Welcome to the c word
I rarely show the world what is going on inside it is just not my style. I hide pain and constantly worry about worrying other people and how they will feel about how I am feeling. I keep my problems to myself and sometimes even from my closest friends. Well not this time.
I have been on the c word roller-coaster (I'm calling it the c word to go easy on the faint hearted) for over three weeks now and have decided it is a good idea to write down what's happened, happening and going to happen then whoever wants to keep up to date can without being forced to hear about it through emails from me. Because you will all have days where you just can't or don't want to hear about this. I get that it’s ok.
I hope not but you also might meet people or know people who go through something similar and it might just help them in some way to know they are not alone and when they fall apart it is ok because who wouldn’t. When you read this please forgive grammar and spelling etc I have not slept for three days and sorry too if it is up and down that is pretty much how I am doing most days.
- Tuesday 23rd February 2010
Tuesday, 30 March 2010
He did however cook me and the lovely Rosie Bacon (coolest name ever) a super nice roast dinner last night after he had finished work and gone straight out shopping then drove to the other side of town to get me something to relieve my mouth ulcer farm even though I protested the detour so I think maybe I can let this one go.
Lazy day today I hurt again, woke up on my front and let's just say that really sucks, also probably did too much wandering about yesterday so I've cleaned the kitchen after the Lazarou Roast Emporium had painted the walls with lamb and back on the sofa to rest, sorry Daniel no shower yet. I know I know.
Monday, 29 March 2010
I received some cheery daffs this morning so have spread them around the house so there is no where I can look without seeing them, Thank you Jackie and John very much appreciated xx
I am off to see Isaac at school in his classroom this afternoon and I feel excited about my first lone expedition. whoop. xxx Love you all very very much.
Saturday, 27 March 2010
Last night was one of those dips in the dark.
I fell asleep on Phil's lap as I used to quite often do before I had this affection embargo enforced. I miss affection so much, it seems like the cruellest irony that when you need hugs the most you physically cannot give or receive them. When I awoke disorientated my pain killers had worn off so in a very assertive rush the right affected quarter, throat, ear and back all fought for immediate attention. Yet the worse part was I had forgotten, totally drifted into a nice sleep and forgotten I even have cancer. I went to sleep weeping thinking about how everyone I knew had something they were looking forward to graduating, birthdays, weddings, holidays, babies, travelling and it is not that I felt any resentment whatsoever I just so badly wanted to be among them, last night I would have given anything to not be in my shoes. Phil said he had never seen me look so scared while he stroked my tear soaked hair as I fell asleep.
Today I feel more positive, must be slowly climbing another peak, who knows how long it will last. Sometimes you just have to smile and hold on tight.
I am reading my Dads book he is currently writing, it is in a word amazing. I never really thoroughly took the details in last year when he sent me bits of it at a time but this time round it's like I have new eyes. He describes his childhood so eloquently, capturing exactly how it feels to be a child full of innocence, fear, anger and curiosity. It is like I am there surviving it with him, I was so much like him when I was younger and I am so much like him now but it takes delving in to his inner most thoughts to see it clearly. He talks about his fondness for his dog Bob and running out back of the new house they had just moved into with Bob leaping through weeds as high as him and feeling like he was king of the garden. One of my most vivid memories of childhood was moving into a new rather run down house and being released like a excited whirlwind into the back garden with my bouncy bearded collie Frisby. I never knew how high Frisby could bounce till that day. The weeds were so tall I could have got totally lost in there for days, all I could see whilst I ran through the tall grass and flowers, feeling very Alice in wonderland, was Frisby leaping above the grass in a happy frenzy with me, best friend forever. I suppose it leads me to thinking that with childhood being such a beautiful experience for me because of everything my parents gave, gave up, believed in, strived for, provided that to watch their daughter, they spent years of their lives protecting from harm, have cancer at 30 must be every parents worst nightmare come true.
But at least I WILL be ok. My heart goes out to anyone who loved and lost someone to this disease, because to go on this tiring journey is bad enough but to then to lose the person you have travelled with must be unfathomably painful, I can only begin to imagine.
Friday, 26 March 2010
BUT I am mostly fine nothing major to report. xxx
Thursday, 25 March 2010
I can't stop imagining what my clingfilmed chicken fillet looking boob looks like under all the dressings, I don't think it will be pretty that is for sure, gotta prepare for that somehow. I am not exactly a vain person but I liked my boobs as they were and I could always rely on them to be there until they turned against me, the bastards. I am sure some people breeze in hospital wop off their boobs and get over it in a heartbeat but any changes to my body after having a predominantly consistent figure is a shock for me and I have to be allowed to grieve about it if I need to. The first lesson about cancer once again is no two people go through this the same way and feel the same impact from the same events.
