This time next year....

...1st July 2014 was the first chemo. I remember that time so clearly, walking into that room armed with food, sweets, frozen drinks, ice lollies, magazines.... Very optimistic, the dreaded cold cap, they said it would be like brain freeze, yeah ok, times that by a thousand and you might be close. 

On the outside I was smiling (as per pic below) but believe me it was gritted teeth and the pain after as my head thoared out Urgh, it makes me feel ill (Sarah Perry, I have no idea how you managed to do this SIX times)

One of the things that kept me going was imagining July 2015 and how nice it was going to be. I would be cancer free, treatment would be over (except recon but that's the good bit I guess) and I would in fact be celebrating my "Chemo-versary" on 1st July 2015 either in a swim up bar or on the beach but both involved Bora Bora and a mojito.

If someone had told me that I would actually have stage 4 breast cancer and places like Bora Bora were for another life then I'm not quite sure I'd have had that same gritted smile, I don't think I would have even pretended. I'm actually quite angry that I didn't know back then because by now I would have been in a much better place. So instead I am weighed down by sadness, it's palpable. I was waiting for Summer 2015, for my second chance at life, everybody deserves a second chance...but not everyone gets their happy ever after... Unfortunately for me I seem to fall once again into the statistic no one wants to be in.

I've been told that in order to move on (with anything in life) you have to forgive.

I'm certainly not ready to forgive and so therefore I can't move on - but can you move on from secondary cancer?