I’m Tamsin and I have lymphoedema in both arms and my right
hand.
My lymphoedema story begins with dry
hands - I had just finished chemotherapy to treat a recurrence in 2012 when my
daughter was admitted to hospital. As I was still vulnerable to infection, I
was scrupulously washing my hands on the children's ward. Soon afterwards, my
right hand became puffy and by the time I was seen at a Lymphoedema Service, my
hand was alarmingly swollen.
With my cancer diagnosis,
everything happened very quickly - scan, results, and then a treatment plan.
Every new symptom is swiftly investigated. With lymphoedema, everything happened
slowly - you wait ages for an appointment, you are given a sleeve or wrap and
advised to try it out for a few months.
Initially my swelling got much,
much worse - I couldn’t hold a fork or a pen, I couldn’t get my arm into the
sleeves of my clothes. Then, fluid started leaking out from cracks in the skin
on my fingers.
I had my hand and arm bandaged
every day at the hospital for three weeks. I’ll never forget the layers and
layers of bandages - I felt like a living mummy! Finding out that I’d only lost
300 mls after all this effort was really disappointing! I was to learn that
losing fluid is a bit like losing weight, it’s slow, gradual and there are -
frequent - setbacks!
Over around 18 months, I lost
nearly a litre of fluid from my arm and I really worked hard to achieve this -
religiously wearing my compression garment, wearing a glove at night and doing
upper-body exercises twice a day to improve the flow of my lymph fluid. My arm
now looks ‘normal’ although I have some fibrosis (hardening of the tissue) in
my hand. I still have to wear a custom-made compression garment or the swelling
just comes back.
I’m prescribed two garments every
6 month. It takes an hour for the 27 or so individual measurements to be
painstakingly taken of the length and width of each of my fingers, my hand and
arm. I choose black because it doesn't show the dirt but I think it's shocking
that the choice of garments is so limited for people who need made-to-measure
garments.
I loathe my compression garment.
I hate the daily gymnastics involved in getting my sleeve on (imagine pulling
on size 6 spandex pants). I hate the loss of sensation, the painful blisters
that develop between my fingers, the stiff, uncomfortable fabric and the
colours.
Unlike my breast cancer, I can’t
hide my lymphoedema. Well-meant but intrusive questions - ‘Whatever have you done
to your hand?’ ‘How long will it take to get better?’ - are difficult to
answer.
And then I got lymphoedema in my
left arm about a year ago. It felt a bit like a cruel PS, coming four years
after my second breast cancer. But in comparison with my right arm it’s easy to
manage.
Infection is a worry. The skin on
my hand is like tissue paper and needs care and attention. I’ve had cellulitis
- a bacterial infection of the skin and tissue - at least twice a year. It
caused me a lot of trouble last year when I became very ill after a mosquito
bite.
I think that breast cancer
charities focus on raising awareness about lymphoedema and preventing the
condition. But what about those of us living with lymphoedema? We are the
forgotten ones.
My advice to anyone with lymphoedema
is to be proactive. I've learned to cope with my lymphoedema by investing in my
overall health and fitness and by trying to take control of my condition. Peer
support and organisations like LSN and LWO Support have been invaluable, but we
desperately need more support to manage our individual needs.
#ResilienceinLymphoedema