What I also realised very quickly is that the media present to us examples of famous people (who obviously go private and don't suffer the worst part which is the waiting) boldly taking on cancer and kicking it's arse but we never get to see them crying in their bedrooms they don't show all the private vulnerable moments they undoubtedly have so there is a pressure on us normal people to appear strong and brave all the time. But like my bro Ian said to me true strength is about being brave enough to let it out when you need to, tears, screaming the works. To show everything that's inside is braver than hiding it all and putting on a front. I like to think I am being brave about this but some days I am not quite convinced.
Wednesday, 24 March 2010
Tuesday, 23 March 2010
Will write more tomorrow but must rest now Doctor Lazarous orders and I am in enough trouble already from trying to do too much on my own, I think I am going to be an over ambitious patient, sorry Phil.
Monday, 22 March 2010
Summary of the day...we found the Royal Brompton Hospital just round the corner from the Royal Marsden, but vastly lacking in welcoming environment and cleanliness in comparison, and made our way to the Nuclear Medicine Clinic which sounds as scary as it turned out to be. First doors open alcohol rub on hands. Second solid swing doors open and I want to turn right around immediately. The first sight that caught my eye I won't give detailed description of but lets just say there was no doubt that some of the patients in the room were hovering the grave and I just had not really seen anyone like that before in my clearly naive life. The second sight was a scan of the room and once again just like last time I was significantly younger than anyone who came in and out of there and again the last to leave. It is a strange and alienating feeling sitting there with people either looking at you like you should not be there or with total shock and pity yet not one small glimpse of relating to another person from across the room. I have not yet seen anyone under 50 in these hospitals I know there must be someone else like me going through this.
Right I get called in by a nurse and usual story wap them out put on a gown that would fit Homer Simpson after a soda bread eating competition. Then 'this will sting so breathe in deeply' ouch fuck you were not kidding lady. So I breathed in and held it and held it and oh my god when is this woman going to let me breathe out I start to let air escape secretly and she said nothing so I let out a little more and a little more 'ok breathe out' shit too late shuush. Then a lot of painful rubbing and I have stand around like a total fool circling my arm for about five minutes, not long right, when you are circling radiation around your armpit it feels like forever. So she wanders off and leaves me in this camera room circling my achy arm then after five minutes she returns and gets me to lie down. One kind of white rock taped to one boob, several uncomfortable frozen positions and a very tight metal plate lowered on me and then several xrays later and she has 'only found one node'. No idea what that means but she found one so that is good right, I suppose I will find out soon enough.
A doctor from the Marsden comes to meet me she wants me to consider joining in a research trial and I of course said yes, it is nothing invasive only extends the surgery by 5-10 minutes and will help them be able to make the surgery for women like me more productive and efficient. In the second trial my tissue will be sent to America and frozen and I figured I have been trying to get back over there for a while so I am pretty chuffed a piece of me will at least make the trip seeing as I am otherwise engaged.
I am tired and a bit headachy but not feeling too bad considering only a week ago I was pretty tearful and low with all the apprehension. Funny how it goes so unpredictably up and down like this.
So I will leave it there today. Not sure if I will be able to type anything tomorrow but I will try to get help to at least let you all know I am out of hospital, which I will be people I will be, and recovering well by teatime let's hope. Love love love xxx
Sunday, 21 March 2010
So London tomorrow yep yep. I am unnervingly cool, and I really do feel not too shabby. Something must be lurking in there somewhere just waiting till I require all my moxie and it will involuntarily break out and wreak havoc. I suppose I am simply trying not to think about it too much, just drifting along hoping that my theory that everything will not be half as drastic as I was first encouraged to expect will come true. If it doesn’t then fuck it no planning or preparation will make it any easier to take in or deal with. This is it now, we are here there is no going back. There is nothing anyone can do to change the next couple of days so there is no point obsessing about any of it just go and let it all happen, it will be over as soon as it arrived and then at least I can draw a line under the first stage of this horrendous year, done. Next.
Saturday, 20 March 2010
I don't want to really talk or think about the operation tonight, is that ok? cheers.
