OUR CARAVAN OF LOVE AND HOPE …

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 9 Next Week

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 Gould’s 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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Key found we enter caravan. Dusky pink lounge carpet. Four berths in good order.

Double bed at backroom. Tidy kitchen and working loo. Dave buys it then and there for £400.00.

Winnie the caravan joins our family. That evening Dave calls round work colleague’s looking for storage for Winnie. A farmer in Chickerell rents a field problem solved.

The following weekend we go to Durdle Door with all the kids. The great outdoors.

Caravanning is great, we play cricket, tennis, walk the dog, eat lots, and play cards during the evening, before bed.

All too soon the weekends over, time to pack up and leave the caravan field, that only as us and one other caravan.

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My last Chemo.

24.05.00

I have had my last chemo. I’ve done it, my families done it yippee! I thank all the nurses for there never ending support. Jan and I arrange to meet in six months and promise to keep in touch by phone. We hug. My last Chemo, I am anxious to not to be having more of these wonder drugs, which cease s my cells to develop in mad patterns.

I go home and phone Fran, she is two years post treatment, and knows where I’m coming from. Fran is calming; she tells me we are in charge of our bodies.                 That the Chemo stays in our bodies for a long time. And that lastly, I would have three monthly check-ups for the first year, and mammograms yearly, umm calmer now.

Chat about our families, and then work. Fran is now back to work full time. I’m planning to go back September. First, we have the children’s six week summer holiday. I will use this time to re cooperate. Good idea Fran says, don’t rush back before I feel really well. We say goodbye and good lucks.                                                              

Through the ensuing weeks, I have various lumps and bumps checked, I find out I also have an extra rib.

Jan and Linda Baldry support me by responding to my panicky messages, swiftly.

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 I join the local Breast Care Support Group that is held in a church hall in Weymouth, there is a lady there that had a Mastectomy 20 years ago, also a lady that has Secondaries…. I also meet another lady called Mary, we become friends and arrange to meet. She had a Mastectomy five years ago. If anyone walked into this room now, they would question if they were in a keep fit class the way people are so bubbly.

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Getting back to life.

The summer holidays fly by, we enjoy hot sunny days down the beach, picnics.

For me searching out a shady spot, I am sporting a new swimming costume; the top is like a bikini sports top, covers down to my ribs. I am aware of the red scar on my back, my life scar I have called it.

We build sandcastles and enjoy just being. George gets into a large sand fight, Dave has to intervene, as sun bathers are getting covered, little sods. George comes back looking like a sandman. Ice cream is brought, and everyone settles back down.

Emily, Rosie and Katie and making sand mermaids, using seaweed for hair. The sky is blue, and the sea gently laps, life is good, no life is brilliant. I look at my family and sigh content just in that moment.

The holidays are ending; my children have had a fun time being generally

spoiled, by family and friends. They seem extraordinarily strong little people now; they are more independent of me, more self-sufficient. Dave continues going to work, seeing Rosie and Katie.

My beloved mum has at last had the news her drains are now sorted in her house, and she can shortly return home. That will feel strange I’ve got used to her being around.

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Back to work.

Holidays are over, its September school gates creak open, and swarms of children sway up the street on the path back to education. They pretend not to be happy about this as they chat excitedly to reunited friends that they have missed over the halls.

Emily and George have gone, the house is empty apart from Barney and me. I can even hear the mantle clock ticking. I sit and have a coffee, having tidied away

Breakfast dishes go upstairs to get my work shoes. I pause and look at my reflection; I wonder how my colleagues will react to my return. I have gained a little weight now, and my hair is now short and wavy, darker than my Strawberry blonde before.

I put Barney out in his kennel, check he has clean water.

“Well Barney this is it, I’m back to work!” Barney lays down on his blanket looking at me quizzically. Walking back through the kitchen to hall I pick up keys from hook.

Stop, turn round and take a last look. I thought this day would never come.

Driving to work I feel the rush of exhilaration.

I am away from home. I’m going to work!

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Arriving in Dorchester, drive around for five minutes; trying desperately to find a parking spot (Always difficult in a hospital car park). I have to give up and decide to try further afield. Cutting down the back streets, I turn into Dagmar Road. Dagmar Road, number 32 that is where I lived with my first husband Kelvin Emily and Georges Dad. Gosh that seems a lifetime ago. I park outside. Pause and smile. I slip through the back alley to Williams Avenue and cross the main road. Before I go to the main hospital. I pop in and say hello to Gill one of the secretaries in The Children’s Centre.

After I walk up the steps towards the Pencils (Large mobile of different coloured pencils-Some Architects dream) turn left and get lift up to Hardy Ward. Pass the large photos of staff”. Hello, it’s good to be back.” I say this quietly as I pass by.

Balloons are attached to our office door. I enter” Welcome back!” banners go across the room; more balloons are attached to the walls. I see a card for me, signed from Debs, Karyn and Pippa.

I turn then get into my in tray.

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. Life slips to normality. It is September 2000.

 However, I find that after a while working in a hospital environment challenging. Feeling the need to change direction work wise I look into doing a Reflexology Course, at the Weymouth College a Holistic Course.

Ringing up find the course is 3 weeks in but if I feel ok about it, they have one space. Passing the interview, I grab the course! The course is one day a week (Perfect) and will fit in with my working hours. I’m rather proud of my whites, looking like someone from Daz Advert. I have also decided that I want to change my job, I have always enjoyed working with the Elderly and would like to go back to working in the community.

After many walks with mum at Abbots bury along the beach path (This is where we always churned things over) debating should I, shouldn’t I give up my hospital job decide to do just that. I have learnt such a lot in this job, and the characters I have met I will never forget. Especially my very first patient Jimmy. Following his Stroke all he could say was the F word. But every Christmas Jimmy sent me a Christmas card.

Debs and Karyn were sad I was leaving but understood and wished me well in my new position with Carewey. I had got a job with an elderly lady and her son who lived six doors up from me. Couldn’t have worked out better.

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Time ticks by, the children relax; mum is well settled back in her house now.

Barney lolls around the house. Rabbits sunbathe in the garden. Pickles, well she’s just the same, sneaking in with the Guinea pigs.

We all regain our independence. I catch up with friends that found my illness difficult to cope with. Emily and George have as many friends round as we can pack in. I can recognise who these are by the trainers in the hall.

I relish not having to drive to work and enjoy making new work friends.

Through “Bosom Buddies “a Support group I joined, I meet Monica Fosse who lives on Portland just round the corner from me, she also works for “Weymouth and Portland Housing”.

 Monica asks if I would like to apply for a part time cleaning post at Lady mead Hall.

I go for the interview but am offered not the cleaning job but a Wardens position starting in February, it’s all happening!

Emily’s loft conversion is now complete- Ems takes up new residency, George switches rooms, and paints with Dave his room, yes Orange and red again. Complete with new bunk bed and desk underneath. Katie and Rosie have their bunk beds in George’s old room,

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Health check-ups pass well, 1 month, then 3 months.

Then it’s Christmas. Dave cooks, and we all celebrate. What a year!

. Feb, March slip by, April, May, June and then July & at last I qualify as a Reflexologist!!!! Whoopee doo!

. Now I work occasionally (voluntarily having got through the vetting process) as a Reflexologist for Ham wick House, treating Cancer patients. This is, as and when needed. It’s the least I can do after all. Now I can give something back to the N.H.S as a thank you for all the care I received.

Not the end!

ISBN:9798662933149

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