I was sitting in my living with my boyfriend and our mutual friend, and the postman came to the back door near where we were sat and put some post through the letterbox and it was a hospital letter for me. But it had some stuff written on the envelope so I didn’t need to open it to know it was bad news. It had a couple of things written by different people on it and it said I had thirteen small brain tumours but the doctor I had was very good and it was probably going to be okay. I didn’t open the envelope to see what the letter inside said they were going to do about it. My boyfriend was wandering around the flat doing something else and my friend was sat next to me – I was sat on the sofa feeling that I couldn’t go on and I might as well just end it now because that would be easier and I was crying and sort of screaming quietly, making some sort of inhuman noises and that’s how I woke up this morning.
4,000 miles away from my own doormat, after a long day of co-ordinating the salt in my nails with the sand in my teeth, I whisper “please, no letters” into my American pillow, as if there were anything it could possibly do to stop the consultant, to stop the admin clerk, to stop the sorting office staff, to stop the postman, to stop time.
I thought I should blog as I haven’t in a while, and things have been happening. The annoying thing is, things are still happening and things will still be happening for the foreseeable future. Though I am not thinking too far ahead, so there isn’t much of the future that is foreseeable right now.
The results are in for the IHadCancer.com Top Cancer Blogs of 2017! I’m very pleased to be named runner-up in the creativity category. It is an honour to be mentioned among so many other awesome blogs. I think everyone who is out there writing about cancer is pretty brave. And not brave for having cancer – because that is what it is – but brave for putting it all out there, for being a source of information and empathy, for sharing something painful and personal and contributing to a community. These awards are really cool because they introduce us to new sources for all of these things, and remind people that they are not completely alone. Congratulations to everyone!
The other day I wrote a blog post about how I tend to think of
my body as something separate from myself, rather than part of me. I had a bit of an epiphany and now I think that the narrative I’ve been using to describe my body and my relationship with it has been harmful. You might want to read that before wading into this nonsense – it’s really a series of tweets, and it’s not very long. Basically, cancer has fucked me up in terms of how I think about myself and my body. I’m sure other illnesses can do the same, so if any of these even vaguely relates, keep reading.
Note to self: There is a difference between seeing a health problem as something external that is threatening your body, and seeing your body as itself as the problem. Your body is not a threat. The illness/problem is a threat. Your body is on your side.
Hospital appointment on Wednesday – first of three different ones but I’m still waiting for the others to come through. I’ve been feeling quite content and at peace today and yesterday, considering, but I’m feeling a tiny bit anxious this evening. Which is illogical, because nothing has changed between then and now. Goodness knows how I will feel when I wake up in the morning. Some days I wake up feeling worried and other days I wake up feeling chirpy, and there is no discernable reason for either. It’s a lottery. I’m held hostage by my feelings. I know the Buddhist answer is to watch them come and go without attachment. I guess I could try harder at that.
– Been to see a gynaecologist due to weird MRI results, and told everything is fine, that they can give me a hysteroscopy if I want (just a camera check-up thing) but I said if it’s not totes necessary, don’t bother
It’s all mad. Absolutely fucking mad. I did okay through Christmas, until about 30th December, in anticipation of this appointment with the gynaecologist due to the MRI I had. Spent that evening curled up with my boyfriend crying, and the days leading up to yesterday weren’t much better. Anxious, freaking out. Distracted. Wednesday night my belly was flip-flopping all over the place, doing somersaults.