There was a great urge not to write the blog today. Because when everyone left me today I began to feel super low, because I am scared that people will get dragged right down with me and stop reading, stop caring. Because I know that I will hopefully pull myself together and be ok in a half an hour or so but you are left feeling whatever I put on this page for as long as you think about it and that seems unfair to me. So I have waited till I am at least not tearful, dressed and had breakfast (2.30pm lame huh) before writing anything.
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.
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