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 8 Next Week

Emily and George

Throughout my diagnosis I have tried to be as honest as I could be without trying to frighten Ems and George too much. Emily has a firmer understanding of what we’re going through and bless her has taken to looking after her brother to heart.

It’s difficult to keep normality going when such things as illness raises its head within a family, but I think it’s important to keep a balance.

Both Ems and George continue to go to school. However, I did phone both schools and inform them of my treatment and asked them to contact me if either child was finding it difficult to cope or was upset.

Children can be strong, and some cruel. George came home with a bruised face one day, I got out of him gently that a lad had teased him about me having no hair, so George retaliated. They had a punch up in the school yard.

I went to the school the next day and waited for said boy, after school. Drawing him aside warned the little shit- never to touch George or tease him again. I was so sodden angry; I think he saw that. Needless to say, this never happened again, as far as I’m aware.

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Something to look forward to!

Mum takes the kids swimming. Mum has membership to a hotel, where there’s a pool, with lots of rubber tubes floats, and toys.

Em’s and George have hours of fun chasing Little Nanny as they call her around the pool, having play fights with the foam tubes. When they return, frazzled but content Dave suggests as we sit having a tea, juice, he was thinking of doing a loft conversion.

 Emily is thrilled, stairs to get away from George! George could have Emily’s room. The planning begins in earnest. Dave draws the plans with Emily and George. I sit back and smile. Something for them to look forward to.

George asks if he can choose the colour for his room, he currently has red and orange his two favourite colours adorning his walls, “sure!” says Dave pulling a face at me,” As long as it’s not black Georgie!”

 George grins “Well it is my room…!” I know George is joking, hopefully.

The next day work begins on the loft. Dave needs this something to work on, Ems and George needs something to look forward to. A future.

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Third Chemo.

15.03.00

Mum again drives me to Chemo. See Jan about lump in right breast, she believes it to be hormonal. However, appointment is made for a mammogram this Thursday. Dr Dean has also examined me and agrees this. I have Chemo, Jan my Breast friend joins me, we both look like Army Recruits. Session finishes. Book next session. Mum drives me home. However, we are low on food, so we decide to stop off at Asda to stock up. I am wearing a green woolly hat today, couldn’t be arsed with” Linda”. You know I must be accepting my illness and prepared myself in some way for what would happen next. I was wondering round the veg isle looking at food I didn’t really want to eat, and then wham.

“Hi Kaye, how are you?!” Simon says. Simon is the husband of Joanne, Joanne and I had our first born children at the same hospital, ward. We became firm friends, and found we lived in the same street. Eventually I moved away from Dorchester to Portland, so we now just bump into each other as and when. But it’s always such a treat to see them.

Anyway, he carries on teasing me” Smart hat!” I take a deep breath, and say, “Haven’t you heard?”! I then calmly explain what has happened to me, about Chemo.                                   60.

He s great, and asks me questions, am I ok, is there anything I need, he says he’s sorry to hear that, me too I say. Simon gives me a big hug. I send my love to his wife, we say goodbye. Just an average conversation in a shopping Isle. Mum rests her hand on my shoulder, gently smiles, puts her arm round my shoulder and leads me on to finish shopping.

Once home I crash again, I’m knackered. Mum once again over the next five days, cooks, cares, loves. I’m knackered, and look it, my skin looks grey, I am hollow eyed, and I feel and look like a walking skeleton. I have lost lots of weight. I’m feeling low to.

Dave’s mum offers us a lifeline and invites u up to Bristol. This means my mum gets a rest, Em’s and George have a change of scene. The following weekend we go to Bristol. Feel a bit sick on the journey up, but however we get there.

I am wearing “Linda” and feel a total prat. Dave’s parents are kind, and say I look great. Ummm. Katie sits on my knee once we’ve all settled and starts to pull at my hair, it slides over, and I quickly read just, she pulls and so on the game continues, until Bett calls Katie off. I’m now feeling tearful, so slope off upstairs with Ems and George. George is on his Game boy we share. I mutter angrily to myself.

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Lunch. I’m not hungry but make the effort.

Cadburys World is our next choice to visit this afternoon, we have a wonderful day, and funny enough chocolate doesn’t make me feel sick, now there’s a thing!

That night Emily is sick. (Too much choccy.)

Emily asks to stay with Bett, and Norman as still isn’t feeling completely pucker when we talk about going swimming. 

 Katie and Rosie really want to go, so does George. Sure, that Emily is settled and happy before we go, we set off.

