Waiting rooms

Over the last five odd months, I've spent a good deal of time in waiting rooms at various doctors' offices and hospitals. They're interesting places. I always feel a sense of limbo when sitting around waiting. I have nowhere else to be and am at the mercy of the doctor's busy schedule. So I have to sit and wait. Sometimes it's a good thing. A long wait can mean I can sneak in a few more pages of the book I'm reading. Or it can be agonising - which was the case for my first few appointments after I found the lump. They lasted an eternity. And of course I was too nervous to read or sew or doing anything except sit and worry. Now I feel like a seasoned pro and waiting room waits are just part of the territory. Mind you, that doesn't make me brave - it just means I haven't had to wait for potentially icky results in a while!

But my heart does still go 'thump' when my name is called. And I feel a huge wave of relief once the appointment is over. I like it even better when I don't have to have a follow up appointment.

I learnt early on that it is very important to have someone with you for all the appointments you have to have. Mainly so they can sit with you in the waiting room and calm your nervous leg shake or hold your sweaty hand, and you theirs. It helps you. But it also helps your family and friends. They want to help you - and since they don't have that highly coveted magic wand that can make cancer drop off the face of the Earth - their next best option is to keep you company in waiting rooms.

Waiting rooms have definitely taught me at least one thing: how to be a patient patient.

Cupcakes and chemo

Today is my birthday. I turn the grand old age of 29. And guess what I got to do today? That's right, Wednesday is chemo day.

When I first saw on my treatment schedule that I had to go to chemo on my birthday, my heart fell. For the last 10 years, I haven't even worked on my birthday! I always take annual leave and spend the day doing fun things. Over the years I've been to the movies, art galleries, day spas, delicious lunches, the beach and even to Africa. So, the thought of going to chemo on this day of celebration got me down. I considered asking my oncologist to move my session to the day before or day after, but Nik and I were fearful of rocking the boat. Cancer is a big thing and we didn't want to mess with it.

Resigned to the fact that I'd be going on my weekly excursion to the oncology day centre instead of somewhere fun, I decided to make the most of it. So I made a big batch of chocolate cupcakes and took them to chemo. I made enough so every nurse, patient and their partner (most people take a friend, family member or partner with them to sit with during treatment) could have a tasty cupcake for morning tea.

When I arrived the beautiful nurses wished me happy birthday. Then they gave me a pretty pink rose (very fitting for a breast cancer patient), then they hooked me up to my chemo drugs as nicely as they could! They are wonderful people, kind, caring and they always bring sunshine to my day.

When it was time for morning tea, I got out of my chair (it's like a big, cosy recliner) and Nik pushed my drip machine around behind me (the medicine is administered through an IV) and I wandered around the room offering everyone a birthday cupcake. The other patients sung me 'Happy Birthday'. It was nice. People smiled and laughed and got to eat cake (and that's always a good thing!).

Although spending the day at chemo wasn't my ideal birthday plan, it's what I had to work with. And you know what, it was actually fun. It just goes to show that you can take happiness anywhere.

Words of encouragement

Kind words and notions of encouragement are easy to say, but often go unspoken. People are more likely to say negative things than they are positive and I don't know why - nice things are just as simple to say.

Since being diagnosed, I've been lucky enough to encounter lots of kindess - both gestures and words. And it has definitely helped. It can turn a dark mood into a bright one, a frown into a smile, and remind you that there is beauty in the world.

This week I've experienced lots of kind words that didn't have to be said, but were, and that made a big difference to my week.

When I was at the gym doing a series of squats, an instructor walked past me and said, "Great technique! Keep it up!" Those simple words made me smile and even though my legs were burning, I did 'keep it up'.

A friend at work in response to my first blog post said to me, "I don't think your muscle has turned to mush, I just think it is focused on your heart and mind for a while." That one made me cry - good tears though.

I interviewed a prominent female Australian journalist and wrote a profile on her for the magazine I work for. Upon reading the article she said to me, "You're talented." This made my heart soar, as like most people, I am my own worst critic.

These were all easy things to say - each taking less than 10 seconds to verbalise. But the impact has stayed with me much longer and still, days later, brings a smile to my face and heart.

Hat Hair

So I don't have hair at the moment and therefore can't possibly have hat hair. In fact, it has been a few months since I've had any hair at all. But it won't be long before I do. I realised this when I registered for the Mother's Day Classic. I bought a hat to wear on the day and thought to myself, "Hey! By then my hair will be growing back!"

I'm pretty curious about how my hair will grow. It used to be dark brown, long and quite curly. I've been told that it will probably grow back even curlier. I've also never had short hair before - unless you count when I was a baby. A lot of people have asked if I was scared about losing my hair. I wasn't really. I figured that I'd prefer to be bald than have cancer. And besides - it's just hair - it will grow back. Plus, hair falling out meant that the chemo drugs were working, and that's a good thing! When my hair started to fall out, Nik, my husband and I, shaved it off. It was actually quite liberating. You wouldn't believe how much time it saves me in the shower!

For the Mother's Day Classic I've started a team, Striding with Sim. If you want to join the team, look for it when you register. You don't need to walk with me to be a part of it though. Or, if you're not entering the race, you can always sponsor me and let me do the walking for you. Visit http://s.eventarc.com/sponsor/view/90/simone-mcclenaughan to do so.

See you next time.

Pleased to meet you.

Hi there.

Thanks for dropping by and visiting my blog for the 2010 Mother's Day Classic.

I'm Simone McClenaughan - but my friends call me Sim. I'm 28 years old. I'm a writer for a women's weight loss, health and fitness magazine. And I have breast cancer. Yes, young, I know. But breast cancer doesn't discriminate. I was diagnosed with it in October 2009 - which is Breast Cancer Awareness Month. Within a week I had a masectomy, and since then have been undergoing treatment. My treatment will continue for about another year.

When I was diagnosed, I vowed that in 2010 and forever more, I will enter every single breast cancer charity race in my hometown of Sydney to help raise funds and awareness about the disease. I also wanted something to look forward to and achieve. I've already done one event in January, and the Mother's Day Classic is the next one I have my sights firmly set upon.

I used to be pretty active, exercising daily, doing all sorts of things such as walking, mountain biking, hiking, yoga and pilates. But since starting chemotherapy in November, that came to a grinding halt. The first batch of chemo was pretty toxic and made me quite weak. It was a struggle to even stroll round the block.

I'm halfway through my second batch of chemo and it's far easier to handle. So much so I am ready to exercise again. But after a couple months of no activity, all my muscles turned to mush, so I have to start from scratch. It's a weird feeling, because I've always been active and had good strength and fitness levels. To get me on my way, I've joined a gym and had a weights program written to help restore my strength. I've just finished my first week, going three times to work out on the weight machines. I was so sore after my first session! But it felt amazing. I felt empowered and like I was finally getting back to my old self. I'm also back walking, doing that three times a week too. I've managed to keep a good pace and go a little further each time. The hardest thing for me is being patient with myself and understanding that it will take awhile until I am back to the old Sim.

I guess that's just another lesson I have to learn in this little challenge called cancer.