Thought for the Day..

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I wondered if ladies might like a thread for a 'thought of the day' as something that has helped or is helping them through this journey.

It just occurred to me this morning in respect of the fear that comes along with being diagnosed with breast cancer and other people who haven't had it, but seem to think it's so easy ;) of something that I wish I had said to these people

When I was first diagnosed, I had a couple of close friends who had absolutely no understanding of the mental impact and said "oh such and such had that and they were fine" type thing.  My worry about it and any need for support was forgotten as soon as they had said it!

So, my thought of the day for people who have no understanding:

"Imagine you are stood on a cliff edge in a gale.  There is a 50% chance that a huge gust of wind will blow you over the cliff edge into the stormy sea below.  How would you feel stood there?" 

I think looking back, that this what I felt when diagnosed - the not knowing whether it would be ok or not and being told 'so and so was fine, blah, blah' was to me extremely annoying. But at the same time for someone who hasn't had cancer will try to come out with platitudes and can never really understand even if they want to- so this analogy would perhaps have helped them understand the fear that comes with being told you have cancer.

Anyone else have any 'thought for the day"?

  • FormerMember
    FormerMember

    I saw this as a post on Facebook and summed it up for me!!

    When you can't control what's happening, challenge yourself to control the way you respond to what it happening.  

    That is where your power is.

  • This one is sometimes helpful to me. Having a look back over my shoulder and seeing how far up the mountain I've managed to climb can help me keep going.

    Karen 

  • I love the idea of this 'Thought for the day'.  I do think these type of thoughts help us get through each day.  

    My sister-in-law said to a family member the other week that I was 'lucky' that I'd only had to have a lumpectomy - her friend had had to have a mastectomy.  Now seriously, I mean no offence to any of our Fruit Loops reading this that have had or are having a mastectomy.  Me to you - of course I am, but, to have a sister-in-law use the words that I am 'lucky' well, it just floored me, my sister-in-law!! To hear those words you have BC is the same for all of us, at this point we don't know that is ahead of us, we don't know anything about it - the treatment comes into our minds afterwords.  For me and for most my thoughts were 'get this out of me'.  

    (I was going to delete the above as its not relevant to this thread, but, I've decided to leave on, I feel better for saying this).

    So, tonight to finish with something a little lighted hearted .....


    Sweet Dreams everyone - Nighty Night xx

    I'm hoping this makes sense - only my mind says one thing and my fingers type whatever they like x
  • Great "Thoughts of the Day" so far. :)

    Anyone want to add new ones today?

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  • My sister also thinks a positive perspective on everything is helpful. So at 62 I am "lucky to get a tummy tuck and boob job for free". I know she means well but all I have ever wanted is for her to put her arms around me and let me know that she understands how crappy everything is. Unlike you WhatHappened, it is my sister-in-law who has done that. Hey Ho :-D

    Ann

    Diagnosis of 2 tumours in left breast June 2017. Mastectomy with DIEP reconstruction in August 2017 (Royal Marsden) with full lymph node removal. 4 X EC and 4 X Tax chemo (Reading Spire). 15 X radiotherapy (Windsor Genesis). Finished invasive treatment June 2018. Took Anastrazole for a couple of months but had lots of pain in finger joints. On Tamoxifen for a while then going to try Exemestane.

  • This poem was on a Facebook group. I found it really helpful as I can never find the words to explain how I feel. It's a bit long so hope the system can cope!

    They said to go home.

    They said the scans look fine, your body will recover, you don’t need to be here anymore.

    They said to go home.

    They said, “we don’t know if it will come back, but it very well might. Until then there’s not much we can do.”

    They said, “go on and live your life.” Take a breath, take a nap, maybe even take a vacation. Go back to your jobs, back to your hobbies, back to laundry, dishes, and paying the bills. Spend time with your family, meet a friend for lunch, catch a movie with your loved ones. Take a day to do absolutely nothing.

    It sounded nice when they said to go home.

    So we went home.

    But the home we went back to wasn’t as familiar as we thought.

    The paint was the same color and the furniture was in place, but it didn’t feel like the same home. Our thoughts, feelings, and interests had all changed. Our relationships, jobs, and bodies felt so much different.

    They said to go home, so we tried to go home, but it didn’t feel like home.

    We felt lost. It was as if we had been on a path, kidnapped somewhere in the middle, turned around 20 times, and set off in a new direction. We didn’t know which way was up or down, left or right. We were in a new place, stranded in the desert- abandoned, desolate and lonely.

    They said to go home.

    But home was out of reach. The home we knew didn’t exist anymore. We wandered around for awhile before trying to build a new home. But the new home crumbled and cracked, forcing us to repair, rebuild, or start completely over.

    They said to go home.

    But they didn’t understand. After seeing thousands of patients in this position, they still didn’t understand. It looked so simple from their perspective. Go home, go back to your life, pretend that cancer never came.

    But we couldn’t go home.

    Our souls were altered on the deepest level. Our hearts were shattered, our minds were chaos, and our bodies hurt. They couldn’t see it.

    But then we saw others. “Do you know where you are going?” we asked.

    “No, I feel rather lost,” they would say. “But you are welcome to join, and we can pave a new path together.”

    In that moment, though we were all still lost, we felt a glimpse of home. Our hearts connected and friendships formed on the simplest notion of being aimless wanderers together.

    “Your thoughts and feelings make sense given all that you’ve been through. Others may not understand, but I can see, because I’ve walked a similar path.”

    “You belong here.”

    Our hearts began to relax. We took a deep breath of fresh air.

    They said to come home.

    Ann

    Diagnosis of 2 tumours in left breast June 2017. Mastectomy with DIEP reconstruction in August 2017 (Royal Marsden) with full lymph node removal. 4 X EC and 4 X Tax chemo (Reading Spire). 15 X radiotherapy (Windsor Genesis). Finished invasive treatment June 2018. Took Anastrazole for a couple of months but had lots of pain in finger joints. On Tamoxifen for a while then going to try Exemestane.

  • Thought for the day....

    The way people treat you tells you far more about their attitude, than it says about yours :)

    G n' J

  • Thankyou this fits my feelings beautifully. Made me cry but it's good to cry sometimes xxx

  • Cancer is a word not a sentence  xxxx 

    You may have to fight a battle more than once to win it 

  • Our beloved daughter crept up to the bedroom and wrote a note to me that I will keep for ever when she heard about my diagnosis (she too has been through cancer, hers was a long long illness, see my profile for info) 

    ‘Moomy, you will get through this, we are strong people in our family, and will be with you every step of the way’, made me cry a bit then and just has done again. 

    Hugs xxx

    Moomy