The last 48 hours have been both elating and gutting. This time yesterday morning I was sat with a lovely friend snotting for England because I was finally getting to grips with the fact that it's my cancer and I'll cry if I want to. Admittedly a lot of the tears were yet again bought on by guilt. I had read the specific book for the type of lymphoma I have on the lymphoma website and thanks to its wonderful news that basically this is a lifetime membership I was distraught and then so was my poor fiancé and the poor man sat up all night watching me sleep which is both touching and a little bit creepy murderer. I guess you can't have it all; he washes up and makes a lovely cup of tea, being a touch creepy murderer-esque is something I'll have to live with just like my ridiculous body.
The worry of the practicalities of all this is of course a factor. Insurances, mortgages, children, work, appointments, treatments. I was desperate to get things sorted and find out what I was facing. Waiting for the 18th seemed almost impossible and instead I was trying to decide the likelihood of chemotherapy. I'm already fair and ginger meaning my summers are spent more or less bathing in factor 50; I could do without having my entire head to cover too. Blimey and then I was thinking about how on earth I learn to draw on eyebrows! I'm sure someone will have created a YouTube video but still.
There is a bright side coming I promise...
Anyway so I then spent a good few hours lamenting the stupidity of the human body, because of course I haven't fallen out with that enough already! Why is it that my brain is as out of touch with modern life as a person attempting to invade a country using just some arrows and a dodgy looking homemade sword? I'm having gloriously inconvenient panic attacks and how does my body help? It thinks ah yes what will help you now is for me to restrict the blood flow to your extremities so you feel like they're about to spontaneously drop off because clearly you can only logically be panicking about the possibility of a tiger trying to eat you! Don't worry I'll save your hands! Cheers for that brain but actually if you could just have a word with my B Cells and tell them they've messed up that'd be infinitely more useful!
We can put people in space for no reason; we can fly across the world in a tin can; we can print in plastic and I can't even explain to my body that I appreciate its effort but it needs to be a bit less proud and accept this B Cell making malarky has gone a bit wrong. Don't get me wrong, I won't hold it against it. After all we've all been there. My nan once told me I couldn't use bubble bath in her jacuzzi tub and I quite innocently washed my hair in it and was horrified that there were so many bubbles I had to try and gather them up and push them out the window. If you've ever tried to round up bubbles you'll understand it's not an easy undertaking and not something I intend to repeat. All I want to do is tell my body they need to scrap this new funky design they've got going and stick to the old classics but sadly my brain is too busy looking for tigers.
I got through my day at work and went along to see my GP to explain to him what I have growing is indeed cancer so he can keep his ignorance for the time being. He apologised for screwing up with the referrals and I accepted mid rant about the chronic effects of NHL. I asked him for some melatonin and he refused. I was contemplating kicking him in the shin but I've heard people rarely agree to give you medication on those grounds. He did however redeem himself when he told me he got my CT scan back!
The splendid, elating, two fingers up to my naughty cells is that the CT scan was clear and this has the happy knock on effect that I will almost definitely not need a bone marrow biopsy. The lumps on my skin, newly growing and irritatingly spreading probably are cancer so I'll need to get those zapped and it might not stop it from coming back so I will need to make very good friends with the haematologist but in an unlucky group I am one of the very few lucky ones that found it before it was advanced and for that I am incredibly pleased. I also feel like a bit of a fraud. Yes I've got cancer but the immediate danger is basically 0 unless it transforms into the aggressive form. Yes I will probably get it again but maybe not, who knows If it does come back it could spread but again maybe it won't. Treatments are good and this is brilliant news. I'm compiling a new list of questions for the consultant and I am trying to be happy but I think it might take a while and a few lumpy-less months for me to relax a little more.
It is amazing news though (and I will continue to remind myself of that until I can cheer the hell up) and although my poor fiancé still can't sleep because he's sensitive and I'm a sarcastic pot of joy, today is his birthday and hopefully he might actually enjoy it now! In the meantime I am pleased that I got lymphoma over diabetes, as strange as that may sound because at least this way I get to keep my toes.
