“Courage doesn’t always roar. Sometimes courage is the little voice at the end of the day that says I’ll try again tomorrow.”

pe·nul·ti·mate (phase one of the process is nearly over)

adj.

1. Next to last

 

I know it’s been a while, and I won’t lie these are getting harder and harder to write. Mainly because I don’t want to sound like a broken record but mostly in truth because I set out with the intention to remain positive and that does not always happen so I have to take each day as it comes.

I remain positive in thinking about the long term outcome but the day to day  drivers of coping with the treatment can sometime overtake my thoughts and I feel sad, angry, low and in pain.  Then I remember that there is always someone worse off than me and have to drag myself back to the long term outcome which is to ‘Kick the ass out of my bastard cancer’, and I gain some calm for short bursts.

Having cancer is a great leveller.  Some people shy away from it and cannot face that I may have changed or be a reduced version of myself in some way and talk about everything but it.  Some people tackle it head on and want to engage me in a conversation about it, learn from it and spread the word.  There is no right or wrong way we all just have to come to terms with what it is, because it is what it is ‘Bastard Cancer’, the proverbial elephant in the room with me, always there, always silent.

Joanne bears the brunt of my mood swings which can range from loud, brash, aggressive on days I am on steroids (some may say no change there then!), to the slow realisation that I am battling with my life which can mean overwhelming sadness and being withdrawn as I disappear into my thoughts of what lies ahead.  I think is ok to admit it gets a little scary but being a tough nut means I usually manage to pull my- self through it.  

You can’t escape cancer; it’s on every night on the TV either because it’s in soap, or an advert and the amount of people who know someone with it is immeasurable.    We are in the month of November which means ‘Movember’ to my men friends and like breast cancer one in eight men will be diagnosed with it in the UK.  So please dig deep and support our men friends who are participating in this worthwhile cause.

I am on my penultimate chemotherapy session this Friday and my final session is the 6^th December which gives me just about enough recovery time to have a great Christmas before I start the next phase my mastectomy in early January.   When I was first diagnosed this was the part of the process I was least scared of.  Having large breasts which let me tell you are a pain in the neck literally and metaphorically speaking I thought secretly it would be my chance to get a reduction and a perky new set of boobs for all my trouble of getting rid of the ‘bastard cancer’.  However I find myself thinking the nearer it gets about how attached I actually am to them.   I mean I haven’t seen my feet in years and it will be a strange feeling looking down and seeing nothing.   

I see the breast surgeon in the next couple of weeks so will let you know how this goes as before I can think of reconstruction phase I have to have 5 weeks of radiotherapy every day immediately after the mastectomy so it’s a long way off yet.  Please don’t think I am making light of it, it’s my way of coping with the enormity of a mastectomy and possibly a double mastectomy and I don’t know how I am going to react until it happens.

 

“The pain you feel today is the strength you feel tomorrow. For every challenge encountered there is opportunity for growth.” 

 Love Wendy x