I don’t swim, I watch can’t risk getting a bug, or cold just now. On our return Em’s is running around the garden and seems much better.

That evening George gets raging earache, and a temperature of 102, he sleeps in with me and Dave. Were all worn out. In the morning Dave gets Calpol. George rallies later that evening, so we decide to take a slow drive home. It is a few days after that poor Georgie feels well enough to return to school. 

See George off to school and decide that I will go into Weymouth. I will go to the Library and get an informative book to read. I park the car and walk through the town. I go to the library.

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I find an awe inspiring book, though deeply sad, of a young woman who had Breast cancer. Her name was “Ruth Picardie” the title was “Before I say Goodbye”, I can only read a few chapters before tears are pouring down my face. This is a strange need in me, to find out how women my age cope or try to cope with this illness. Ruth did it with courage, that’s what I need to know.

Just at that moment I have a terrible feeling, I don’t think or can’t remember getting a parking ticket… Shit. My memory is really something at the moment. I leave the library bookless, tearstained, and in a panic. Money is pretty short at the moment, now I’m on sick leave.

I tank it past the Art Shop, as I do so I see a painting by numbers (Dave is on at me to get a new hobby) a picture of a Norfolk scene, the setting looks just like Burnham Overy Creek, which is where I was born, I have to have it, scrabble in my purse for the change (£1.99 sheer bargain). I steam in- pay in seconds to a rather bemused gentleman, then leg it to the car park.

Between grabbing at Oxygen, I puff and pant to the car park. Almost unable to bare to look to see if I did get a parking ticket peer at my car window screen, I hadn’t bought a ticket. (Crap)Even more surprising (I now believe I have a Guardian Angel) was I don’t Have a yellow plastic wallet containing a car park fine!

Life is great!

                                                          63.      

Paranoid Thursday.

I wait patiently at the Breast care clinic. I have become acclimatised to this clinic now and feel strangely reassured just being here.

I’m in the Peachy room, wearing the cape of Decency. Mr Graham enters the room.

Mr Graham checks my healthy side, for the lump. But bless it has decided to do a hiding act, or hormonally disappeared. I go red and feel a pillack.

I have the Ultrasound, this shows nothing.

I dress and leave, and drive home.

I recognize that an irrational fear has got hold of me, I think I need to talk this trough with a professional, I keep thinking cancer is springing up inside my internal organs like mushrooms.

I phone my g.p when I get in, who refers me onto a Counsellor.

 Someone I can really talk to; someone I don’t have to be brave in front of. Someone I can be honest and say how truly frightened I am.

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Counselling Session.

I now face a situation I’m uncomfortable with. But recognize I need support.

I’m going for my Counselling session. Now this is cute because I have done some training in Counselling, but now have the tables turned and I’m on the receiving end.

I change clothes about eight times before I eventually get I my car, put on the stereo

Fairly loud to cover my beating heart.

Once I arrive at my destination car park I gently pull in and park up, truthfully, I   consider doing a quick U-turn going back out again, how wet am I. Decide to pull myself together and pull on my fetching blue floppy hat. Get out of the car assertively as possible and flop through the door up to the receptionist.

Give my name to Ms Smiley I’m so damn happy Receptionist lady, with full head of hair (Yes, I’m having a great day today) she asks me to take the first door to my left and wait, I will be collected. I feel like an empty milk bottle. I flop (lack of energy you understand, not bad posture) into a chair.

Chatter in the corridor, staff walks towards me. Oh no! I recognize one of the staff, pure pathetic survival techniques kick in (afterwards I can’t believe I’ve done this)

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. I grab a magazine and raises it high, in front of my face. I used to play netball with the staff member coming right passed me. Eventually, hearing click clack heels quieten, get the courage to lower my magazine, there stands my Female Counsellor. (Luckily not the Wing Attack player for a team I can’t remember the name of just at that moment.)

“Kaye?” …Counsellor Lady queries.” Yes!” I reply and follow her pink cardiganed back down a maze of corridors, to her room.

Well, the session goes ok, I find it difficult to let go of my personnel barrier, well after all, it has been my inner defence for years, but slowly I start to put out information. 

Slowly I give my true feelings of how my life is right now, you know already, so just to say it comes out in blips and blobs. My palms are sweaty by the end of the session.

My Counsellor suggests I look into getting a light hobby or an interest to take my mind off things, meanwhile suggests I book another session for in three weeks’ time, after my last Chemo, this is planned as I’m really nervous about coming off of Chemo. Being left to my own cells that want to attack me. 

