in edinburgh the waiting around seems to be…3 weeks after your doc finds the lump you get scanned mammed and told its probably nothing..unless it’s probably cancer and they tell you
it looks very suspicious.
it could potentially be cancer.
The meaning that i once held for suspicious…fits in crime films…but now it is in the air….does it mean something bad? is there a crime in my boob?
they take a biospy
i go home…and my mind really starts to lose it now.
i still feel like i’m alone because….i’m reeling…i’m crying…i’m frightened and i don’t even know why yet.
weeks later (i’ve lost count) and yeahy party its cancer.
now i’ve known for a week and i can tell you if you haven’t had this diagnosis –
this is what alllll that pink stuff is about. this is what all the posters books posts and groups and support centres and special nurses and on and on…this is why it’s sooo big.
you know survivors of cancer. but you also know diers.
turns out – if you get told that there’s something beating the fight against crime in your body – namely your boob – it hits you like a railway train running out of railtracks on the edge of a cliff. this isn’t a choice…this is a subconscious effort….all the things you THOUGHT you thought about getting cancer don’t add up..don’t mean a fucking thing.
what you actually feel about dying slowly painfully and losing dignity….the relationships around you even the ones you dont’ like….the END of everything you fucking know…starts coming into question.
you keep saying# but i thought i was going to be positive? i thought it wasn’t that bad anymore?
the doctors faces, the booklets that weigh your arms down, the groups you are suddenly pushed into….the info overwhelmingly urgently needing read…the decisions you are sudddenly supposed to make…the pros and cons of shit option after shit option –
suddenly comes crashing in.
there is no more silence…just the sound of a train constantly careering off the tracks and heading your way….always coming for you – takes the place of the silence you knew before.
i’m speaking litereally here.
i believe this is me describing shock. i’m still in shock and every day is different. i’m like a child making her way through the big bad woods of the unknown. every single thought i have, the groups of emotions riding up down and all over me…the rollercoaster of shitness….all feels new – and scarier than anything i’ve ever known.
that is what all the fuss is about. reality kicks. and you don’t realise how it feels until you feel it.