post and by 9am I was checking work emails and starting a story.

I aimed to leave the house by 11.30 to allow me time to walk to the gym. I did wonder whether the walk plus the gym might be pushing it, but I have walked to work (the same distance as the gym) every day for the past couple of years until my diagnosis and my body misses the exercise and the fresh air.

I set off at around 11.40, initially thinking I would do an abs class at 12.45, but soon saw sense and decided that Pilates at 1.15 would be more than enough for me. The walk was fine, but I did not quite have my full energy levels. I stopped for my usual takeaway cappuccino en route and just had time to pop into a shop in St Katharine’s Dock for a couple of gifts I needed to get. I also felt the need to pick up a sandwich from a kiosk by the Tower of London and to eat part of it on the way. I mention this only because in the pre-chemo days i would not normally eat immediately before exercising but now, I am very aware of needing to keep my energy levels up. I arrived at the gym at 1, a little weary but glad to have made the effort.

It was definitely the right decision. The minute you start breathing properly in Pilates or yoga, you feel so much better for it. I had no problems with the class. As I’ve said before, you don’t suddenly become unable to do the exercises you have done comfortably for years. But I was not in a mood to rush my shower or getting changed after the class. Once out of the gym I knew I was ready to go home for a rest. I had a brief pit-stop at Pret-a-manger for a miso soup and sat outside briefly while I took a few sips. I may have been feeling tired, but I looked very colourful in my raspberry pink coat, purple scarf and lilac headscarf. A young girl from Pret, sweeping up outside, remarked how well I looked. She had no idea that I wasn’t!

I took the DLR home and once in, actually thought I might get into bed for an hour. We’d agreed to pop across the river later on to see our friends Sue and Tommy before they head off for a month’s holiday to not just Australia but South Africa too. So I thought a rest would be in order. But once in I found that sitting down and writing up my article for work was a better tonic. I can prevaricate about writing like the next person when I don’t have everything I need in place, but once I’m going I always find writing energising. By the time I filed my piece just before 6pm I was feeling better than I had all day and ready to pop out.

We had only to catch the fast river boat from Canary Wharf across to Greenland pier, a three-minute crossing, but we missed one boat by about two minutes. A quick stop in the Spanish bar Camino’s kept us warm until the next boat arrived. From the other side it is less than 10 minutes’ walk to Sue and Tommy’s London base, and their local, the Ship and Whale, where we met and dined.

It was great to see them before they went and was good to pop over to their side of the river for a change. But I can’t say I was fully myself. At 8.20 I looked at the timetable for the return boat and slightly panicked when I realised we’d miss the 8.34 and would have to wait until 9.34. This is very uncharacteristic. But my one glass of wine wasn’t going down well and I had had enough. I felt I was clock watching until it was time to head for the boat. In the event, we left a little earlier than necessary and had about 15 minutes to wait on the pier. It turned out to be a real treat. We were alone on the pier and the view of Canary Wharf from there was spectacular, almost surreal. Standing close together, me in my big hat and scarf, staring quietly out across the water at east London’s mini Manhattan, we had a very close, very tender moment.

Once on the boat there was barely time to pay for a ticket before landing at Canary Wharf. A six or seven minute walk and we were safely back home. I was fine and by most people’s standards had had a successful and busy day. It was perhaps even a “normal” day. But just not quite as I would normally know it.

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17
Jan

Well, it was “Blue Monday” …..

posted by:
Joanne Wallen
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According to the “experts”, yesterday, Monday 16th January was officially “Blue Monday”, the most depressing day of the year. Something to do with distance from Christmas, debt levels, etc. I was feeling anything but depressed. The sun was shining, I’d had a lovely weekend. But I did have a tired day. Maybe I’d overdone things at the weekend, but I don’t really think so.

I didn’t sleep all that well on Saturday night and ended up sitting up and reading for an hour at around 5am. On Sunday evening I had a couple of brandies in the Grapes, and then took some Night Nurse before I went to bed. I’m pretty sure it says to avoid alcohol, so it’s perhaps not surprising that I felt quite groggy all morning and tired for much of the day.

I can’t complain. I’ve done really well so far. I think it’s the steroids that I have to take for the first three days after chemo that throw me out. I spent much of the morning sat on the bed writing my blog and doing some work. Then it was time to shake myself off, have a shower (a much quicker enterprise without all the hair to wash and dry!!), and get dressed.

Put some washing on, opened the garden door to let in the gorgeous winter sunshine, and finally got myself out for a walk. I ventured down to the river and up to cafe Brera at Canary Riverside, where I bought a cappuccino and actually sat outside, enjoying the air and the sunshine and reading my book. I’ve already discovered that it’s important to push yourself out, if only for a while, however tired you are feeling. It’s always beneficial. This certainly was.

I sat until the heat of the sun started to wane and I could feel the cold starting to seep through my many layers of clothing. I wandered home, feeling, if not on top form, certainly much better.

Refreshed, I was ready to make some calls for work, which, now that Christmas really is over, proved quite productive. I managed to file a story and have some more material for today too, all of which made me feel better.

