PART 4:

KAYE’S LIFE… THE POWERFUL STORY OF A BREAST CANCER SURVIVOR

Two symmetrical blue stitches, like fishing nylon, hold me together and a neat clean, mound has replaced my breast. I feel bruised’

Over the next few weeks The Society is publishing the true story of a woman who went to hell and back because of breast cancer. This is Kaye Howarth’s story in her own words. Thank you for wanting to share with us and the world Kaye.

Biography … Bald Bird Surviving Breast Cancer

Part 5 Next Week

23.12.99

I’m in an electrical bed. I can hear the rain beating on the windows. Have I  looked at my scars,two symmetrical, blue stitches like fishing nylon hold me together, and a neat clean, mound has replaced my breast, and I feel bruised.

I have no nipple. My armpit is numb. But im alive!!  Tubes drain my back, and my newly constructed breast. I remember now being wheeled to theatre. I fall asleep.

I remember waking in the night, shouting, Morphine is injected, I sleep again.

Breakfast, painkillers, Nurses give me a bed bath, what angels! I didn’t feel humiliated as I thought I might, just mildly self-conscious. Now sitting on the commode was a different thing! But needs must. I feel weak and wobbly.

Visitors pop in to see me, Anne from the Children’s Centre, Also Jill.

Dave comes in soaked; he tells me that our central heating has packed in at home, we guess at the odds of resurrecting a plumber on Christmas Eve, Dave rushes off, forever the optimist for the hunt. God, he looks knackered

Pip pokes her head round the door we have a laugh together, she goes. 

Mum and kids arrive mid-afternoon…I fall asleep, unaware that the day has blended into night. I wake up alone

Dear God, if you can hear me, I promise that from now on I will lead an exemplarity life, if only you will let me live to see my children grown, please I will give back *tenfold, pleaseee……I fall asleep.

Crappy night’s sleep, full of nightmares. Dream a blackbird is flying at me, gets caught in my hair….I can’t pull it out. Wake up bolt upright, screaming, or so I think. A Nurse injects me in the thigh, sleep, peaceful full heavy sleep.

24.12.99 Dear Diary

I have a visitor, Mr Grahams Surgeon assistant, plus a nurse. Show him new boob. He examines drains; three tubes that come from m wound two in front one behind. I think I must look like an Octopus. All are working well; I wish I could have a bath, feel sweaty, tired, and grumpy. However, wish the staff a Merry Christmas, and could they think Mr Graham for my wonderfully constructed new boob. They say they will.

Christmas day! 8.00am.

In the midst of this conversation two lovely bouquets and a large teddy with a balloon attached appears around the curtain, this is from Dave’s cousin Joanne and family, from Merseyside.

Emotion suddenly hits me; from all the weeks before seeming to burst out of me I cry.

I have a new friend! the cleaner, I am the only patient on the ward, all other patients have been discharged, we chat about this and that she then carries on with her multitudes of duties before her, with a cheery goodbye she continues forth. The nurses are lovely and join me on their tea breaks.

Pippa pops in and goes. I wonder in my mind has the Cancer gone, has the cancer gone, Bert do you miss me, I sure as hell don’t miss you.

Dave comes in frozen to bits. We have a long cuddle.

25.12.99 Dear Diary

Christmas Day, I have had a bath! Oh bliss.

 Go with new roommate Diane, who came in the middle of the night (Suspected heat attack) to Holy Communion. Meet the Vicar who I regularly see in passing on Hardy Ward where I work, he smiles a hello. Judy from occupational Therapy is playing the piano. Now it feels like Christmas -sings Amazing Grace, I feel like I’ve been given mine

Waiting for me are Dave, Ems and George, they look shattered, open pressies.

From George a candle with silver stars.

Ems a gorgeous angel in a beautiful card. Children are restless, uncomfortable in their surroundings, ask Dave to take them home, I feel really pissed off as really want them to stay longer. Now I feel sorry for myself, down .Dave tells me chin up,  I feel like telling him to piss off, it’s not him laying in this sodden bed is it, he can go out into the fresh air and escape. I can’t, then I feel guilty, he’s looking after my children, working and is worried sick, god im a selfish cow. Selfish cow snuggles down and goes to sleep. I sleep. I wake and my mum is with me, im so pleased to see her it hurts.

26.12.99

Excellent night’s sleep. Felt low yesterday. Lorraine and Alison the Staff Nurses invite me into the staff room, for mince pies, and coffee ,bless um, things like that make such a difference. I then get shown a side room, that has a t.v and a bed in,

I can use that if I want to.

9.00am.Ward round. Bare all. Dr agrees one drain clear; this can now be taken out.

Oh what joy, hope it doesn’t hurt too much I’m such a coward where pain is concerned.

I’m given a Paracetamol,(I know this is a Placebo effect!) in preparation for drain removal. Dave is here phew! Hand holder, gas and air on offer.

Half an hour later, inside ward I lay down, quivering slightly. Deep breathes says Elaine Nurse, I do, and the strangest sensation follows as the plastic tube slides from under my skin and back muscle out of my body. Wow I feel slightly dizzy, and scuttle off back to my ward as soon as the procedure is done

Two tubes to go before freedom.  Dave and I go to the TV room, other patients and guests turn and look at me, I carry the bulbs that the tubes drain into in a material handbag, I hope they think I’ve got my knitting needles in there.

 I say a bubbly hello.

They seem to all relax.

27.12.00

Good night’s sleep. My heart does beating somersaults as my Grandparents, Aunty Steff and my mum also walk through after them. Never underestimate the power

Of good that a family visit does.

