Today is another good day. This whole aiming for more good things is going splendidly, even if I am only two days in!
I had a minor moment of panic last night which was bought on by a combination of me (I really need to stop reading my lymphoma books; they're not as reassuring as they want to be) and anger at America (not like I over-reacted at all) because of their need to make a film about teenage love in a cancer group. How is that heart warming exactly? Why would it be so exciting? Surely people with cancer don't suddenly stop being themselves! It's cancer cancer everywhere and not one bit of it is good news. Ahem...so moving on from anger at American film makers...
I really am feeling much brighter though. I am trying to do whatever I need to, to get me through and I'd certainly recommend the same to anyone when they're feeling low. Today's cheerfulness has been bought on by a mixture of happy music (it never ceases to amaze me how musical sounds can entirely change the mood of a human) and porridge (of the childhood smooth variety). Yes I am aware it is summer and even here in the north we have sun but porridge is like a snuggly hug in your tummy and I think I would benefit from as many hugs as I can get my hands and arms on at the moment!
I've started contemplating telling some more of the people around me after I see the haematologist next week. I figure that the people I like enough to see will at some point either hear it from someone who does already know or will find out because I'll forget I didn't tell them so it makes sense to give them the heads up when I know a bit more, especially since the literature basically says even if you can't see it anymore it's probably still there and will more than likely come back in the future (thanks lymphoma, you really are the gift that keeps on giving). My GP disagrees with this information but since he was also the one that told me he had no idea what it was or whether I even had cancer, I feel safe enough to ignore everything he says in the matter until he proves he has at least Googled it!
I don't want to have the 'I have cancer' chat over and over again. I've been there, seen the mixture of horrified expressions/fear/stupid things that come out of people's mouths and it isn't fun though it is a little bit funny. Is it cruel just to send them a message? Possibly, but I think that might be what I decide to do. At least that way if they're sensible they might keep the bizarre reaction in the room and to themselves rather than giving it to me like a gift that no-one wants. I do believe the gift of cancer was rubbish enough. On the bright side, I'll never be disappointed to receive talc for Christmas ever again, in comparison it is amazing.
Honestly, I'm not sounding bright and cheerful am I? I promise I am. I'm getting lots done and the sun is shining so I'm as shiny as all the sparkly glitter on a disco diva's outfit at a sparkly disco diva convention in Shiny Town! And with that, I shall carry on with my shiny day.
