Tuesday, 21 June 2016

Panic button

Overall the last few months have been pretty amazing, becoming an aunty again, moving house/pulling down ceilings/sanding/picking paint/new kitchen... All pretty "normal" standard stuff, this is exactly what I've been waiting for, for 2 years. Oh and I also spent the day in London being interviewed for a documentary but more on that later...

Today I had my 6 monthly full spine and pelvis MRI. Big sigh. Didn't really think much of it but I woke up this morning And my old friend had returned - the little ball of anxiety lodged in the back of my throat, fabulous.

Cancer has crept back into my thoughts, I'd been doing really well, I've been going hours without thinking about the big C, I've felt a bit regular again...

I think it started when I had to go pay for a plastic piercing tone put in my ear so it won't close up - is this something I'll have to do now every 6 months! Will I have to pay for them to put my metal one back in??

I know I'm imagining it but I'm sure the MRI machine is smaller, or did they put the bed up higher this time? And those bloody headphones which lets face it, you can't really hear the music anyway can you? So I had my headphones on, huge cage over my pelvis, another around my neck, I was given the all important panic button (which of you ask me, they must get so annoyed if you press that as you have to start all over again - imagine if life had a panic button - press it and everything stops?...) and I shut my eyes and my thoughts floated off... Started with Bora Bora (nope still not been) and then I came crashing back with thoughts of "oh my god they're all looking at my spine - it's covered in cancer, they're all doing that bloody head tilt"... 

I was told that it would take around 45 minutes so I was quite surprised when I was ejected out after only 30, not sure if that's good or bad? I'm thinking that if it was bad they'd have scanned and re-scanned? Maybe?... 

I checked that should there be anything really horrid that my oncologist would call and see me sooner? Yes. Will it be reported on this week? Yes. She also said that it would go through as urgent, why is that? Is that because I lied and said I was meeting my oncologist next week? And so it begins.....

But I did get a heart made out of play do from Lolaah, so it's not all bad I guess....

Thursday, 9 June 2016

730 days

The biopsies are back, I'm really sorry, it's picked up cancer cells......you have cancer.

That was 2 years ago today. 2 whole years and yet whenever I think about that day I get that horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach. It's actually quite overwhelming. I'm not the same person that I was 731 days ago. I wish I was that person, I would love to feel that again, carefree, normal ( and not to have a bloody lymphedema sleeve or crappy menopause). Wow I can't even remember how it feels, that makes me sad, 2 whole years.

I suppose in terms of my emotional state I'm the best I've ever been in the last 730 days, well today I feel like I am. The crying is less frequent, but I'm still, and will always be weighed down by cancer. 

Gone are the days of an ache or pain being nothing more than an ache or pain because I've drank too much the night before or I've hurt myself exercising or I'm just worn out from working 12 hour days, it's the cancer returning, of course it has, it's bound to at some point isn't it?

Am I too happy at the minute?this surely won't last long, something is going to happen, it has to, it always does, prepare for and expect the worst. This is now what feels normal for me, these feelings, is this it now..... forever?

At night I lie in bed and imagine what life would have been, what would I look like? Where would we live? What would our 19 month old child look like? What would she (I always imagine she) be doing -talking? Walking? Would she be a girly girl? Would our house be full of dolls and my little ponies? Would we be going on our very own family holiday? Would we be thinking about another? Maybe a blue one?

Yep, 730 days on and I still can't sleep.

I guess it doesn't really matter, there's no point in thinking about these things, the clock won't go back, this can't be undone and I'm pretty sure this nightly routine I have isn't exactly healthy, but I almost look forward to it. Life can be anything I want it to be. 

And then I get a twinge and there it is again, reality, cancer, and I'm wide awake, it's the loneliest place to be.