Tag Archives: emotions

Cancer free?

How can I feel cancer free when every time I look in the mirror, I see a cancer patient. Chemotherapy is cruel in so many ways but the way it lingers on is so bloody frustrating.

I realised this weekend I am already sick of my hats, and the scarfs are just too complicated some days. The reality is I could be like this for months yet.

Do I get a wig?

Do I order more hats?

Is there a magic hair growing serum?

I just want to be normal again. I know I have to be patient, but it is so hard and frustrating and paralysing and grrrrrr

Don’t worry I’m okay, I just needed a rant and….. I’ve ordered more hats.

Ax

Treatment 1: The aftermath

So far so good. It’s only day 3, so I’m not getting too excited yet. I feel very chemical……. I’m excreting it, exhaling it and crying it. I can feel it everywhere.

I am going to describe something that will likely make me sound a bit crazy but bear with me, it’s just because I am a visual person…..

A few weeks ago, I described to a friend about how antibiotics are like a little cleaner man, running around your body, sweeping germs out of the corners. Well….. if that was my analogy, then chemotherapy is like having an army inside you. They have guns, tear gas, grenades and other chemical warfare. They are running, ducking and weaving. Diving and rolling. Searching and searching.

I am not a person who believes in war, except in this case. My body is at war and I am encouraging those soldiers to get the job done. Find any little runaway cells, the rouges and defectors and kill them dead, in whichever manner they need to.

From the outside, I am still looking and feeling ok. A bit bloated from steroids and tired looking, but I am getting on with my days. The macrame orders are coming along nicely and I am resting when needed. I managed a 20 minute walk last night.

More than anything I am staying positive. This little blip in the road will not get me down. It will make me stronger. Cancer, you picked the wrong person to mess with.

But, I’m not going to pretend I feel this positive all the time. I had a moment last night, where I suddenly felt acutely aware not only of the chemicals inside me, but of the tissue I’ve lost. I shed a few tears. It was the first time I’ve mourned the part of me that is gone forever.

I haven’t written about the surgery I chose, simply because I believe everyone should make their own decisions. Every breast cancer, the circumstances surrounding it and the person fighting it, are different. I would not want to sway anyone. My choice and reasonings, belong only to me. I have alluded to it along the way, but I won’t share the complete details on this forum (happy to talk or private message though).

Anyway, I’m all good and just plodding along gently.

Ax

The emotions

This one might be longer…..

So right now, I am in a phase of healing. It’s physical right? There are cuts and bruises, wounds and drains. But, it would be silly to think there isn’t a big emotional part to healing.

The Breast Care nurse told me, there will be tears on day 3, that’s when the emotional toll rears its head. I thought….. nah I’m different, I’m not emotional about my boobs. At least that part was true (or has been so far). The emotions came, but it was for something entirely different and very unexpected.

At 3am on Friday (day 3, albeit only just) I woke up with a start. I immediately started to cry. I had a sudden realisation…… to explain it, I have to go back and tell you a few things. Many will know these, others……. well what can I say, soon you will know everything about me!!!!

For many years, I have suffered with anxiety. I’ve had all kinds of treatment; psychologists, medication, strategy plans (one of which is writing). Time and time again the people I spoke to said…… you need to find your trauma. At least two said, it is a childhood trauma.

Sorry just had to stop writing for a cry…. (BTW it is 2:49am two days after the first outburst).

I could never figure it out. I had a good childhood, I grew up supported and loved. I got to play the sports I wanted (although sometimes limited by asthma). I ate well. I swam and I swam. Granted, we were the last people in the street to get a CD player but hey…. that couldn’t be it. All of these are Australia memories, I didn’t really have memories of living in New Zealand (in hindsight, that should have been a clue).

Here’s the interesting bit….

On Tuesday night, I had a terrible time. My asthma flared. I was flat on my back, had little movement, didn’t have the drugs I would normally use and I just could not breathe. I was absolutely terrified.

Bam 💥

It had to happen again for me to see it. There was my trauma right there. I was and therefore am, absolutely terrified of not being able to control my breathing.

As a child, I must have constantly been in this state. As it turns out, I was a very sick little girl. I did know that, but the extent to which, I had completely blocked out. Moving to Australia at 8 years old not only served to provide drastic improvement to my health but it was the perfect place for my little brain to build a wall and lock all of that terror away.

I never processed it. I never grew from it. And it held me back big time.

I’ve had two days to chat to Mum, Dad and my sister. We have shared memories and there has been a lot of ‘Ohhhhhhh, that makes sense now’. It has been a beautiful time for all of us.

I now know, this journey will heal so much. I even wonder if breast cancer could turn out to be the best thing that ever happened to me?

THAT SOUNDS CRAZY but already, it is setting me free.

A (2.0) x