Some part of me went into ‘catastrophe overdrive’ in those days after the scan. I consulted a solicitor to write a will, pulled out of a house purchase, signed up for Amazon Prime, ordered supplements, gave up coffee, alcohol, sugar. I even bought a more reliable car, just in case. I came back from supermarket shops without essentials, I found four tubs of dried yeast in one shop. Four! One tub lasts me more than a year. Frightening hospital scenarios started waking me up at 3.30 every morning. I began making endless lists in my head for all the things I might need to take to hospital. One of the more crazy days found me researching hospice care. And every day I imagined a new symptom. My consultant told me categorically there is no pain with endometrial cancer, but I imagined pains into existence. I stocked up on ibuprofen and paracetamol, discovering that Boots and Sainsburys have a limit on how much you can buy at one time. I had abdominal pains, backaches, breast pains, indigestion, and headaches. What if I got Covid? Would all treatment stop? What if the surgeon got in a car accident? Who could I get to help me? I live alone, I have no children. I felt terribly isolated and scared.
