World Cancer Day. Again. My fourth anniversary of the day I started blogging.
I thought I’d better not break with tradition (despite my blogging platform being extremely quiet the last few months) and get something out today. Something to join in with our #CancerRealityCheck thunderclap. Something to remember the people who’ve died from cancer, something to observe the people living with cancer, something to mark the people affected by cancer. Ah, that would be all of us, then.
Someone said to me the other day ‘I’ve lost count of the people I know who’ve died from cancer’. This person wasn’t trying to be unkind or dismissive; for them it was a fact, an example of how cancer affects all of us so very much. But when I thought about what that meant - especially for me – it felt very different indeed.
What if I’d died from cancer? What if I was one of those people that person had lost count of? What would that mean for the significance of my life? What would that mean for my children? My husband? Do you think they’d have forgotten me too? That the memory of me would’ve faded along with all those other poor people who didn’t matter and who, in fact, weren’t even a number anymore?
Imagine that! Not even a number!
Another friend died. I could say all those things I said last time a friend died about how vibrant, how beautiful, how funny and how clever she was. I could talk about the time we were hatching plans for survival and christened ourselves ‘Breaking Mad’. I could talk about how much she is missed and always will be but wouldn’t that just be the same old same old? Cancer strikes again. Cancer takes again. Cancer kills. Again and again and again.
There is no light or laughter to this blog post. This is what #CancerRealityCheck is about. Forget your pink ribbons, your yellow cupcakes and your green painted face. Don’t tell me where you leave your handbag or what colour your bra is or how long you’re going to grow your moustache unless you really, truly want to think about how cancer affects you and everyone around you.
This is how it has affected me…
I was diagnosed with breast cancer when I was 42. My children were 7 and 9. I had a single mastectomy which removed two aggressive tumours and my left breast. I had a reconstruction at the same time as my surgery, followed by 18 weeks of chemotherapy and three weeks of radiotherapy. I lost my hair, I put on three stone, I lost my self confidence, self belief and self esteem. I suffer anxiety that I never previously suffered and constantly battle with my weight. I take a deep breath every time I leave the house and am becoming increasingly less sociable because finding the energy I need to commit to seeing people leaves me exhausted for days. I am paranoid. I wonder if people actually like me or if they just feel sorry for me. I relentlessly question my relationship with my husband and assume he will leave me. I always question my parenting skills, I've got lists coming out of my ears and I can’t stand it when people drop in to see me without warning – I’m not ready for them – I’m never ready for them.
This is just the very thin end of the wedge. I haven’t mentioned how I haven’t been able to write anything except this blog (and writing runs through my veins), how PTSD has made me suspicious of everyone, how at some point I’ll have to have further surgery because my reconstruction has reacted to the radiotherapy and my left breast now looks like a prune and is always painful.
There’s more! There’s so much more! But then you start to think I’m just feeling sorry for myself and why on earth aren’t I being the brave warrior most cancer fighters are? Don’t get me started on that one. Don’t tell me my friend didn’t fight hard enough.
Cancer completely changed me. Cancer completely changed the lives of my children and my husband. None of them signed up for this. None of them deserve it. Sometimes, in my less self-hating moods, I think perhaps I don’t deserve it either.
So this is my #CancerRealityCheck for #WorldCancerDay2018.
Have you lost count of all the people you know who are affected by cancer? I haven’t. And I never will.
Find me on Twitter or Instagram @Baldybitesback
I thought I’d better not break with tradition (despite my blogging platform being extremely quiet the last few months) and get something out today. Something to join in with our #CancerRealityCheck thunderclap. Something to remember the people who’ve died from cancer, something to observe the people living with cancer, something to mark the people affected by cancer. Ah, that would be all of us, then.
Someone said to me the other day ‘I’ve lost count of the people I know who’ve died from cancer’. This person wasn’t trying to be unkind or dismissive; for them it was a fact, an example of how cancer affects all of us so very much. But when I thought about what that meant - especially for me – it felt very different indeed.
What if I’d died from cancer? What if I was one of those people that person had lost count of? What would that mean for the significance of my life? What would that mean for my children? My husband? Do you think they’d have forgotten me too? That the memory of me would’ve faded along with all those other poor people who didn’t matter and who, in fact, weren’t even a number anymore?
Imagine that! Not even a number!
Another friend died. I could say all those things I said last time a friend died about how vibrant, how beautiful, how funny and how clever she was. I could talk about the time we were hatching plans for survival and christened ourselves ‘Breaking Mad’. I could talk about how much she is missed and always will be but wouldn’t that just be the same old same old? Cancer strikes again. Cancer takes again. Cancer kills. Again and again and again.
There is no light or laughter to this blog post. This is what #CancerRealityCheck is about. Forget your pink ribbons, your yellow cupcakes and your green painted face. Don’t tell me where you leave your handbag or what colour your bra is or how long you’re going to grow your moustache unless you really, truly want to think about how cancer affects you and everyone around you.
This is how it has affected me…
I was diagnosed with breast cancer when I was 42. My children were 7 and 9. I had a single mastectomy which removed two aggressive tumours and my left breast. I had a reconstruction at the same time as my surgery, followed by 18 weeks of chemotherapy and three weeks of radiotherapy. I lost my hair, I put on three stone, I lost my self confidence, self belief and self esteem. I suffer anxiety that I never previously suffered and constantly battle with my weight. I take a deep breath every time I leave the house and am becoming increasingly less sociable because finding the energy I need to commit to seeing people leaves me exhausted for days. I am paranoid. I wonder if people actually like me or if they just feel sorry for me. I relentlessly question my relationship with my husband and assume he will leave me. I always question my parenting skills, I've got lists coming out of my ears and I can’t stand it when people drop in to see me without warning – I’m not ready for them – I’m never ready for them.
This is just the very thin end of the wedge. I haven’t mentioned how I haven’t been able to write anything except this blog (and writing runs through my veins), how PTSD has made me suspicious of everyone, how at some point I’ll have to have further surgery because my reconstruction has reacted to the radiotherapy and my left breast now looks like a prune and is always painful.
There’s more! There’s so much more! But then you start to think I’m just feeling sorry for myself and why on earth aren’t I being the brave warrior most cancer fighters are? Don’t get me started on that one. Don’t tell me my friend didn’t fight hard enough.
Cancer completely changed me. Cancer completely changed the lives of my children and my husband. None of them signed up for this. None of them deserve it. Sometimes, in my less self-hating moods, I think perhaps I don’t deserve it either.
So this is my #CancerRealityCheck for #WorldCancerDay2018.
Have you lost count of all the people you know who are affected by cancer? I haven’t. And I never will.
Find me on Twitter or Instagram @Baldybitesback