I have decided I am going to attempt to have flowers in my recovery house constantly. I really love how they make a room feel and there is something so fresh and alive about them, which is ironic because you have practically fatally wounded them and stuck them in life support water where they will inevitably demise but I will get some more and throw out the old ones before I have to consider that detail. I am going to get another jasmine if I get time, I had a beautiful flowering Jasmine for years that I brought in during winter, that Phil killed accidentally while I was away in the US, and I miss that plant so much.
Ooh the departed is on so that is me done. xx Gotta love Scorsese.
Thursday, 18 March 2010
By the way for anyone who does not get the severity of it being in my glands well just quickly that means it can spread round the body faster not like in minutes or hours or anything close but it is harder to treat, or more aggressively treated, and more advanced.
Come on let out a small cheer go on just a wee one. I am so elated and I needed it I really needed it, I totally feel like I can take on this fucker now, bring it on. I found my resilience again, I think I had left it on the shop floor somewhere in the vicinity of where I had the conversation with the unnamed doctor who tells me they are concerned and need me in London in 48 hours to have a sample sent to pathology in time for my operation to be able to judge if the whole surgery plan needed rethinking. So that meant I could have been looking at 3-5 days in hospital and longer recovery and more damage with 0 days notice and now I feel sure I will be in and out like a flash. They did not promise this or even mention it but I am so happy I am going to run with it a while. Too confident? possibly, but allow this moment of naivety. I felt so stupid today for worrying yesterday but in hindsight there does not seem such a need to add so much drama with the way they tell you these things and details they fail to mention. No one said that it's a precaution no one said the reason it is so late in the day and had become so stressfully urgent is because the surgeon has been on holiday and not looked at your file until now. Geez people if you had told me that I would have only semi panicked internally not been totally knocked for six as I was.
Oh the relief. The cool thing is although it sucked to be scared by them in this way with all the urgent panic and messing around, I now have had two radiologists look at the nodes and one did a sample test which was clear and the other could not see anything of concern. So I can go into my surgery believing there is little chance it has spread and I should, fingers crossed super tight, wake up with no surprises. That in the long run is worth the last 48 hours of tension.
I am however going to be super pissed off if this cock-sureness backfires. But for now, in your face cancer HA. Whoopah.
Wednesday, 17 March 2010
I knew I would be like this as I got closer to the operation with not sleeping most nights, forgetting to eat 3 meals a day and somedays 2 out of 3 of them, and on hearing or seeing. purely accidentally, more stories about disfigured breasts, infections and the long hellish wait for the results and a nice list of death certificates that outweighs the survival stories I have collected, I know not statistically just unlucky for me personally this is what I have encountered. Anyway I knew it would be a tough time. I am just so very very tired. You can tell by the ridiculously long sentences.
But I braved it today I called someone. You know the professionals from Macmillan and sorry to say but the lady, I was unfortunate to get whilst I held in the tears, was totally shit. She told me to go to St Leonards on Sea for a support group and that was that 'sorry I can't help you more'. The keyworker from Brighton I met in my first appointment warned me for my age group support groups were a bad idea because everyone is older and sometimes had it for years and for someone young who is just embarking on this journey it is too hard to see and is not a recommended environment. But I did not give up, I braved it again and called Breast Cancer Care www.breastcancercare.org.uk. and I hung up. I called again panicked that I should not be bothering them and I hung up and then again but before I could hang up one more time someone answered and I will be grateful forever for that unnamed lady who spent 45 minutes talking to me about all my crap. She was one of those amazing cape wearing people that knows how to articulate exactly how fucking stressful this all is. So I was thinking that there are many of you who really genuinely want to help me and feel so useless because there is nothing anyone can really do and how awful that must be for you all, I would feel the same in fact I do feel very helpless and useless right now. Well if you can afford any time or money to promote or give to http://www.breastcancercare.org.uk/donate/ then do because you will keep them running so they can keep me happy and hundreds of other people like me. Just a thought. They also speak to anyone who is affected by the person affected, so you can call and talk about fears and stresses relating to me. Nice huh. I am going to give Phil and you all the number 0808 8006000. Save it somewhere. You might have a question that is eating away at you that you don't want to worry me with well you can call them. They are super nice. and won't try to send you to St Leonards on Sea. Which, sympathy if you live there, is the kind of place that might actually push me over the edge.
Bottom line is I am ok for the time being so please be ok too.
Oh oh oh and Isaac the fishman won his races in the swimming gala, about to see the beaming face arrive outside the door any moment.
