The Bone Marrow Biopsy

Considering the amount of biopsies I've had done and that I still have to have done, (every 3 months for the next 3 years.) I haven't really mentioned them before now.. my first experience of a bone marrow biopsy was pretty soon after I was admitted... I cried the whole way through it, pretty hysterically, whilst holding tightly onto the nurse's hand by the bed and covering the white pillow case with my black mascara tears.

I listened to the doctor explaining to me how the biopsy procedure would go, how it would be performed, that they were hoping to get a specific diagnosis out of it, the possible risks.. essentially everything I needed to know. I signed the consent form after everything had been explained, but if I'm honest, I was such a mess that I hadn't really taken on board any of the information I'd just been told. I understood, but I didn't want to. I never really wanted to know how bad my cancer was, or that it was indeed cancer. I just wanted to curl up and for everything to be done and dusted. Just like that. Life back to normal... but it doesn't work like that.
To date, I've probably had around 9 or 10 biopsies... I had one when I was admitted, one after my first cycle of treatment, one after my second cycle of treatment, one after my third cycle of treatment and one after my fourth cycle of treatment and I've had several more biopsies since then. Initially I was having my biopsies under a local anaesthetic, which is the standard procedure... you have a couple of shots in the skin/tissue of your back and then a couple more deeper down.. the needle goes in, (around those nobbly bobbly bits you can feel on your lower back) right into the bone and then your marrow gets sucked out, with a bit of pushing and pulling. With the pushing and pulling and having the needle in your back in general, I experienced a lot of discomfort. The pain shot from my back, straight down my leg and it was a very weird, uncomfortable and persistent sensation, with sharp shots of pain popping up every now and then to add to the pain that was already there. It's really hard for me to accurately describe the pain I experience... but I wouldn't wish it on anybody. Sometimes it wasn't as bad, but other times it was just unbearable and I'd kick out without intending to and have to have my legs held down until the needle was out. The more times I had the biopsy, the more I anticipated the pain and the tenser I got beforehand which didn't help at all. The first couple of times, I felt so rough that I don't think I was fully aware of the pain. It does also depend on who's doing the procedure, as some doctors put more anaesthetic in than others... there is also the option of having gas and air, but that didn't really work for me. For the majority of my biopsies I was crying so much that I was a big mess of tears, snot and dribble, I couldn't really grasp the whole 'breathe in breathe out' technique, as well as squeezing my Mum's hand and trying not to concentrate on the pain... I wasn't very good at multitasking. It might be because of my lack of multitasking, or because my pain tolerance got progressively worse with each biopsy, that the last two I've actually had done under a general anaesthetic. I'm slightly torn by this, as it does mean I spend the majority of my morning in hospital, (arrive at 7am, then I get home by about 12/1ish) although I am fast asleep and pain free with no clue what's going on during the procedure.. however a part of me thinks it might be easier to grit my teeth and just cry my heart out for 20/30 minutes, then I can run off home straight afterwards.

Obviously, everyone's pain threshold is different.. you might be reading this about to go for your bone marrow biospy, go in, have it done and then come out thinking that I must be one of those people who cry when they tread on a lego brick. I've sat on the day unit waiting to go in and have seen people three times my age go in and out of the room for their biopsy like it was nothing. It totally depends on the person and mine have definitely gotten worse the more I've had done, but that is probably down to me working myself up over it days before I know it's going to happen. For the type of cancer I had (Acute Promyelocytic Leukaemia) now that I'm in remission, having a bone marrow biopsy done every three months is the easiest and most effective way of monitoring the cancer if it comes back, which is why I have the biopsy and bloods done and not just blood tests.

It may not be as bad as you think it will be, my first handful of biopsies, pain wise, were bearable.. they just got worse with time. As with all procedures, if you're worried about scarring, it isn't too noticeable... like a faded dot to dot along your lower back!

To Wig or Not To Wig?

