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The Bald Woman's Blog: Part Four
Su Candy feels a failure after learning of her breast cancer diagnosis and gets used to the idea of telling people the news
June 27:
Friday morning. Last night husband Alan phoned everyone we could think of that needed to know my breast cancer diagnosis, because I still cannot form the words. I have asked temporarily to be left alone to reinforce my mental state quietly and I am not going to work today as my left breast looks like its been in a bad road traffic accident! It is swollen, painful and a large multi-coloured bruise has started to form.
On top of that, last night while having a long and hot shower (I think I was trying to cleanse my inside from this disease) my bomb-proof, watch-those-hairs-type dressing fell off, hotly pursued by the steri stitch. It seemed to epitomise life at the moment, lying there flat and useless blocking the drain hole!
My teenage daughter Laura has taken it really badly and is furious about my cancer news. It's not normal, doesn't feature in her plan in life and she cannot understand it at all. I know there will be trouble but can only handle the present just now. I spend a lot of time on the internet finding out about my condition and familiarising myself with words and techniques. Next time I want to understand it all and not be caught napping.
I want to keep my mind alert and full of as much knowledge as I can. I am always telling Laura that knowledge is power and to be one step ahead if you can. Now I am putting my own words into practice. It is time to be as practical as I can and I am very good at that.
A friend phones. It catches me slightly unaware but this is a good time to practise telling someone, so I start from there. We chat for quite a time and I mention the words breast and cancer both together – there, I have breast cancer – I've done it. I will be OK now to talk to anyone else.
My brother had already dropped by in the morning and we had a long chat together and laughed about life etc. It was the best thing that could have happened, talking to family is OK and, quite rightly, he should be the first one to speak to. Lots of reassuring stories are already coming my way. I feel exhausted emotionally and physically slightly battered. I have not slept well and the 4am gremlin managed to get me, but at least I do not have to go to work and pretend that all is well or re-live yesterday again.
Saturday June 28:
I can't seem to bring myself to go out, even though there is loads to do for the upcoming holiday and I have to send husband Alan out with shopping lists which as soon as he's gone, I realise, are incomplete.
Alan is like a jack-in-the-box all day and there are plenty of things to do. The holiday motorhome needs loading, bags need packing, clean the house (why do I do that before a holiday?) and lawn mowing. We are off on Monday as we think the change of scenery will be good and give us all some space. It's Center Parcs at Longleat and we are looking forward to it.
Sunday is spent in much the same way and I feel there is no point at all in worrying any more, as there is absolutely nothing that can be done now until I have the official results, which they will phone me with on Wednesday and make an appointment with the surgeon.
The consultant agreed that the holiday would be good and that no harm would come from delaying things by a few days. I think I can manage a holiday, then, and no-one wil know me there.
I don't want to see anyone I know. I don't know why. Somewhere inside me I feel I have failed at something. Allowed myself to become "ill" when there is so much to do. I have let my own body down by not looking after it and therefore I have let my family down, too.
Although deep down I know this is rubbish this I think is the first of many gremlins that will pursue me in an attempt to defeat me. With this deep set knowledge I will be able to defeat them one by one, I'm sure, but they are unpleasant and unwelcome thoughts that take some pushing away.
I feel constantly tired, but again I think it is a gremlin, my imagination and an attempt by the alien to make me think I'm ill.
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Friday 10 February 2012
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