Cancer Diary - Part 9
Sep. 11th, 2018 11:58 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dyllanneDidn't sleep all that well on Saturday night (couldn't get comfy and woke up early). I also had indigestion which I needed to take Gaviscon for for the first time in well over a year. I think it was a reflux rebound from the Ranitidine. By Sunday night I was feeling shattered, so I had a more settled night.
On Monday I phoned up my GP to get a sick note and decided that I absolutely needed to get some fresh air. So I walked nice and slowly round to the surgery and back again before taking up residence on the couch again to watch loads of Arrow. Elizabeth came round in the evening with some rolls of paper for spirographs and a scented candle. That'll stop me running out of supplies. Still taking some paracetamol/ibuprofen, but not so many. And it's not because it's agony, just because I can feel the deep low level ache.
On Tuesday I took a walk round to Morrison's for some fancy fruit and to see if he could repair a bag strap. He couldn't so now I have an excuse to go up the town tomorrow.
Some friends on facebook have been remarking on my positivity during this adventure. And I think it comes down to Pollyanna. This is a book that was on my grandmother's approved list of reading. There weren't many things on there, as she wasn't a reader and disapproved of a lot of things that weren't Christian enough. I'm not a Pollyanna and my friends will find this hilarious because they know how cynical I can be. I also do not identify as an optimist, I'm a realist. But Pollyanna tried to find something to be glad about in every bad situation and I've been applying that principle rigorously to my recent health misfortune.
Yes it's cancer, yes I have had to have an operation, yes I'll be having radiotherapy and yes I'll be taking Tamoxifen for five years. But it was a very tiny early stage cancer, the operation was straight forward and I have no other health concerns that would have made it difficult or risky. I only had cancer for about a month before it was removed so I haven't even had time to acquire the "woman with cancer" label. The radiotherapy will only be an inconvenience for three weeks and yes I'll have to take the tamoxifen, but even that isn't forever and I was already perimenopausal anyway. I haven't lost my breast, I won't be having chemo and by Christmas it'll all be over. I do have a lot to be glad about. I have also been looked after by the best medical people in the world and cared for in the best medical system in the world.
Don't get me wrong, I have had a few wobbly moments, mostly when walking up the road or on the subway, but I just practice mindfulness and remind myself that there's nothing functionally wrong with me. I can still breath and eat and walk and see and hear and talk and draw and write and do all the ordinary things that are enjoyable in life. This is just a blip and to be honest I've been blessed to get this far in life without any major health issues before. I am very fortunate and it's easy to be positive when you're so lucky.
Also what else am I going to do? It's not possible to cry for weeks on end. You've just got to woman up and get on with things.
On Monday I phoned up my GP to get a sick note and decided that I absolutely needed to get some fresh air. So I walked nice and slowly round to the surgery and back again before taking up residence on the couch again to watch loads of Arrow. Elizabeth came round in the evening with some rolls of paper for spirographs and a scented candle. That'll stop me running out of supplies. Still taking some paracetamol/ibuprofen, but not so many. And it's not because it's agony, just because I can feel the deep low level ache.
On Tuesday I took a walk round to Morrison's for some fancy fruit and to see if he could repair a bag strap. He couldn't so now I have an excuse to go up the town tomorrow.
Some friends on facebook have been remarking on my positivity during this adventure. And I think it comes down to Pollyanna. This is a book that was on my grandmother's approved list of reading. There weren't many things on there, as she wasn't a reader and disapproved of a lot of things that weren't Christian enough. I'm not a Pollyanna and my friends will find this hilarious because they know how cynical I can be. I also do not identify as an optimist, I'm a realist. But Pollyanna tried to find something to be glad about in every bad situation and I've been applying that principle rigorously to my recent health misfortune.
Yes it's cancer, yes I have had to have an operation, yes I'll be having radiotherapy and yes I'll be taking Tamoxifen for five years. But it was a very tiny early stage cancer, the operation was straight forward and I have no other health concerns that would have made it difficult or risky. I only had cancer for about a month before it was removed so I haven't even had time to acquire the "woman with cancer" label. The radiotherapy will only be an inconvenience for three weeks and yes I'll have to take the tamoxifen, but even that isn't forever and I was already perimenopausal anyway. I haven't lost my breast, I won't be having chemo and by Christmas it'll all be over. I do have a lot to be glad about. I have also been looked after by the best medical people in the world and cared for in the best medical system in the world.
Don't get me wrong, I have had a few wobbly moments, mostly when walking up the road or on the subway, but I just practice mindfulness and remind myself that there's nothing functionally wrong with me. I can still breath and eat and walk and see and hear and talk and draw and write and do all the ordinary things that are enjoyable in life. This is just a blip and to be honest I've been blessed to get this far in life without any major health issues before. I am very fortunate and it's easy to be positive when you're so lucky.
Also what else am I going to do? It's not possible to cry for weeks on end. You've just got to woman up and get on with things.