In the pit of despair that was last week, the temple of peace at the bottom of my garden seemed as remote as the Himalayas.
Then something odd happened last Sunday. I got up and something felt distinctly different but I couldn't put a finger on it. I had a shower and then it dawned on me; I felt well. Not only was I not in pain, I felt positively perky. Monday came and again, I felt, like me. I felt like me! I hadn't felt like this since last year. It was like waking up after an awfully long vivid nightmare. It didn't matter that it was raining or that my hair looked like a bird's nest, or even that I hadn't done the shopping. I had found hope.
Hope is a wonderful thing. It makes the dark days easier to get through and has a way of tapping into stores of energy that you never knew you had. For the first time in months I did some gentle cleaning, what's more I actually enjoyed it (I think the skirting boards were singing in relief too). Even the persistent hole in my suture line isn't enough to bring down my mood.
And the best thing of all? I can sleep again. Most nights I'm back to seven or eight hours. Absolute, unadulterated heaven. I don't want to put the mockers on it and say it's here to stay but while it's back I'm going to make the most of it and rot in bed.
Next week I have appointments to discuss the whipping out of my ovaries and the whipping off of the boobs. I'm quite excited, to me they're an opportunity to start a new phase of life, one that will give me peace of mind. I know it'll be a couple of sessions under the knife but I'm looking over the rainbow.
Here I fall down on my knees, I fear I must make a confession; I have turned to the dark side. I have forsaken my sewing for a crochet hook. Whilst on a sabbatical from the shed and browsing the internet from my pit on Sunday morning, in a moment of weakness I ordered some fabulous chunky yarn. The challenge of a cheerful crocodile blanket to huddle under during the cold winter months was too much of a temptation. In a few weeks' time, as soon as my blanket is finished, I'll put my mountaineering boots back on and head off to the temple in the garden. I've made some pressies already but with Christmas not that far away, the stock of bags needs replenishing. The next few months is going to be busy!
Whatever cancer throws your way, we’re right there with you.
We’re here to provide physical, financial and emotional support.
© Macmillan Cancer Support 2025 © Macmillan Cancer Support, registered charity in England and Wales (261017), Scotland (SC039907) and the Isle of Man (604). Also operating in Northern Ireland. A company limited by guarantee, registered in England and Wales company number 2400969. Isle of Man company number 4694F. Registered office: 3rd Floor, Bronze Building, The Forge, 105 Sumner Street, London, SE1 9HZ. VAT no: 668265007