I want somewhere to crawl into, it must be dark and enclosed. And just for me. The rest of the world Is not welcome.
The meeting was every bit as difficult as I thought it was going to be. I'm not angry with my consultant or nursey, I'm frustrated with me. What I wanted went down like a lead balloon, I knew it would do. I don't doubt for one second that the MDT are clinically right about the lumpectomies and radiotherapy but I'm not happy. Nursey came up with a contingency plan. If anything of concern shows up on the next mammogram/MRI, no more endless biopsies and scans, straight bilateral mastectomy. And to help me get my head around it, she's referred me to a psychologist. I know a few psychologists. It's going to be an interesting experience.
Then something odd happened. I just about held it together with nursey but as soon as I got in the car, the floodgates opened. I've had the odd snivel since I was diagnosed but after tonight's meeting I couldn't stop. I bawled so much on the M48 that by the time I got to the Severn bridge, I couldn't see to get my card in the toll machine. I thought, I'd get some wine but when I got to Tesco, I had red golf balls for eyes, I didn't fancy getting out of the car. I'm usually a very happy hermit but coming home to the empty house tonight was horrible. I'm so tired, I have no more fight. And no Pinot Grigio (don't start, I know I've given up).
Time to focus on my lovely fabric stash and making some groovy bags. So my cave's not made of stone, it might not have a boulder but it's got a lock. I'm going in.
