Normality creeps in

Oct 25, 2013

I'm back at the leisure centre two weeks on from the first post. Child No 1 is doing gymnastics and boy child is on the iPad. Normal. Ross is with me and the world has shifted on its axis.

There’s been a hint of normality today. I enjoyed it. But I have a feeling there’s going to be far fewer days like it. There was also some not so normal bits.

I had lots of hugs from friends on the school run. There was a few tears, but I reminded them that “I’m not dead!” I also said I would be requesting hugs often.

I went to Pilates and told my teacher that today would be my last class for a while. I’ve been really enjoying them so may go back for the odd session as and when I feel up to it.

Then it was the dentist. See? Normal things! This is what normal people do! As I was walking round town, I felt like running up to random strangers going about their normal business and saying “Don’t you know? Can’t you see? I’ve got Breast Cancer.” Mentalist.

Then it was lunch at the Orange Tree. Again. Normal.

A call from the hospital was next to arrange a CT scan. Not your everyday occurrence. That’s now booked for next Tuesday.

Then it was a 15 minute call with my GP. Who called me. That’s not really normal is it? It’s generally quite hard to get in touch with a GP. And she’s told me she’s going to get one of the asthma nurses to give me a call as she wants me to get me to have a flu jab before my first operation, and ensure my asthma is ok and the rest of me is on top form before they start taking me apart to put me back together. I tried to make an appointment at the beginning of October. But the soonest they could give me was 7th November. Magically, that’s going to be brought forward.

I read something, or was told something somewhere but I can’t remember where or who. Its regarding treating cancer and it didn’t seem relevant at the time. It was “it takes a year of your life to get your life back”. I’m 36 years old. I’ve got a small family who need me, so I keep telling them, so if it takes a year to do this, I’ll do it. I’ll take it head on and fight all the way. The alternative is just too horrible.

Here’s a few statistics for you:

  • 1 in 8 women will be diagnosed with cancer in their life.
  • 2 in 10 of these women will be under 50.
  • In 2010, 136 women were told they had breast cancer on any given day. (135 women are now going through the same thing as me 48 hours after being told the devastating news.)

Cancer, do one. You’re not claiming me.