Oh oh oh oh Monty. Quick Monty story...So picture the scene strange cat is territorially stalking the garden. Mont and I, we watch we wait. I look at Mont and he looks at me. I slowly unlock the door and said cat looks over, we all freeze. I open the door and with precision timing Mont shoots through and runs in the direction of the fleeing cat who he then chases him up the fence and away. Mont triumphant runs back and stands proud albeit a little shocked, he didn't think he had it in him and neither did I. The End.
Tuesday, 16 March 2010
Didn't you know I have brothers? Yep two older brothers middle bro Paul, he and I were especially close when we were teenagers rebelling against whatever was out there to rebel against, and sharing secrets, ups and downs. A few years ago he came to the park when I cried with a broken heart and brought strawberries, wisdom, hugs and time. Oldest bro Ian who listened recently in London said all the right things in a different park when I cried with a broken spirit and brought many of the same healing ingredients minus the strawberries but replaced them with a yummy lunch after. Needless to say I am luckiest girl alive in some ways because my family love me so much and it's returned ten fold, of course.
Anyway Today I got myself to Brighton, even managed to look half alive, I was planning to go to my last class this term at uni when the Royal Marsden called out of the blue and told me to come to London for an urgent appointment to do another ultrasound and take another needle sample of my gland because they are 'concerned' about something they saw on the images from Brighton. I feel instantly sick. So Thursday I am rushing up there for a unscheduled appointment to be poked and prodded again and not have a clue what will come of it till I go for my operation on Tuesday. They want to be sure they are doing the right kind of surgery on me. I mean sure I REALLY want them to be sure too but why wait till now did it not occur to them to check my file any sooner instead of totally panicking me in the already very stressful last few days before the op.
I don't know what to say I am scared it's in my glands and I think they are too.
I had just got to a place of being convinced this was going to go smoothly and had started to breathe a little relief in that the cancer has not spread or it seemed unlikely. Now all I can really deduce is that there is something obviously worrying showing up from the scans and mammography (and after the radiologist spent so long on my armpit in silence) but as for what that is another question. It could be some weird shadow that shows up and nothing to worry about, just unfortunate for me, or it could be some strong signs of well come on you know. So right, they are being careful and cautious and double checking so I should be grateful, why don't I feel grateful? I won't deny it, it is increasingly hard to be chipper when everyday you climb up those steps to even ground so you can walk around like everyone else out there and suddenly a rug is pulled or a massive hole appears that you didn't see until you fell right in it. and that phone call made me fall in head first.
I just want some good news. and sleep. I am going to take a sleeping pill tonight.
Sunday, 14 March 2010
For me another part of cancer that I find a huge struggle is the lack of control. I won't bore you with details but I have a strong need to be in control of my body and my life surely I can't be alone there. It is one of the most vital emotional needs I have. Cancer does not let you have control, the anxiety and adrenalin alone force you to act and cope in a very new unpredictable way and as for the medical and physical side I have to release all my control over my life and body and lay it in a strangers hands to do whatever they think is best and that I find exceptionally hard.
My cat has forced himself on my lap and is purring room shakingly loud but he has positioned himself half on half off so I have no choice but to support him with one hand, I am now one handed typing this could take a while, it appears I am not the only one who likes control. Monty though has healing powers, he doesn't know this but I could feel ready to blow and I only have to watch him sleeping to calm me down immediately it works to the same degree on Phil. If cats were a little more hygienic they should send them into hospitals. I do worry however that emergency surgeries would be delayed with the 'I can't go I have the cat' routine my mum used to do when she wanted someone to make tea for her. My mum must have been gutted when she realised her latest rescued cat is not keen on sitting on laps.
I think the big question of the day is where do you put the anger? Phil and I can't find a good enough answer to this one. It is embarrassing and difficult for me to admit this but I really lost it for the first time the other day. I promised myself if I am going to write this then I won't skip important moments just because they don't show me in a favourable light. I think the frustration, tiredness, anger and anxiety from the past 6 weeks twisted together into some highly explosive emotion that I never knew I had when Phil, as Phil bless him does, did something relatively, how shall we say, irksome. I took myself upstairs and screamed into the duvet so loud the cat hid behind the sofa for an hour and we both half expected the police to turn up checking on us, or at least it felt that loud. Phil who in four years had never heard me scream just said thank you, because he was relieved I had finally just let it out, no more controlling it all just letting him see what was going on under the calm surface of yeah sure I can cope with this. He cried (sorry Phil), I cried and believe it or not I actually felt a whole load better when I could forgive myself for doing it. I realised that everywhere I go I can't, because of my own dignity and tendency to hold it together, let it out when I need to and this is not healthy.
