Post op – the Cancer is out….

So its out. The Cancer is out. And I am tired. More tired than I felt having a new born five years ago. Absolutely dog tired.

12/09/18

I wake up absolutely exhausted and I slept fairly well (I mean as well as you can do with a bra still on and a pain riding down my arm rendering it numb. I decided in my wisdom that a walk on our lovely fells would do me a treat. Well, that was a mistake! Was probably too much as the next day I slept until 11.30am and woke up just as exhausted again. This was not what I expected at all. I did get a lot of flowers though from my thoughtful friends, they made me smile – which girl doesn’t like getting flowers!

The child returned home and I was overjoyed. She has no idea what is going on apart from that my left booby is broken. I think that adequately describes it for her! She keeps asking to be reminded which side she can hug me on and every time it annoys me that this damn cancer is making life a little bit more difficult. I mean, in the grand scheme of things its not that big a deal, but why should my five year old be affected like this. Ugh.

14/09/18

I return to hospital for a wound check with the lovely Pauline. She removes the huge dressing (which was like a lovely painful wax!) and checked it out, but I didn’t really feel like looking at it. I’m not quite prepared for whether it looks a bit weird. But if I’m honest, regardless of the scar, the rest of the boob looks pretty much the same. It doesn’t feel smaller than it was. I mean, it is still smaller than the other one but it doesn’t look different in the main. Although now, I think my relationship with them has totally changed. For anyone that is a mother, I think you change your concept when you’ve breastfed and to be honest it took me a long time to love them after their practicality then. I wonder how long it will take me now to accept them again?

Pauline examined me and although I have a wonderful amount of bruising and numbness in my armpit and down the back of my arm (think the feeling of a trapped nerve constantly) and some water retention, I was declared fairly well! We talked about chemo, which now sounds a lot more scary and an absolute ball ache. Hair loss was mentioned (I am determined that I am coming back blonde and straight!), however there is an ice thing (need to look into that probably) that can help prevent the hair loss. Maybe the dentist had been right when she mentioned that!

Then I was blindsided. We talked about the histology that was going on, and the mention of clear tissue needing to be found round the cancer removed (the analogy was that of a peach stone too close to the surface. If there wasn’t clear peach round the outside of the stone it was bad). In reality this equated to going back under the knife. Ryan and I walked out of there a little bit dazed. We hadn’t thought about that. It wasn’t a thing in my head at all and I didn’t much fancy the idea of another operation before getting started with chemo. I also didn’t want to think about cancer still being in my body. So I parked that thought to deal with at another space and time.  I had a waiting game to deal with and tiredness to knock on the head until 26/09. It was going to be a long week and a half. The bloody ‘long game’ is what cancer treatment should be called. I can only guess if you have more aggressive cancer then it might go quicker. Maybe that is reassuring.

20/09/18

Well, 2am this morning and I nearly broke the floodgates and let all the tears come. It was the most bizarre situation. I was having the weirdest dream with old and new friends, ex work colleagues, snow (? Its still summer!), a basement party, Home & Away stars (even more bizarre), then I was trying to get out a train station and my friend and the Police were there, and I stole a passport from a locker to get through the gates so they arrested me. I mean all that there sounds like I was on a weird trip! But when they told me I would get jailed for six years, I broke to my knees and wailed. I woke up abruptly with silent tears streaming down my face, and after a loo trip I was in the sobbing phase. After sitting in my living room pulling it together, I knew I didn’t want this to be the point I broke. I know that I don’t want to break yet, if ever. I need to fight this with clear head and at this moment in time I don’t need to get into my negative head. I need to be strong. There will be plenty time when this finishes (I hope) that I can cry and look back on it and deal with it. But at this moment in time I am fighting.

At 8am watching some rubbish on TV, the postcode lottery advert was on with their catchy slogan ‘it could happen to anyone’. Well – that felt much like this bloody cancer. It happened to me and I am living it.

I’ve got this. Still waiting, but still strong.

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