After yet another tasty and healthy meal, lovingly prepared as always by my husband and wonderful chef Martin (who has been an absolute trooper from the moment we first suspected something was wrong), we sat and watched the latest Pirates of the Caribbean. Why? I’m not really sure. We’ve signed up for a trial of Lovefilm, and Martin quite likes that sort of thing. Watchable nonsense, but as it required no brain power, it did the job last night. In bed by ten,read for a while, laid off the Nytol and Night Nurse. I did wake up at around 2am and stayed awake a while but was determined not to get up. I also realised that the thing to do was NOT to look at the clock. So I got a not too bad night’s sleep and am hopefully raring to go today.

Have already this morning written a poem for our eldest grandchild, Eve, who turns 13 on Thursday! She actually asked me to do one months ago, and of course I couldn’t possibly have refused!

I’m intending to get to gym today. Some abs and Pilates, methinks! Bye bye Blue Monday!

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16
Jan

A lovely weekend

posted by:
Joanne Wallen
and viewed 37 times

Having asked to rearrange my chemo sessions from Fridays to Tuesdays so as to have the maximum chance to be ok for the weekends, I was in fact well enough after this Friday’s third session to go down to Ramsgate.

We did not have to rush out of bed and had a leisurely morning, but left home around midday in glorious sunshine and had an easy run down to the coast. We stopped off, as is our wont, at the Belle Vue in Pegwell, an excellent pub, particularly since its new landlords took over and added some great personal touches. The best thing about it is the wonderful garden overlooking Pegwell Bay. We were able to sit out, right by the water and enjoy a drink in the sunshine. What a bonus for mid January!

Then it was off to the boat to get our gear on board. We have had many kind offers of accommodation in Ramsgate from friends concerned about me staying on the boat in the cold. On New Year’s day we took Sue and Tommy up on their offer. But there’s nothing like being in your own space and for me, Magnum is my second home, so I persuaded Martin that there was no reason that we shouldn’t stay on board as we usually would. We have electricity on board and with an oil-filled radiator and a small fan heater the boat is probably warmer than most houses.

Having got the bags on board we headed up to the yacht club, where we were greeted warmly by the few locals already in there. Most people seem to know about my condition and are pleased to see me still in circulation. Our friend Stuart came to meet us and while Martin and Stu had a couple of beers I stuck to the soft stuff and spent most of the time writing my blog.

To prepare for the evening and the surprise 50th birthday party taking place at the club we went back for a rest at around 4.30, via the chip shop — well what’s a visit to the seaside without a portion of chips?

The boat was warm and cosy. I got into bed for a short rest, but not a sleep, to recharge my batteries, but this is something I occasionally do on a Saturday anyway and not really peculiar to me going through chemo at the moment. We then got ready to go out and arrived at the club around 7.30. It was already full of party guests, many of whom we did not know, but we found our group of friends and had a pleasant evening. We did not know the birthday girl well but are more familiar with her husband. I think I work out regularly and keep fit but this lady is scarily fit. It was therefore quite a surprise to learn that she’d had breast cancer 14 years ago. She looks fantastic now and that was very reassuring. Her mother has also had it and was also at the party.

We did not want to overdo it and left at the sensible hour of 10.45. Some of our friends made up for us though. Paul and Norma apparently left the party at 2am. Ouch! Much earlier than that, they had invited us round to their boat for coffee on Sunday morning. Well, we did ring at 11am but neither of their phones answered. I got a rather sheepish call back twenty minutes later. Unsurprisingly they’d been still in bed!

We took a walk around the marina and out along the harbour wall, again in brilliant sunshine. Naturally I had plenty of layers on and a scarf and hood to protect my now bald head. Among my cocktail of anti-sickness drugs to take in first few days after chemo, one is Dexamethasone, a steroid, which needs to be taken after food. So we headed for the Galley cafe, an excellent choice for breakfast and lunch. It’s a small place just under the yacht club. The lovely ladies that run it provide excellent, freshly cooked food and also do some catering for the yacht club. We sat outside in the sunshine, having persuaded Stuart, who we just happened to find huddled inside,to come out into the”cold” and join us.

Reinforced, it was time to head over to Palm Bay to see the children and grandchildren. But not before picking up the fresh fish we’d bought the day before from Cannon’s seafood stall. Brill this week. It’s a ritual when we’re down. See what fresh fish they have on Saturday, all out of the sea within the past day and caught by the Cannon family, buy it and leave it in their fridge to pick up before we leave on Sunday. It’s always delicious and it doesn’t get fresher than that.

First stop in Palm Bay was to see grandson Josh before he went off to football. Then it was round the corner to see his sisters, Eve and Fay, at their mum’s, my stepdaughter Liz. It was the first time the children had seen me without my hair. I had a scarf on, tied as a turban. Fay, the six year-old, seemed a little uncertain. But then she’s always been scared of anyone dressed up in any sort of costume. And she has known me for her six little years of life with my long, curly hair.

