Steve Saunders

Normal is great with cancer. This week was an intentional week off work for Judy. She does need down time, but that wasn't the reason she caused it to be a week off. The reason was pursuit of brilliant normality.

We're trying to always have something booked or planned to look forward to, however far out into the future, whether far flung and exotic or simple and close to home. We cherish the shared memories that result.

Statistics are horse shit. Trying to read something into them is just a recipe for anxiety. We love that there are super smart men like Dr Rob to utilise them, but for us statistics be damned ... they don't help.

Taking cancer drugs reminds you that as with most things in life there is a balance of get and give. There is a steady flow of undesirable effects that come along with the valuable primary effect. The trade is most definitely worth it, though.

For Judy and I we most enjoy music in The Hutch. Music expresses situations, hopes, desires, sadness, gladness, anger, love, fun and frivolity. It says many things, but lately has been hard to handle.

The hero of this story is an understated and unassuming sort. Looking at Judy's first scans when this all started we could not believe our eyes. It looked like chunks had been taken out of her spine. But a little hero is helping put missing bits back.

What a cat our Matey was. Stolen by cancer, he'll always stay in our hearts. The Internet is full of cat images, videos, memes and stories, so I thought I'd throw in our cat experience too. Vale little mate.

Tumour markers are specific antigens that are shed by cancer as it grows, and both Dr Rob and Judy and I hang out for the latest test result.

With shared experience of cancer there is heartfelt empathy, there is strong camaraderie, and a desire to listen more than speak. Sometimes words fail.

Judy has been seeing Dr John for what seems like the entire time we've been married. Despite messing around with her boobs, he's an 'other man' in her life that I tolerate well.

Right from the outset, and before Judy even took any, we liked several things about this combination of drugs. After shrinking cancers with chemotherapy it was time for longer-term control again. Time for Afinitor and Aromasin.

The strength of our passion, relationship and respect has only been building over the years, and Cancer 2.0 is making us even stronger. We belong together, and we always have.

One of the constants since we discovered this spread of cancer has been lumps that have sprung up in many places around Judy's skin. These lumps are small metastasized breast cancer tumors, and they're surprisingly useful.

Judy is quite fortunate right now. She looks great. I think it obvious, and only right that Judy looks so well most of the time, as the disease is hidden inside. There are some downsides, though.

I think oncologists are very much like fire fighters. Fire fighters rarely refer to what they do with large fires as extinguishing them. Small fires are put out, but large fires always seem to be being 'controlled' instead.

Many critical parts of the body come in pairs, which is really sensible design. Two eyes, two arms ... and two kidneys. While not super obvious, kidneys are super important.

In a previous post I mentioned "spot fires" that may pop up... Of late, irritation in one of Judy's eyes inexplicably degraded to totally blurred vision.

Tamoxifen is a drug that was discovered in 1967 when Judy was just a little girl. Now I'm not calling her old, but this particular drug has been used as a formidable tool to control hormone receptor positive tumors for a span of time almost equaling the entirety of Judy's life.

The last eight weeks saw a weekly ritual of Doxorubicin chemotherapy, and blood tests every second of those weeks. Every chemo round saw a little less hair on Judy's head, but also saw a little less of a tumor marker score and an equal improvement in liver function.

When oncologists smile the whole world sighs with relief.

The long days continue, with yet more good and bad news. Judy has been in hospital being prodded and pricked and tested to understand the extent of what it is we're dealing with.

It's been a very long week of very long days for Judy and I. After 17 years with no disease detected, pain and subsequent scans have revealed extensive spread of Judy's original breast cancer.