The weekend has finally landed, that means I’m on my last week of normal before I get my bullshitted results. Yep it’s that time again. Last time I got them good results, was on New Year’s Eve. I wrote my first ever post and the whole thing went crazy. I must admit I did think then the cancer had spread and so when they told me it hadn’t I was so relieved. The trouble is since that day I have always known it would come back, now that it has – it’s been quite nice to have a week or so without that intense worry, that I’ve been experiencing EVERYday since December about it coming back – because it’s back. That probably doesn’t make sense and my style of writing probably doesn’t help, because I know this is no joke. Seriously I do. But to have that wait time inbetween knowing its back but not quite knowing how much it’s back has actually been a bit of a slight relief for me.
The only way to explain it is if I could partition my feelings off into 5 long stripes (since all this bullshit) then I would have 1 stripe to represent a big emotion or feeling. The first stripe would be image. I know that sounds weird before death but death seemed a far away worry at the time compared to my image – which would change far sooner than most of the emotional stripes. Let’s call this stripe the pink one. Loosing my hair was such a big deal, but thankfully I found a wig that covered that fear for a good few months, a good 5 to be precise, Mrs wig has seen better days now and my hair is growing back quite nicely- it’s kind of in the middle stage of screaming out ‘I’ve got cancer’ or ‘I’ve shaved my hair for charity look’ or I’m just that kind of girl that likes a skin head look, either way I’m at that stage now where I couldn’t give two shits what I look like in regards to my hair. Eyelashes though, that’s a different kettle of fish, that needs a stripe in itself, I mean walking around looking like a fish is seriously not a good look, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if I had long curly natural locks, a nice set of eyebrows, a body that doesn’t scream steroid induced obesity and a neck the size of my thigh. Once them beauties come back i will be laughing.
The next stripe has got to be that ultimate fear of the cancer returning. If a breast cancer patient was told their cancer had returned, the best outcome would be a local recurrence in the bad boob/scar (I was told mine would be reduced to 1/10 with radiotherapy) or a new primary Breast cancer in the other boob. Quite rare I’ve been told, they are the best ones to have as they are curable. The ones you don’t want is when the existing breast cancer cells spread to your organs or bones, that’s the worry most breast cancer patients face, I would say probably daily – especially at the beginning, this type of cancer ‘coming back’ is not curable, it’s treatable but ultimately you will die from this disease.
Imagine for a second how that would feel day in day out worrying about it coming back? I’ve had every scenario you could possibly imagine go through my head ten times a day since December, I’ve written a journal with my true fears about the cancer coming back. The worry eats you up inside and that gremlin in your brain just sits in the corner watching you. I’ve been told by lots of other breast cancer survivors that the worry feeling does fade in time. But I haven’t had no time, no time at all. My cancer come back before I had even finished active treatment, that intense worry, that black emotional stripe has now turned grey, because it is back. It’s almost like I don’t need to worry about that particular stripe anymore. Of course it brings in a new stripe. Death. But it’s in appropriate of me to talk about this on an open blog, most of my family and friends read this and that would be too insensitive of me to discuss. (Just to clarify in not dying!!)
So wittingly it down the other 3 stripes are family, work and health. I don’t want to whittle on about these three as most people have these as priority wether they have cancer or not, but hopefully you can see my view on the black stripe now being diluted and turning grey.
So if you see me out and about, without Mrs wiggy on and the no eyelashes *huh hum* come and say hello. I’ve seen a few people now that have avoided me, I know it’s them not knowing what to say, but seriously I am cool, I won’t be an emotional wreck. I’m just me.