Eve, who will be 13 this week and has always been my style consultant, didn’t say much at first. But when we went up to her bedroom and I broached the subject by asking her how she liked my new look, she said it was good and that I could wear different colour scarves to match each outfit. That was one of Eve’s subtle style hints!

The strangest reaction came at our next stop, from three and a half year-old Olivia. She took one look at my turban and asked why I wasn’t taking my hat off. She has overheard lots of conversations about things happening to my hair and clearly wanted to know exactly what was going on. I’d already told her that I was taking some medicine that would make me better but make my hair fall out for a while. So I took the scarf off. She did not seem fazed at all by my bald head. But she absolutely did not want me to put the scarf back on. In the end I had to leave the house bare-headed and put the scarf back on, for warmth purposes, once we were in the car.

Martin told Olivia to feel my head. He said it was a bit prickly, like his beard. She did not want to. But later, while I was bending down putting her socks on after granddad had pulled them off in play, she tentatively touched my head and giggled.

We finally left at around 3pm, drove home and even popped into the Grapes for an hour before heading home. After a wonderful dinner of fresh brill, spinach, broccoli tops and tiny sautéed potatoes, we watched a little TV, I did a bit of admin, and then, having had a bit of a sleepless night on Saturday, it was time for an early night. A dose of Night Nurse, to try to clear up the remains of my cold and to help me sleep, did the trick. All in all, a lovely weekend and one that was barely affected by Friday’s chemo. Long may it continue!

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14
Jan

Wigs, chemo and fun

posted by:
Joanne Wallen
and viewed 31 times

Thursday afternoon was dedicated to me, me, me and my new look.

I went to see my lovely style consultant, Morag Young, for some help with hats and scarves and a refresh on style ideas. Having already done a colours consultation and then a full style session with Morag, I managed to arrive at her place in full colour and with a scarf tied as a turban, bought from a great website called Suburban Turban. Morag was duly impressed.

We had a lovely afternoon, first experimenting with scarves and adding broaches and earrings, and then looking at a few new clothing style ideas. Then we went out to the wig shop, Trendco, in Notting Hill. It was a bit overwhelming to begin with, but they are all lovely in there and they agreed to fit me in for a half hour consultation with Jane, even though I hadn’t booked.

I had already decided that there was no point going for a long wig since my hair will be short for some time and it’s time for a new look. I was also advised that curly would be hard to source and would need a bespoke wig — no point for what will hopefully be only six months or so.

So I tried on a few that Jane suggested. Morag liked a very neat, short bob, but I was happier with something a little more tousled. I did not buy them at the time but have since ordered two online, which I can try at home and return if I’m not happy with them.

Morag also introduced me to shopping in charity shops. Not something I’ve ever done before, but we managed to find me two little jackets and a dress. We finished the afternoon with a coffee before I made my way across town and home. I just had to call into the Grapes to meet Martn for a quick drink. It’s becoming very popular since actor Ian Mckellan bought it three months ago with partners Sean Mathias, the theatre director and Evening Standard owner Evgeny Lebedev bought it. Having a media mogul as part owner means they’ve managed a full page spread and a smaller article in the Evening Standard this week alone and while we are used to seeing Ian around as he’s lived next door for years, visitors get a huge thrill from seeing him in the pub.

My friends Dawn and Kay happened to be in the pub so we had a good catch up, before going home and being cooked yet another lovely dinner!

Friday was my third chemo session. Lou and Bev came round at 9 and Martin took us up to Harley Street. We had time fora coffee and spot of breakfast in Starbucks before my11.15 appointment with My oncologist, Dr Alison Jones. Lou was keen to come and meet her and I thought it was a good idea as I knew it w old reassure her. Dr Jones just has such a calming and reassuring manner. She was pleased with me and with my progress. Good to know.

I had a strange giddy spell walking back down the stairs (Lou won’t use lifts). It only lasted a few seconds but it was a bit weird. I decided that the only thing for it was some retail therapy before the chemo at 1 o”clock. I’d spotted a final clearance sale at Fenn, Wright, Mason on
Marleybone High Street,and just had to Sus it out!

Six items later, well they were a total bargain!! We left just in the to get back for the chemo.

It went very well. They very apologetically put me in the smallest ‘pod’ in the place to start with, which was very cramped for two visitors plus the nurse. We managed for a while until them moved us into the largest pod in the place, which was palatial. By the end of the afternoon a doctor popped his head round and accused us of having too much fun! I guess all you cold hear all afternoon was us giggling!, an unavoidable consequence of having Lou around!

A swift drink in the Grapes again and then home for dinner and watched the first Sherlock that was on over Christmas. Very entertaining.

I said I would see how I felt today before deciding whether to come down to Ramsgate for the weekend. Suffice it to say, here I am, sitting in the yacht club, blogging.

The sun was shining the whole way down and we Had a drink in the garden of the Belle Vue in Pegwell on the way through. It was glorious out there, overlooking the sea. A real treat for
January. Put our gear on Magnum and switched the heaters on full. She’ll be lovely and warm now. Think I’ll go and have a little snooze before a party up here at the club!

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