So much love...

by Hilla Duka

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Since I found out about the breast cancer, and how it spread through my body, I'm astounded at the amount of love, thoughtfulness and caring that has come my way. It's not even been two months since I received the shocking news, but I can honestly say I don't think I've ever felt so... cared about, I guess the best word is. So much of it is coming from my friends at work, which I think is truly amazing. Most people have colleagues, and a few of them they like well enough to form friendships with. I think this is especially true for Sweden, where friendships are formed in school or at least when you're young and single. At (almost) 35, and through other past events, I've lost most of, if not all, my friends from school, and the friends I made when younger I have mostly lost touch with. I don't mind, as it's part of life - you go through stuff, some people are there for you, others will back away. That's how you learn who truly matters to you. Enough to say that my "colleagues" from work are not mere co-workers, they're friends, true friends, who worry, send positive thoughts, encouraging gifts or lovely thoughtful cards that make me laugh and give me a moments respite from this new reality. 

 

In a support group for breast cancer patients (yes, I am refusing to use the word "victims" - I will not be a victim) I was shocked to read a thread on how to deal with losing your family and friends in this battle. One woman describing how her children refused contact with her anymore, and others reporting similar situations, friends who no longer get in touch, don't want to meet up, the feeling of loneliness added to the battle against the cancer. How fortunate I am in the midst of all this not to have to go through that! It's true, old friends who I thought might reach out have not, but they are not anyone I'm close to, and I don't miss them for it. It's true, my entire family on my mothers side have remained silent, but on the other hand other family members have come forward to offer sympathy, sending positive thoughts my way. Most of all, my family and friends have been there for me. My lovely friends from work who will come over with puppies for me to cuddle with, or a bottle of wine to share on my balcony when I'm too weak to go out, even starting a fundraising campaign to send me and the kids on a dream holiday and give us all a break from this tormenting reality we're now living with. The father of my children, who upon hearing the devastating news asked me to marry him. My amazing brother, who dropped everything to be there for me, to support me and help me so that I would not have to go through this without him. Who when I had to shave my head, shaved his own in support. My parents, who've not seen or spoken to each other in twelve years, burying the hatchet and making peace so that they can both be here for me and the kids. In these regards, I'm so very fortunate, and thankful for it. 

 

Today is day four after the second chemo, day three - five are I think the worse, and I do feel quite weak and tired, but am not in pain really. This time it's easier for me to accept that these days are not good days, because I know that they will pass and I will have more energy soon. The first treatment, I was reluctant to admit how weak I was, thinking it would not go over so quickly and that I had to fight more to stay strong and energetic. I see a breast cancer therapist, who helps me understand the mental aspects of receiving news like these, and how I can deal with them not to let them overtake my entire life but still find joy and happiness, and not be irreverent of life by thinking harmful thoughts or let the thoughts of death and dying consume me completely. This helps a lot. I can wake up in the morning, and be grateful for this day, even if it is one of those days when I can't do much or don't feel too well. I know that there will be laughter and cuddles and happiness even in this day, and I can be thankful for it. I still wonder "Why me???", but I also know the answer - life is a game of roulette. It could be me, it could be anyone. 

 

One question I get quite frequently, is how could it have gone so far before I found out? I'll try to answer that one as best I can. The type of breast cancer I have is called lobular breast cancer, and is the hardest to detect. Rather than growing as a lump on one side of the breast, It grows directly under the nipple, and not as a clear, hard lump, but as a softer, more weirdly shaped jellyfish of sorts. It wasn't until it reached a size of about 5 cm (though measuring it is tricky since it's not round), that I could tell there was a real difference in size compared to the other one. Even then, as I googled and tried to make sense of it, it seemed most information discarded the idea that it would be cancerous. And it took me some time to accept that it might be, and get help. I think I was in denial for about a month. I knew something was wrong, as I was so short of breath, tired, bones aching, but as I went for checkups and doctors appointments, they would claim one thing after another, asthma, some sort of viral pneumonia, or just prescribe coughing medicines. Had they taken a proper blood test, as indeed the last doctor did, they would have found the cancer. For about four months I went to different doctors, going through this routine, but in all honesty, if they would have found it four months earlier, it would probably still have been stage four. My doctor believes I've had it for one to three years, without knowing, and given the fact that I have no record of early breast cancer in my family, I had no reason to check it earlier. Also, lobular breast cancer symptoms are not covered in the self check info you find online or at the doctor's office. This is why I think of it as roulette - it's just a series of unfortunate circumstances that's lead to this...

 

I also got some questions as to what a port-a-cath looks like, so here's a quite unflattering picture of me showing my port-a-cath. The round thing is where they insert the needle, and the small tube is what transports the drugs into my blood stream. Genius!

Another question I get a lot, is why I'm being so open about this. I think for most people who know me well, it's obvious. I am very open as a person. I also don't believe it's my fault that this has happened to me, so I don't feel weighed down by guilt. And if there's a small chance that reading my ramblings would help someone else who goes through something similar, that would also make it worth it. And, lastly, it might make a difference for my kids to read one day, when they're older. So there you go. 


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Older comments

Martin L 2014-07-21

Tänker på dig och er Hilla!!

Adam C 2014-07-21

Inspiring, moving and beautifully written.

Heather 2014-07-21

HIlla, you're an inspiration!xxx

Heidi 2014-07-21

For everyone who is wondering where to find the fundraising page we have set up to send Hilla's family on a holiday, please visit http://www.gofundme.com/buiv6k Please be generous and sharing is caring! Thanks!!!!

Fia 2014-07-21

Hilla, you are one of the strongest women I've ever met. You are an inspiration and I'm proud to call you my friend! I love you and miss you so much and can't wait to see you in August! <3

Marie 2014-07-21

❤️️❤️️❤️️❤️️❤️️❤️️❤️️

Ulrika 2014-07-21

Jag tror att det som hänt dig förändrat oss alla, till det bättre. Åtminstone jag tänker mycket på att vara tacksam för de små sakerna i livet. Tack.