You see you want to scream because everything around carries on like it did before, when your life is so irreversibly changed and it feels totally unfair. You want to scream because you and everyone around you are powerless and you can't stop it or at least slow down what is about to happen and you don't feel ready to face it. You want to scream when your eyes sting, your brain slows down and your back aches because you can't get the sleep that will make this so much easier to deal with. You want to scream because you have cancer and you have no one to blame or be angry at, this unexplained mystery that chose you this year to fuck with.
But I don't feel like this all the time. I laughed last night, a lot. My friends, soon to be parents, Dan and Cat kindly had us round for snacks. cake, wine (not for me though) and trivial pursuit, which I am always on the losing side of so I am convinced that there is a pattern there somewhere, me. Cat with her very prominent bump was making Martha Stewart cupcakes in the kitchen and whilst gently hostessing as she does to ensure everyone has drinks and food and me to my surprise presents which were so so kind and lovely. She had chosen some fab very Brighton vintage style shoes which were amazing but bloody did not fit, I hate you feet, so she went off to get the receipt. I went to thank her feeling bad they were not quite my size and she is there pregnant tum leaning in the bin rifling through it like only Cat would. We burst into laughter, I won't forget her face and how funny she looked. Cat is amazing she sent me tons of distracting emails when I first found out and was the first person to joke with me about cancer in a well timed thoughtful way delivered with genuine kindness. Her husband Dan is the perfect compliment to her hostessing with the Dan charm anyone who meets him never forgets, it draws you in and makes you totally trust every word he says whilst he kicks your arse at Trivial Pursuit with an air of gentle smugness that is nothing but endearing. Bryony braved my driving to join us and rescued Cat and I in the kitchen just as we had managed to get a yolk in the egg whites and were making an emergency plan of baking action. What can I say, thanks for being wonderful and taking care of me...and sending me home with cakes. Love love love.
Thursday, 11 March 2010
So where did all the time go? Wouldn't it be amazing if you could save up all the lost time, like roll over minutes, in a jar and then you open it when you feel you need a little extra here and there. You could sell your lost time to other people or if you were nice you would give it to terminally ill and the elderly (Dani I know you would). It just does not work that way though does it.
My calm relaxing two weeks is ticking by so fast and instead of trying to pretend to put it to the back of my mind I find myself obsessed with preparations. I am like that anyway with holidays and journeys etc, I just like to be organised and make it smooth as possible. However this particular journey has no google map or tripadvisor because although others have been down this very road many times before they felt, thought, acted and reacted very very differently to me. If there is one huge thing I have learnt from talking to different people and reading different stories is that no one goes through cancer in the same way. So anyone who wholeheartedly believes to have a solid idea of exactly how you are feeling because their friend or relative felt that way is unfortunately making a bit of a mistake. An understandable one though.
The one thing I find hardest to shake off is being told in so many words it's no big deal or it's nothing with that brushing it off tone followed by a sort of rewording of the 'stop making a fuss Sarah' sentence and from people who really surprised me...(it is no one reading this blog so you can breathe a sigh of relief there, you are all very lovely). So I felt really guilty like god did I make a fuss oh shit have I been a pain in the arse, have I lent on anyone and taken people for granted. But a few days later it occurs to me - hold on a minute I haven't called anyone in tears in the middle of night although nearly everyone offered willingly to take that call, I haven't forced everyone to suffer through detailed accounts of over dramatic trauma I simply wrote how I honestly felt in a blog, whilst still trying to make it more light than brutal, and said here read it if you want if you don't don't. and even though I know why the people who said these things said them it still leaves you astonished that anyone could at a time like this. Similar to one of the most shocking moments when someone told me, after I disclosed my diagnosis to them, to leave off the smokers because they fund the NHS. Words cannot.
People are people and they have anger bubbling away under the surface that seems to boil up without them even being aware of it I am sure I do it myself without my knowledge or consent. But I only hope I deliver my thoughts and feelings with a little more delicacy then these mentioned people. I think the best advice is be honest and if you don't know what to say do what two very dear chaps did and simply say that, the truth. That meant more to me than polished lines from a greetings card. They were so stunned and affected they could not find the right words. I totally totally get that.
