Having had some wonderful highs at the end of May and beginning of June (a sky-dive from 15,000ft with my youngest child, a lovely trip to Kew Gardens with a friend) I landed with a bump when an envelope came through our letterbox inviting me back for further assessment following a routine mammogram. I'd not been checking my breasts - I do wonder who does remember to do this?
I've got a fabulously supportive family and an incredible amount of friends and colleagues who have all offered something when I've told them about my lump. So if any of them actually read this they'll probably already have an idea of what's been happening. They may also have read very similar paragraphs in texts / correspondence already. My apologies to them for repetition, just makes writing this a little easier and I'm ashamed to admit I'm inherently lazy!!
And the moment I received the recall letter I checked and could feel the lump, of course. The consultant who carried out my biopsy on 9th June told me he was seriously concerned and the word Cancer was mentioned. I was to be referred directly to a Breast Surgeon (rather than go back to the Assessment Clinic) and was told it would be within two weeks. I feel I already know what they're going to say so it won't come as a shock. I'm now waiting.
These things get absorbed slowly, though, information, facts and various emotions them hit at different times. Never sure I can remember everything that I've been told when I'm sharing things with people who need to know. Never really sure when my eyes are going to well up or what the waves of emotions are about: sometimes it's because they've led me to dark places and others it's because I've been overwhelmed by the outpouring of kindness and generosity from those I've told. I actually found myself brimming up with tears and waving my hand in that funny way across my mouth (under my mask, of course) when a kindly nurse at the assessment centre asked if I wanted tea or coffee and a biscuit! I just choked up and couldn't answer! Wonder how often she sees that, poor woman? What a job!
As I've reassured people close to me, most of the time I'm okay, after all nothing's really changed since before my mammogram when I was totally ignorant. And although I've not yet received a formal diagnosis I've had to start letting go just in case to explain why I might not be as available as I should, attend family events (Covid-restrictions permitting) or take up bits of work over the next weeks / months.
I'm pretty open about things, but it's still been hard to share my news with some people. And I know it's not fair to feel annoyed by their concerned tones of voice when they phone up and interrupt one of my robust and positive moments (or denial) with their well meaning and genuine sympathy. They can't possibly know what's going on in my head but it's probably not always what they expect and sometimes I feel less generous about giving them the kind of response they want. Can't help it, I'm not always miserable or thinking about the lump... but I know I can't have it both ways, I wouldn't want people to avoid talking about the lump with me, I don't want there to be secrets, and actually I really appreciate people's care and concern for me. I guess I'm just being a bit contrary.
Has my lump made me bolder? I'm starting to call people out, but feel a little guilty when I do this. Chatting with a friend the other day about how debilitating old age can be she said "I hope I never live that long" and I retorted "I hope I do!". Fortunately she was generous enough to laugh. I'm having to start to learn how to say "no". I know it's going to be good for my wellbeing, but it's really difficult after decades of being a people-pleaser. Any hints would be gratefully received! Does being more closely in touch with your own mortality make you meaner? To counteract this mean streak, I thought I'd share some cakes. Baking brings me joy, takes me to a world of creativity, generosity and kindness.
Sitting in the shade of our Cherry Tree in hot early June, salivating whilst contemplating what to bake next is one of life's pleasures. I managed to pick a load of cherries before the pigeons finished them off and this was the first recipe I blogged during the waiting days. If you fancy making one yourself have a look at https://kathiescakes.wordpress.com/
