An old photo, taken about 18th months ago, but you can see how tall she is...
May14
Yesterday I had a mammogram and ultra-sound, to investigate a sore boob, the left one.
I felt really confident that it was going to be an easy and almost painless procedure. I was totally ok about it all, even flippant. Then I had the ultrasound, and it took forever. The technician went over the same areas again and again, over the sore spots, and a darkish area in there, that she marked out with her cursor and took multiple images of. I got more and more scared as the process went on. Then she left to go and “check” that all the right images had been done in another room. She was away for about 10 minutes, leaving me lying there all mucky under a towel, alone, and afraid. It was the worst 10 minutes I have ever had. Once I started thinking that she had been away TOO long- I started to then wonder, was there really something very seriously wrong? Would she come back with a Medico to inform me I was in a bad way? When would she come back, and would she apologise to me for taking so long?
Well when she finally came back she was extremely impersonal and dismissive, and that made me even more suspicious.
So now I await the results in a state of high anxiety- waiting for the Vit B to kick in… maybe I’ll go and have some chamomile tea…
Thankfully I have a lot to do and it’s a magnificent day.
It’s Sylvie’s birthday tomorrow, and I am determined, that no matter what the news is, I won’t let it affect her day.
The family knows me, and knows how I am a total hypochondriac, who has had some health scares over the years, but nothing really serious has come of them…yet.
And so I have a lot of reasons to be positive and to reassure myself that this too will be something minor, and I’ll be OK. But on the other hand, why should I? Why shouldn’t it be that I, like so many of my peers these days, have fallen prey to Breast cancer as well? Why should I be spared?
As I said to Liz last night (who is fighting an advanced form of Breast cancer), I am not as afraid of the disease nor the treatment, as I am of losing the life I now have, the sameness and security of it. I don’t like change, and I don’t like the thought of it. I am cosy, I am secure, and I am content. I know where I belong, I love my family they way they are, and I don’t want ANY of it to change. Hear that God? Please don’t let it be!
I’m so glad I shared all that with that particular friend, she has lost her husband to leukaemia, she has lost her breast, her hair, her livelihood, and she comforted me by reminding that it all changes, all the time- the partners, the kids, the jobs, the circumstances, and we DO cope. Thanks Liz, you are a ROCK.
May 15th
My darling little girl’s 17th birthday , and well, I’ve enjoyed it all, starting with getting up early to cook her breakfast, then walking the dogs, then cooking pies. After I forced lunch down I braved myself to ring my Doctor about my results.
My heart was in my stomach and my stomach was in my mouth. I shook and quaked and panted, but then I deep breathed as the receptionist told me “for all intents and purposes it’s
They were words of GOLD that filled my heart with inexpressible joy.
Later, as I went out shopping, feeling like Superwoman herself, invincible, unstoppable; my doctor rang to explain that I have a number of cysts and may need them treated some time in the future. Heck, I can deal with that. But I could have dealt with worse news too. I know Cancer can kill. I know many breast cancers are lethal. But I also know that I have a deeper peace, and an abiding sense that I would not be doing it alone. I know it sounds corny but it’s true. While I was contemplating how I might deal with the worst possible scenario, I was also deciding how I might win this battle, how I might cheat death and spit it in the eye. I maybe gained an iota of insight into the mind of an actual person dealing with cancer, and how they might feel about it. And it wasn’t exactly a feeling of fear or helplessness I felt, but more of acceptance without necessarily accepting defeat. Hard to explain really.
I hope I never have to face cancer for real. But I won’t spend my life running scared. I will live it with even more gratitude and passion and less concern for always being correct or serious or worried about what I think are stupid things!
PS, The birthday dinner went off really well, Sylvie had a lovely time and we had fun, especially me- and maybe I had a few wines too many, but I really wanted to celebrate life.
So I did.