Chat for an hour, then I’m suddenly very tired. Mum sees this, and whisks everyone

Home. Hugs all round first though.

I feel restless now everyone’s gone and can’t settle even though I am tired. I get up slowly and cautiously minding my tubes, pick up my handbag wander down the ward, and come across leaflets by the ward door. The leaflets are on Breast cancer.

Feel depressed, on my beating this Bastard disease. Stand and talk to the passing nurses. To bed now, do really feel physically tired. Write diary first.

Nite. Nite. Write again tomorrow.

3.00am.

Get woken up by an elderly lady being brought in, lady in her 60s.Comes in to have her abdomen drained. Ovarian Cancer she tells me positively. She’s just come back from seeing her daughter in Australia. Sleep.

Ward round.

Drs Says I can now have other drains out. Have first drain out, this is draining my front, my reconstructed breast, it slides out easily, the second pulls a bit, but all is fine.

Guess what the Dr then tells me……! YEP, I CAN BLOODY WELL GO HOME, I CAN GO HOME, ICAN GO HOME, HOME, HOME, HOME! BLOODY HELL HOME!

Mum pops in with Gran and Grandad, and Steff, looks thoroughly worried when I tell her I can go home. Mum worries that I’m not worried, I get cross and tell her I’m so ready to go, mum still feels it’s too early.

Looking back of course, I now see the overwhelming responsibility that mum must have felt, worried that she might not be able to cope with looking after me and my whole household. My Grandparents have rented the holiday house in my street, they say they will help.

Doctor comes round, explains follow up treatment, possibility of Chemo, stitches 

Out after tenth day, that will be New Year’s Day then, The Millennium, and the year 2000!

Please I say, one day won’t make any difference, could we do it for a day after, he laughs following my drift.02.01.2000 is agreed upon for stitch removal. I can go home tomorrow. Dave pops in 8.30pmish, I tell him I can go home tomorrow, to celebrate we go for a walk around the hospital, we look at my photo with the other staff members celebrating the opening of the new wing. Dave points to Pippa’s photo and says she’s gorgeous. There’s me just had my tit off and he’s ogling someone else, a word to the wise this really isn’t a good move, I storm off. Dave runs after me; I can certainly shift when I’m pissed off. Dave says he didn’t mean it like that, being female, I store this for back up material, but forgive him, just about.

  D-Day I’m going home!  

Go home today. Crappy night’s sleep last night, late night admission of a lady wearing an oxygen mask…poor love rattled and wheezed all night.

12.15pm Surprise visitors for me! Bett and Norman Dave’s parents arrive. I am having my lunch they say they’ll come back in an hour. They are helping Dave with some house renovations, Bett has done our ironing…apparently, we nearly have central heating now. Bett and Norman leave after an hour, I sit and chat with other patient’s relatives, one of the nurses brings in her new fella, we laugh, and he goes shy.

Teatime Dave at last arrives to take me home, I’ve been packed since 10.00am this morning. We give my flowers to remaining patients, and fresh flowers and card to nurses. This seems such a small gesture for all the hard work, and dedication they put into their work.

Feel like ive been let out of prison, fresh cold air hits me, I feel rather shaky on the old pins. Luckily Dave has parked close, wheelchair not needed. I sit through the journey home, feeling relieved that part of my treatment is over. I can’t wait to see Ems and George. I will make Sharon and Steve’s New Year Party after all! 

Arrive home, to squeals of joy from my babies, we hug in the hallway, eventually they let me go, I go through the hallway upstairs.

I feel disorientated slightly, put things in bedroom, mum has brought a whole new fresh white cotton linen set for our bed, it is gorgeous. I feel tears in my eyes but push them back.   Mum comes over from across the street, gives me a gentle hug trying not to squash my rebuild, ran and Granddad also, with Aunty Steff.

 Jesus I’ve missed my kids.

Once I’m settled my visiting family say there off but will be back again in the morning.

Go to bed early; find it difficult to get comfy, now I’m not in my super-duper electric bed. I wriggle and huff and puff, then hubby makes me a triangle out of my pillows. He nods off, I stare at the ceiling.


 29.12.00

Where my back muscle used to be (Now part of my breast) fluid begins to fill. This is really uncomfortable. Go to hospital. Jan Breast care Nurse drains with a syringe.    Ah bliss comfortable once more.

At home watching television I’m suddenly aware that every programme has women with bulging breasts, Nipples jutting out, juggling in my face taunting me. I storm off to bed. Dave follows.

I grizzle pathetically, I’m not feminine anymore, I’m not who you married, I’ve lost my sexual appeal, confidence in my appearance. Dave dives off downstairs and brings back with him our wedding photograph. Dave tells me I am the same woman in that photo, I have not changed in his eyes…. I try and understand what he’s saying.

But you see, laying in this bed is a totally different person, physically, mentally, and spiritually…. totally to that woman in the wedding photo that Dave is looking into the eyes of.

 Dave spookily reads my thoughts, and cuddles me gently” Well get through this, us the kids, I love you.”

He kisses my forehead and then gets up to re hang our photo in the living room downstairs.

ISBN:9798662933149

#cancerwomen #cancer #survivor #canceruk #inspirational #powerwomen #wife #family #love #caring #hope

Published
Categorized as Media

By Leigh Banks

I am a journalist, writer and broadcaster ... lately I've been concentrating on music, I spent many years as a music critic and a travel writer ... I gave up my last editorship a while ago and started concentrating on my blog. I was also asked to join AirTV International as a co host of a new show called Postcard ...

Leave a comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Exit mobile version