Tomorrow my Chemo starts – There are several things seriously wrong with that sentence.
Firstly MY chemo? – Im 34, I have MY gorgeous dresses, and MY beautiful babies, and MY somewhat excessive art stash …I should not have My Chemo, My cancer, My survival rate… these are belongings I do not want
Secondly Tomorrow – It cant be tomorrow, Im not sure im ready for this.
People have been so lovely to me over the last few months, lovely cards and gifts and hugs. Several people have said.. “You are so Brave”
But no, Im really not!
As I sit here tonight I don’t feel brave.. in all honesty I’m terrified. Tomorrow they will fill my body with toxicity. Stuff that although it will hopefully attack the cancer cells also has the potential to cause some pretty crappy side effects
I’m not ready for my life to be reduced to how I feel, if I’m throwing up, if I’ve got infection, if I’m exhausted. I don’t want to feel crappy for most of the cycle.
And as for personal changes – hell no! I never thought I was particularly vain..but the last 6 months or so I have become really comfortable in my own skin, I’m happy with my style, I feel me again. .yet in a few weeks I will probably start losing my hair.. not just on my head. .but my eyebrows, my eyelashes. How am I supposed to feel comfortable with that? Then my breasts too..ok so they are trying to kill me so right now they arent my favourite things. .and yes I know reconstruction is an option..but can you imagine the thought of not only looking so different but then coming to terms with losing a huge part of what makes me me?
I’m not ready, I’m not ready at all. I know it has to be done, and without being dramatic I also know my life depends on it. Dr Proctor sent through my oncology report today, the main lymph node lump is 6cm+ .. that feels huge.. I mean I knew it was, it looks huge but still.
Today was the first day I had it actually in front of me in black and white, the sizes of the tumours, the amount of them? The word “metasised”… “invasive”….
The treatment plan is there too.. simple and to the point – chemotherapy, bi lateral mastectomy, radiotherapy, hormone therapy, ovarian suppressant and removal. Shit..
That’s a lot, I know it’s needed and I would do it all through 100 times over if that’s what it took but tonight it’s just too scary. For me…for my future.. for my babies.
I don’t want them to see me ill, yet to be in their lives as long as I can be it has to happen.
Someone asked me if I was angry, not angry .. there is no one to be angry with but tonight I am terrified, and anxious, and a million other things that I can’t even put into words.
As I lay here in bed, the two youngest babies co-sleeping beside me all I can do is cry. Its not a pretty sight, my earlier perfect on point 50s eyeliner flicks now making their way down my face. I suppose I should be greatful i haven’t lost my hair yet, otherwise I would bear more than a passing resemblance to Uncle Fester.
I’m not brave, I’m doing this cos I have no choice. Tomorrow I will put on my big girl pants (trust me they ARE huge) and I’ll get on with this with a smile, gorgeous dress and a kick ass attitude.
But tonight – just for a little while – whilst I lay here in the quiet I’m going to allow myself to cry, to be totally shit scared and to feel very very sad.
Come join my pity party…and bring vodka…and cake