A couple of weeks ago, my Dad and I made the long 5 hour car journey back up to Aberystwyth where I was at uni (and will be returning to in September for my final year) so that I could spend several days seeing my lovely friends, some of whom I hadn't seen since before I was diagnosed last year in June 2013! Which was mainly down to me not wanting to see anybody when I wasn't well. It wasn't that they weren't my friends and couldn't be bothered to come and see me, it was simply because I didn't feel like seeing or talking to anyone. I shut myself off from my friends for a while. I didn't tell them when I was first diagnosed  in June, only a few people knew as my Mum had passed on a message I wasn't well, the majority of my friends found out a month later in July when I dropped it into conversation. This may sound strange. Why wouldn't I tell my friends straight away? Some of whom I've known for years and years. Honestly? I don't think I accepted the whole situation for a while. I was there in hospital, having blood and platelets being pumped into me quite intensively during the first several weeks and it was almost like I was looking down on myself watching all of this going on around me. It took me a while to actually register what was going on.

So when I went up to Aberystwyth, I took my trusty wig along which I got from Trendco in Hove, (you can read all about my lovely wig *here*) as I was very aware of the fact that when I last saw the majority of my friends, I had had lovely long hair that reached almost half way down my back.

I arrived at my friends house (where I should also have been living this year) in my wig and it was really lovely to see everybody again! I braved it the next couple of days and didn't wear my wig, as we mainly stayed in catching up, or wandered around town for a bit. Nothing major. Then came Friday night. Two of my friends were celebrating their birthday in town (which I did know about, as that was one of the reasons I had gone up to Aberystwyth in the first place.) The theme was to dress as something beginning with either a G or a T, so my friend and I went as two tigers. After I'd done makeup on a couple of my friends, I started getting ready, the panic had already set in, what was I so worried about? Should I wear my wig? Shouldn't I wear my wig? Some people won't be aware of what I've been through, what will they say? Will they shout abuse at me? Will they make a passing comment about the girl with really short hair? Why is it so short, did she do a Miley and shave it off and it's only just growing back? She had such nice hair before, what has she done to herself? The questions and the nasty comments that could potentially be said kept popping up in my head. I was panicking, it was the first time I was going out since June and I couldn't stop this chain of negative thoughts that I thought other people would be thinking too when they saw me.

I had to put on my wig.

I wanted a night of normality, I wanted a night where I could go out with my friends like I used to, like any 21 year old would want to and just have fun. The line 'I feel more comfortable with my wig on' came out of me as I was getting ready and they were fine with that. They didn't ask me any questions, or why, (which I was glad about because honestly, I think I would have started crying.) They simple said if that's what makes you comfortable then that's fine with us. I have the best bunch of friends.

Me, Courtney and Frankie, ready for our night out. ❤

So I went out and I had a lovely final night in Aber. Going back to Aberystwyth made me realise a few things. It made me realise that when you've been through so much and you've been told you're in remission and in the all clear you want life to snap back to normal, how it used to be. But you know what? It won't and it doesn't. Looking at myself each day in the mirror is a constant reminder, I see my short, boyish hair and remember how it all fell it. I can picture it very clearly. Clumps falling from my head to the floor. Masses of hair getting stuck in my hair brush... even my Dad scooping handfuls worth of hair up off the bathroom floor and telling me it'll grow back. He's right, it does grow back. But that doesn't mean it makes it any easier.

My life won't snap back to normal, physically yes, I'm doing so much better than I was and I am in remission and so far in the all clear. But mentally, it takes its toll. There will always be the memories, the little things you see or do on a daily basis that will trigger flashbacks to lying in a hospital bed, hooked up to machines. I'm sure one day in several years time, it will be back to it's lovely length, but for now I have my trusty wig for those days when I don't want to think about what's happened, or thinking about it becomes all too much. I'm incredibly thankful for the doctors and nurses who have helped me this far and will continue to help me and I am also thankful for my amazing bunch of wonderfully supportive friends.