Today on the Breast Cancer Now Forum was a post thanking me and one of the community champions for our support during this person’s crisis. She referred to us an angels and said we deserve a medal. Whilst experiencing a little smirk of satisfaction, I thought about the irony of my reality compared to what she probably assumes. I try to be honest and I told her how I needed to be sedated to sit through a chemo session but I don't think that’s what she wanted to read. She needed us to be heroes. Well, in the interests of honesty, this was me on Wednesday:
This was me Thursday morning, can I can’t I?: 
Yes, I was a big girl and I had my mammogram. Thanks to a mask, the radiographer could not see my contorted face as she did the side x-ray and I continue to be grateful for being monoboobed. Only two xrays! When she came out and said they were both good (so no extra xrays) my heart soared, only to be brought back down to earth by Dennis muttering “So that’s just another three weeks of worry.” I wish I could laugh but it makes me feel a bit guilty that I cause him this stress. I’ve tried telling him Dr S said that I was unlikely to get cancer in my other breast (let’s face it, that chemo would have killed anything dormant) but it doesn’t stop him worrying.
But this was me yesterday afternoon: 
So here’s me advising someone on the forum to be kinder to herself and stop calling herself a wimp when I seem incapable of offering myself the slightest compassion. Must try harder.
Tuesday was my Second Anniversary. The day I had my cancer removed and came home in a stupor, attached to a bottle of raspberry smoothie. I don’t know what I expected of myself but, having identified it as the one positive date I can clearly identify, I felt incredibly low. Back to the ‘I really didn't expect to be like this two years later’ train of thought. I was lifted by the delivery of a lovely bunch of roses with irises from Trina but my head remained a mess. So, since we got lost yet again between Chancellor Wing and the car park, we stopped off at Maggie’s. I mentioned once before that we popped into the Maggie’s Centre briefly a year ago, not long after it opened. I can’t describe what makes the place so special but Dennis left me to talk out my frustrations with a former oncology nurse and, an hour later, she found him zoned out on a sofa. As he said, the atmosphere is so relaxing, it takes the worry away. Maybe we should move in?
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