Sunday's done with - 3 more sleeps until the haematologist (not that I expect this to be some kind of watershed moment).
I woke up in a reasonable mood, accidentally nutted the bathroom sink (I bent over) and was a bit peeved after that. I got to catch up with the fatherish one via text which was a little surreal, largely because he was trying to compare his thinning hair to the sound of rain hitting a tin roof. Unfortunately what he actually sent me was a message comparing his thinning hair to rain hitting a tin foof. He didn't know what a foof was (insert bizarre sarcastic conversation between daughter and father here). I assumed we'd swap places one day in the teaching/learning roles but I hadn't envisaged starting with explaining a slang word for female genitalia. Just as well we share a sense of humour really.
I was very tense still today and was struggling to pay attention but we went to see Hairypants' dad and grandparents and despite being desperate to stay at home staring intently at every inch of my body, looking for anything that might be new, I was pleased I made it out.
His family are awesome, especially his grandma who is ridiculously funny and has a touch of the Mrs Doyle's about her. She was most affronted that I only drank tea and resorted to just placing cheese and chutney sandwiches in peoples' hands. I love her!
In a more 'on topic' vein, was the Macmillan advert always on so often or did I just never notice before?! I know I'm just more aware of it now but blimey it's everywhere. I wish I didn't feel so stressed and fearful but I guess you just hold your breath waiting. Waiting for tests, waiting for diagnosis, waiting for treatment. Repeat cycle. Anyway, it's been nearly 3 months and it's exhausting being frightened and/or trying not to be frightened. I'm not even 100% sure what I'm aiming the fear at anymore. I know it will get easier but if there was a fast forward option I might sleep a little easier.
I know I am lucky really. A helpful (not at all bloody helpful) nurse pointed out to me last week that I had 'won the cancer lottery' because lymphoma was 'the best one to get'. I am aware this is unlikely to end my life with any great speed and that IS tremendous news but I guess I need to accept that to feel good about it I might have to get through being bummed out first. It might take less time of course if I had enough of an attention span that I could work through the feelings instead of having them, thinking argh this feels awful and then promptly pushing them down. Still that is what I started my blog for in the first place. I'm not brave enough sometimes to say things out loud and I don't want to annoy the people I love by going on and on and on about cancer so I instead save it up and bring it here. A big pile of word vomit that makes me feel a little lighter each time I leave it in the internet.
