This month marks two years since my surgery for breast cancer.
It’s quite a landmark and in many ways feel still very recent. In August I had my first repeat mammogram., 2 years on from the routine check that discovered my cancer. I waited with bated breath for the results. This period of trying to be positive but a constant niggle of what if is known as scanxiety. They said results would take 3 weeks. On the last day of the 3rd week still no results.
This is when the scanxiety goes off the chart. In my head if it was all clear I would have heard by now and the fact that I haven’t is because the results have gone to multi-disciplinary team and they are having to slot me in to clinic. Make no mistake all this and more goes on in my head in the early hours and no matter how much my positive Petunia says it will be ok. After a couple of sleepless nights, I get up to find a letter on the doormat. Waits…opens… the results of your recent mammogram were satisfactory. Exhales, phew, thank goodness for that. I let everyone know and all is good. My mind is put at rest.
It takes a day or two before I pick up the letter again. Something is niggling in the back of my brain. Satisfactory. Why not ‘all clear’ or ‘cancer free’ The rational part of me supported by Petunia, says don’t be so pedantic. This is good news, no further action, apart from annual oncology checks and continued hormone therapy for another 4 years. Negative Norma though, is going full on scanxiety. Why ‘just satisfactory’ ‘it’s been really painful a couple of times this week, is there something sinister going on’ it can be quite relentless and exhausting. It’s more in my nature to be positive but even for me sometimes it’s just hard. I say the right things to myself but sometimes it’s just challenging
It’s been two years. If people ask me how I am, chances are, I will just say fine, going on well etc. it’s just easier and honestly I’m sick of hearing myself say it, so others must be too. Please don’t think I asking for you all to join my personal pity party. Saying it, is me trying to believe it.
The thing is, the after effects of cancer are pervading, just like the disease itself. Apart from the physical parts of me that are gone, it does feel like an essential little bit of me has gone too, or at least it’s hiding away. I guess this is the emotional scar, just as prominent and niggly as the physical scars. I know I have a lot of work to do on acceptance. Not least accepting that whilst my treatment does have some unpleasant side effects, it’s doing a job of stopping the cancer returning or metastasing. I also know I have so much to be thankful for. An early diagnosis, prompt treatment, getting through a bout of Covid, a supportive workplace, a negative mammogram not forgetting amazing family and friends.
So it’s time to embrace the new chubbier, wonkier, me. Sensible shoes, non wired bras, wobbly teeth, crumbly bones, grey hair and comfy clothes. To be accepting of what I am able to do rather than what I can’t. To ask for help when I need it and rest before my body forces me to.
A phrase I see used a lot is:
You never know what someone is going through, so be kind.
Footnote:
For any of my friends going through ‘stuff’ know that I will be here for you, if you need to offload just as many of you have been for me. It’s not a competition. We all struggle in different ways. A listening ear and some well intended, if ineffective platitudes followed by some gentle piss taking can be more powerful than any of us realise. Don’t suffer in silence.
