I've lost count of the number of times I've been called brave, since I began this nightmare journey.
I'm always left deeply discomfitted. Even though I'm not sure why.
In the face of a bilateral breast cancer diagnosis...
Is it brave to listen to the medical professional's advice, even when I'm not a fan of the medical model?
Is it brave to accept the treatment plan, even when I wonder if it's the right thing to do?
Is it brave to choose not to use the cold cap because I can't imagine 16 rounds of chemo, whilst freezing my head off, in the hope of keeping some of my hair?
Is it brave to accept that I have to cut my much cherished bum length African locs (before the shave), as the weight of them may damage my chemo weakened hair follicles?
Is it brave to elect to have my final breast removed?
Is it brave to go for daily walks, because I know it does me good, even when my chemo ravaged body says no!?
Is it brave to still care about my appearance and dress as becomingly as I can?
Is it brave to find suitable ways to style my newly shorn locs to suit my face?
Is it brave to go out socially because I need a break from cancer treatment and because I'm still me?
Is it brave to go to bed each night, hopefully get some sleep and wake the next day still in this cancer nightmare and do it all again?
The fact is, cancer and its treatment is a nightmare journey, none of us would ever choose to begin.
Once we've been handed that dreaded diagnosis, what actual choice do we have?
I am not brave. I just choose life.
