It's not all about me........(not all the time)!
I heard from an old friend today. His wife has just been diagnosed with breast cancer, which was picked up during a routine scan. Today she is 1 of the 150 women who will have been diagnosed with breast cancer. To her and the 149 others, their journey is just starting. Each journey will be unique and take its own course, and each woman will cope with it in the best way she knows how. Be brave my cancer companions......you have many more women known and unknown rooting for you.
Tomorrow is my last radiotherapy session and marks the end of the acute phase of my treatment. With the ongoing uncertainty with my lungs and my HER2 positive status, treatment still goes on, perhaps indefinitely, but it is less intense than it has been up to now. I made the decision today that I'm not going to be kept on tender hooks waiting it out for the verdict on my lungs. It will be what it will be and as I said unwittingly today to a friend of a friend at radiotherapy the uncertainty over my lungs is killing me (perhaps literally)! We both laughed as only 2 women united by cancer can!
As this phase of treatment comes to a close, like the leading lady in a show, I feel it is time to take a bow and also to acknowledge the support of those with whom this journey so far would not have been possible.
The unspoken hero is unarguably my husband. Throughout all of this he has been amazing. He has known exactly when to hug me close, to put a hand on me to comfort me in the middle of night and when I just need to be left alone. The burden of childcare has fallen to him when I have not been capable of even holding a conversation, let alone looking after Briony. He has cooked endless meals, washed endless loads of washing, done the food shopping, run me baths, answered the phone, told people I don't want to talk and cried and laughed with me along the way. He has shaved my hair off and then kissed my bald head and told me he loved me whilst I had tears streaming down my face. He has not reacted at the site of my scar and has made awful jokes about my lack of a breast (some of them were even funny). Most of all, he has loved me throughout. He has also held down a full-time job, worked on a major project at work and as we speak is mid-way through implementing a outsourcing programme. Poor guy doesn't do things by halves. So to the supporting men out there, thank you. When one member of a family gets cancer, you all do, but everyone only asks about the person with the cancer. Please do ask about those in a supporting role......they have needs too and are often feeling too guilty to express them.
To all of my amazing friends and family, both near and far, your continued support keeps me going. You've seen me at my best and at my worst and I'm grateful to all of you, friends both old and new. I've felt your solidarity, rather than sympathy oozing from your pores on occasions. One of my friends wrote an article recently about women needing to "find a tribe" and I'm lucky enough to have several from different times of my life. All have been amazing for different reasons and at different time. I feel blessed by everything that I do have - another gift that cancer has bestowed on me.
Then there are the consultants, nurses, radiographers, dieticians, pharmacists, alternative therapists, counsellors, GPs, sonographers and no doubt a host of others that I have missed that have delivered my care. All with compassion, most with a sense of humour akin to my own. A special mention must go out to the chemo nurses. Nothing is ever too much trouble and what could be a very negative place is actually light-hearted. They have also reassured me when I have been an idiot (like throwing quite an expensive drug away) and urged me to move my arse over to A&E when necessary. You are quite simply angels in a very dark and lonely place.
So to my amazing supporting cast, thank you, from the bottom of my heart. Hopefully you'll stick by me for the next episode in this saga. x
Tomorrow is my last radiotherapy session and marks the end of the acute phase of my treatment. With the ongoing uncertainty with my lungs and my HER2 positive status, treatment still goes on, perhaps indefinitely, but it is less intense than it has been up to now. I made the decision today that I'm not going to be kept on tender hooks waiting it out for the verdict on my lungs. It will be what it will be and as I said unwittingly today to a friend of a friend at radiotherapy the uncertainty over my lungs is killing me (perhaps literally)! We both laughed as only 2 women united by cancer can!
As this phase of treatment comes to a close, like the leading lady in a show, I feel it is time to take a bow and also to acknowledge the support of those with whom this journey so far would not have been possible.
The unspoken hero is unarguably my husband. Throughout all of this he has been amazing. He has known exactly when to hug me close, to put a hand on me to comfort me in the middle of night and when I just need to be left alone. The burden of childcare has fallen to him when I have not been capable of even holding a conversation, let alone looking after Briony. He has cooked endless meals, washed endless loads of washing, done the food shopping, run me baths, answered the phone, told people I don't want to talk and cried and laughed with me along the way. He has shaved my hair off and then kissed my bald head and told me he loved me whilst I had tears streaming down my face. He has not reacted at the site of my scar and has made awful jokes about my lack of a breast (some of them were even funny). Most of all, he has loved me throughout. He has also held down a full-time job, worked on a major project at work and as we speak is mid-way through implementing a outsourcing programme. Poor guy doesn't do things by halves. So to the supporting men out there, thank you. When one member of a family gets cancer, you all do, but everyone only asks about the person with the cancer. Please do ask about those in a supporting role......they have needs too and are often feeling too guilty to express them.
To all of my amazing friends and family, both near and far, your continued support keeps me going. You've seen me at my best and at my worst and I'm grateful to all of you, friends both old and new. I've felt your solidarity, rather than sympathy oozing from your pores on occasions. One of my friends wrote an article recently about women needing to "find a tribe" and I'm lucky enough to have several from different times of my life. All have been amazing for different reasons and at different time. I feel blessed by everything that I do have - another gift that cancer has bestowed on me.
Then there are the consultants, nurses, radiographers, dieticians, pharmacists, alternative therapists, counsellors, GPs, sonographers and no doubt a host of others that I have missed that have delivered my care. All with compassion, most with a sense of humour akin to my own. A special mention must go out to the chemo nurses. Nothing is ever too much trouble and what could be a very negative place is actually light-hearted. They have also reassured me when I have been an idiot (like throwing quite an expensive drug away) and urged me to move my arse over to A&E when necessary. You are quite simply angels in a very dark and lonely place.
So to my amazing supporting cast, thank you, from the bottom of my heart. Hopefully you'll stick by me for the next episode in this saga. x
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