I leave the building and sit motionless in my car feeling rather stunned with it all. I really need to do something to take my mind off things. We’ve always wanted a dog.                                                          

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Aunty Steff holds the key.

My Aunty Steff phones, we chat that evening, she is thinking of getting a Terrier Puppy. Ohh, I laugh I would love a Basset Hound. I can remember Nanas Bassett Hound low slung like a lion. Steff laughs, and jokingly offers to buy me one, that’s if Dave would be okay with it, we muse. How about a Rescue dog, Steff suggests, this of course is the answer? Steff and I finish our phone call.

“Dave…” Dave agrees to my idea as do the children, as long as the dog isn’t allowed in the front room Dave says. We agree. Anyway, phone Steff the next night, who is ecstatic that Basset Hound a possibility. I receive in the post a few days later a card with a Bassett on and some money to buy a collar and lead.

 Emily and I go to a local dog Sanctuary in Poole, sadly no Bassett’s await us, though plenty of Hienz57, also Greyhounds of all colours. Sadly, we are after the more sluggish side of the market. We are recommended to go through a specialist dog rescue and am put in touch with one such lady.

Wendy is in charge of Basset Rescue. Wendy phones me that evening, talking about firstly my illness and if this is a wise decision. Wendy says these dogs are very therapeutic, they make you smile. Also went through how hard work they were and stubborn. Once the vetting process was discussed Wendy said she would arrange for Anne to visit to do a Home Check. Anne also bred Bassets.

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It was the following evening when Anne rang us asking if it was possible for her to pop round and do a home check, I said that was fine. Long Story short we were approved, much to Emily and George’s excitement. Anne leaves us with some Basset books to look at.

A few days later Wendy phones us, saying there is a possibility of a male Bassett coming up for re-homing would we be interested. I’m a bit knocked back as didn’t expect such a quick result, and was planning to finish Chemo first, however having spoken with mum, Dave and children decide we would like to see him.

Emily and George stay with mum, if dog isn’t suitable think, they would find it hard to leave him behind. Dave finds Wendy’s house, and outside are a pack of Bassets varying in size and colour. I spot a beauty, he’s massive but his tail doesn’t stop wagging. Actually, that was the dog for rehoming!

 Barney was soon ours having signed, micro chipped, gone through Eukenuba feed, and Ear Drops. With a bit of help lifting his rear into the car Barney was ours. Looking at him in the mirror with his ears blowing back looked like he was smiling; all that was needed was goggles. We wave goodbye to Wendy promising to phone if any problems. Home. Mum opens the door, and gasps at Barnes length, she thinks he’s more like a crocodile, Barney doesn’t want to be invited in hurtles past in to see Ems and George. They think he’s great. As do we all. Apart from the cat.

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4^th Chemo

05.04.00

Dave takes me home after asking if vitamin supplements are a good idea, the doctor is positive about this but says be careful and not to overdo things, this has been a gruelling session. Each session makes me feel weaker.

Mum sits for us in the evening so we can go out for a few hours. luckily, the weather is still cold, and I can justify wearing a woolly hat. We have a lovely evening. Dave knocks back a few pints; I drink Orange juice and am designated driver.

5^th Chemo

03.05.11 

I’m really pleased with my progress and am beginning to start planning things following Chemo. I wait for Dr Dean to give all clear for my regime to begin. But unfortunately, that doesn’t happen. My blood count is too low. I remember that woman on my first appointment and I feel all her frustration. But hell, what can you do but just accept. It means I wouldn’t finish treatment till end of May; my hair wouldn’t start growing till middle of June…hey hang on here, I’m being optimistic!

I amaze myself. And with this make my appointment and leave with Dave.

                                                69.                       

Dave suggests booking us a holiday. We walk slowly round the shops in Weymouth, I feel like an old lady in a young person’s body. Thinking of laying on a warm beach sounds like heaven.

Staring in shop windows we see a few deals and go in and ask for details. We then ask if the package entails health insurance, something we can’t travel without I remind Dave. This brings us down to earth with a bang. £500.00 for a week. I say forget it lets just go to Golds Garden centre for a mooch round, tea, coffee and some cake.

Sitting in the garden I exhale and just enjoy not feeling sick or dizzy. Dave has gone quiet. He’s up to something. I follow his gaze as he sips his coffee that follows a path to second-hand caravans.

 Having finished our drinks, we follow the path to caravan heaven. Some are expensive but tucked up in the far corner is a four berth Winetta.

The Salesman came over for a chat, saying she was just in and needs cleaning, but would we like to take a look, yes says Dave.

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ISBN:9798662933149

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