It really feels real once I start telling people. They say 'How are you?' not expecting a twisted face sort of reply. I'm not a good liar and if someone asks me how I am then I tell them. But it turns out to be hard. 'Sorry I won't be available then because...' and their faces fall. Stricken is the word I use. No one knows how to react to a cancer diagnosis. I tell people that I am fine - no, really I am - and they look both disbelieving and relieved at the same time. Three people cried, which I wasn't expecting and almost everybody feels compelled to give me a hug. That's fine because I am a hugger and the increased physical contact - especially in the aftermath of Covid, is lovely. There are surprises though. People who I expected to be a support take the news on board and never mention it again. People that I barely know send cards, messages and body lotion. Some people want to know every detail (and I'm a sharer so that's fine) and some people don't want to know anything and change the subject.
To be fair, the positive totally outweighs the negative. Three Quakers promise to 'hold me in the light' - a phrase that I find incredibly moving. The convent across the road says a Mass for me. The choir that I lead records a song and good luck message and sends it to me on the night before my operation. People are generous, kind and massively supportive. I am blown away by it all. So when people ask me how I am now I tell them that cancer diagnosis notwithstanding, I am very grateful for my family and friends.