So while I am preparing just to give you all the heads up again of where I will be and when. I am heading to London to stay in Kensington, yes I know, and going for my radiation injection, ugh, at 2.30pm on 22nd March. I am going for dinner with my bro and his wife hopefully and then attempting to sleep, which is probably as likely as a 5 year old sleeping filled with sweets on Christmas eve, only way more depressing.
I will go to The Royal Marsden, Fulham road for 7.30am (23rd) and from there it is pretty uncertain but I hope to be out the same day go back to hotel collapse sleep eat and then head home by train to Eastbourne the next day (24th) arriving for the afternoon where I will be staying at Phil's for probably weeks, at least two, so come see me when and if I am ready (and as long as you are not contagious). I return to London on 2nd April for post operation assessment and my results eek eek eek eek. I cannot stress the stress enough of this part so with tons of notice I am requesting as much distractions as possible please, especially as the days leading up to it Phil is back to work and I am a loner, hint hint. This appointment is also two days before my birthday that was going to be my 30th in England (really it's my 31st but of course I was away last year) but now might be postponed and I decided tonight if it has to be postponed then I should get at least three birthdays to make up for it. Fair enough? Although that does not in any way make me three years older. 2nd April I get results from the pathology on the lumpectomy and sentinel node biopsy, sounds cool huh. I wish it was cool. Essentially did they find any specks of cancerous cells in the glands or around the tumour they removed and if yes then shit it's chemo. If no maybe maybe maybe radiotherapy which in truth I have already decided in my head is going to happen and I am not so sure it is wise because that comfort zone is in the clouds somewhere, I even think there are care bears up there too, and it is a long long way to fall. You get me? probably not I distracted you with care bears. I used to love care bears I mean bears that care what a genius idea. Isaac had a teddy bear to share that he took everywhere with him at one point. 'Sarah would you like my teddy bear to share' 'Why yes I don't mind partaking of a teddy bear to share moment' Oooh way too late and I need to shut my brain off now I think, don't you? Night night.
p.s. It has been a good few days I am tired but smiling. I have eaten nearly all of the 'happy cakes' Laura made for me. I did in my head question what was in them to be labelled 'happy cakes' but then that also did not make me hesitate whatsoever in consuming the lot...before you get ahead of yourselves for your information I am legally happy.
xxx or xoxo - depending on what country you are from.
Wednesday, 10 March 2010
Tuesday, 9 March 2010
So the last draining appointment was days ago and the operation is in two weeks today so that is two whole weeks with only one little doctors appointment to go to on Thursday. Thanks to the kindness of Nigel and Carrie sweeping the boys off for an adventure and Phil's mum and Robin having us round I have actually managed to have time to do what I need and squeeze in the occasion nap on the sofa, ooh and eat cake.
When everything is all calm like now I feel sort of guilty like I am making a fuss over nothing even writing this blog because I look fine on the outside, well normal anyway, and feel ok so hmm what's the big deal. Then I remember ah cancer yes that old thing is sort of a big deal round here and I have still got it. Doh. But this naive bubble is quite comfy so if it's ok with you I plan to be drifting along in it for a few days at least. I am in Brighton till Thursday and up for seeing people, if people are up for being seen : ). Today is officially a good day. More than good, it's a normal day. Off to uni soon xx
Monday, 8 March 2010
Sunday, 7 March 2010
Friday, 5 March 2010
Thursday, 4 March 2010
Tuesday, 2 March 2010
Although within my current vocabulary there are no words with enough intelligence and power to fully convey the appreciation and awe I have for my friends and family right now I will have a go anyway.
Monday, 1 March 2010
I said to Phil the other day and this may not make sense to you but I don't fear cancer now I have it. I will be the first now to admit that I have had moments in my life lying in the dark, just like a lot of people, worrying about dying or getting cancer or both. Only for a brief moment of course and then you block it out and kind of mentally shake yourself. Now it's happened, not the death part I am still alive don't panic, it really is not as bad as you expect or imagine. Hmm well after the first few days anyway. I think it is not so bad because help is at hand, clever people out there are going to save you and you know they will do everything in their power to help you survive this. I keep imagining what it would be like to be going through this in a country or place out of reach of medical help and no NHS, that is the stuff nightmares are made of. Then I think of Haiti and now Chile too and just feel kind of bad for even making any fuss about my smancer.
Anyway go see Micmacs. or if not save the money and give it people who need it more than you in Haiti. Chile is in need to but please read this first before deciding where your aid travels to http://www.dec.org.uk/item/428.