I don't think I'd appreciated until today how far I'd come in terms of both knowledge and emotion on the whole subject of cancer, me and all that goes with it. Three months ago none of this had happened and I was going about my life none the wiser that I was growing rebel forces in my body. I could have gone on that way until it spread and I started to feel the symptoms but instead it was caught early and I started my journey of being that one out of three people that has cancer at some point.
When I finally took the plunge and told people yesterday I took the cowards way out and sent a message because the thought of having to ring a dozen of my nearest and dearest and have the 'so...I've got cancer' conversation on a loop all evening filled me with dread. It's not fun and I have far nicer ways to spend my evening so that's that!
I made it very clear that there was nothing to worry about right now, because I'm confident that there isn't and that I wasn't telling them for any reason other than that they are my friends, I see them as reguarly as I can and even I think it would be even worse to leave it a couple more months and then drop it in conversation like I'm telling them what I ate for breakfast.
When I found out, I was in shock and I either refused to talk about it, panicked or I cried. In fact even up until Sunday that was still pretty much my go to response but this time it was different. I do appreciate that this was only yesterday so there's plenty of time for me to find another suspicious vein and freak out but I have a feeling that I won't be so quick to go there now. It's probably both good and bad, but the words don't scare me anymore.
So yes, there I was juggling a few conversations with some of the people I have known and loved maybe half my life, maybe more (which isn't really that long since I'm only 26 but that's still decent for me). The weird thing is that even while repeating the facts over and over - it's incurable but manageable; it might stay dormant; I might have to go on the active watch and wait list; I will see the haematologist a lot; I have to get bits of me zapped by a f**k off big x ray; my cells have messed up and are multiplying in a way that's not helpful; it's not that common; no one knows what causes it; in 10% of cases it'll transform into an aggresive form of the disease...none of it shifted me into panic or tears of despair. Rather than crying or becoming emotional when people called me to talk about it I was calm, collected and doing my best to tell them it wasn't half as bad as it could be!
A few of my friends have offered to let me talk to them about it but isn't that just because you're supposed to say it? I know they love me, I wouldn't have told them if I didn't believe that but I mean surely pulling them into it is just mean. Anyway, I can't use up all the good will now. I'd be screwed if I got really sick!
Either I've accepted it and it's making the first baby steps into being part of me. I have asthma, I'm a coeliac, I have lymphoma *shrug* so what?! I've also got ginger hair, an over sized love of penguins and the inability to think before I speak - it's all just part of the package. Or, I'm just focused on the fact I'm getting radiotherapy and convincing myself that'll be it and it'll never come back. I imagine it's a bit of both.
I'm starting to set myself little tasks rather than trying to take it on in one go and overwhelming myself. I'm going to get the stupid cells zapped, then I'll start looking at the practicalities of life regarding mortgages, insurance and all that boring financial stuff that HairyPants makes me take charge of. To be fair he is in charge of everything that requires common sense and fixes the things I accidentally break quite frequently so I suppose I had to take some of the jobs! I even managed to walk INTO my bedroom door last night. It was closed. I hit my head and I hit it hard! I was not impressed to find that even with enough speed I'll never be Harry Potter; I'm sure that door was meant to disappear so I could be whisked away to a magical land but no, just my house and a new bump to add to my collection.
I've told my manager that I'll be skipping off for radiotherapy in the next few weeks. I have no idea whether I'll still be at work or not. They seem to think I'll not be able to cope with work but I think I'll need to see how it goes and find out how bad the whole fatigue thing is. I don't want to fall asleep at my desk (still haven't told the people I manage so I think they might think I just had a massive hangover) but the thought of going off sick because I can't stay awake seems a bit rubbish too. I am basically a rubbish patient I think!
In my defence I was bought up in a family of nurses. Unless something was about to fall off and you were bleeding profusely there was no way you were going to get off school with permission. I was as accident prone then as I am now so I was the child sent to school with two broken arms (not at the same time. I rode a bicycle into a car and hit a building), a cracked head (a plastic plant pot fell on it), a fractured wrist (I ran into a wall. Not even a joke), concussion (I pulled a TV off a wardrobe on to my head) and a split leg (a horse galloped onto it when I went flying off him on a ride). They even had to send me home once because my mum didn't see why I'd have to wait for the plaster to set before I went back to school, so I grew up with a pretty decent work ethic.
I am aware it occasionally goes too far the other way though and that's where I think I'm not sure. I went into work after I was hospitalised in December because I thought I'd had a stroke. I know I'm the one that calls for disaster watch when she finds her jugular vein but I think this was one of those occasions where it's OK to panic. I woke up with a blinding headache, realised I could only feel half my body and I'd gone completely blind. Have you ever tried to get out of bed when only half of your body is willing to go with the instructions you're giving it? It's not easy. I've seen the adverts - I was definitely convinced I was dying.
As it turns out I just had a really bizarre migraine and couldn't see anything properly for a week but there was me, as soon as I was released from hospital off my tits on prescribed painkillers wobbling into work like it was the most sensible move. My lovely friend an another manager quite sensibly sent me home and Hairy refused to let me back to work until I could prove I could see. In retrospect that seems like a really sensible thing but that the time I thought they were all seriously over-reacting. If I'm not panicking why is anyone else basically!?
I guess time will tell with this new adventure.
Anyway on a non-cancer related note today Hairy and I went to our first wedding show. Oh good lord don't they want to sell you a load of crap!? I had to wonder who the hell they were selling the cardboard carriages for your table, the bean bag stands and the calligraphy signs for the loo to. Are people really so crazy when they get married that they just think anything remotely wedding themed will do? Wow...so that's another new topic to get my head around. Move over cancer, I've got to work out how to feed and entertain 60 of my loved ones without accidentally buying them a trip on a 3 legged donkey in the reception just because they stick a 'we're at a wedding' sign on it.
I did a lot of polite smiling, rolling of eyes and poking Hairy to tell him I'd found another thing I definitely don't want at our wedding. I also saw some nice things too so it wasn't a total waste. At some point soon I'll get geared up for playing the bride but it's not a role I'm very comfortable in.
Ramble over though. Things are good right now and I intend to enjoy it for as long as I can :)
