kirmy
Well-Known Member
- Joined
- Jan 1, 2014
- Messages
- 749
David is asleep before he starts his night shift and it's Christmas Eve. I should be at work on the Oil rig, where I'm reliably informed there is no hot water because the boiler is on the blink. Instead I'm sitting at home eating risotto I've prepared and nursing an armpit wound from my sentinel node biopsy. I'm waiting to find out how advanced my newly diagnosed breast cancer is.
On the 3rd of January 2010 I underwent a monster operation of 11.5 hrs which liberate me from morbid obesity. It gave me a ticket to ride. I've been dazzlingly healthy ever since aside from a few minor **** arounds. Nothing...nothing prepared me for this blindsiding.
On the 31st I'll know if my tumour is localised or if it has spread to lymph nodes near by. Rather than go an celebrate the New Year like I'd have liked I have to prepare for the potential that the news may not be good...or maybe it will. Either way I'm trapped in the mortality waiting game.
On the 8th of January I start the Fec-t chemo protocol which is nothing short of scorched Earth. I will lose my hair, likely my fingernails, I will,likely get arsehole to mouth thrush and mount ulcers. In between I'll know fatigue like no other. This will last around seven long months. My life has altered in ways I never imagined or could conceive.
I was invincible four weeks ago. Now I'm about to be chemically deconstructed and I've no idea how I feel about it. I look at wigs. I wonder if I'll die. I wonder if I'll get well then get sick again in three years, five years, fifteen years. I wonder at the endless possibilities. My faulty genes have paved the way for a 2016 that I never imagined.
Let me tell you about being loved. I am the most fortunate person to be wrapped utterly in the deepest regard by many. I don't actually deserve it as I'm acerbic, fickle and restless but I'm good with a quip and a hug. So many loving hands have stroked my ego, held me up and wiped away my tears. If I could show you how this looks I'm sure you'd be stunned at the beauty of it all. I know I am. So here I am transcended by the majesty of people and suffering the greatest battle I've ever fought. I'm so in awe and so grateful.
So each day I step up, square my shoulders and get on with it. I know other women and men on here who are fighting battles a lot more severe and hopeless than mine. I'm genuinely hurt for them, for the family members lost to this, for the slow march towards the inevitable. But they take my breath away with the humble strength and compassion they give freely. To you fine people ,know I love you fiercely.
So it is Christmas Eve and although I've had a **** sandwich recently I feel grateful. I have presents under my tree, a very fully belly, a snoring bulldog beside me, a snoring boyfriend sleeping upstairs and people fighting for me. I'm going to be ok. I have made it through the worst part figuratively speaking and now it's the body bit.
I'll keep you posted. I'll be honest and open and I'll describe the colour of my urine a lot as they keep injecting me with ******* excellent dye and today my poo is turquoise and my pee is Aqua. This **** is epic!
I'm here. I'm passively fighting with my eyes wide open. I'm not going to imagine I won't win. It is an all or nothing game.
.... But my **** is blue....and that is ******* awesome.
On the 3rd of January 2010 I underwent a monster operation of 11.5 hrs which liberate me from morbid obesity. It gave me a ticket to ride. I've been dazzlingly healthy ever since aside from a few minor **** arounds. Nothing...nothing prepared me for this blindsiding.
On the 31st I'll know if my tumour is localised or if it has spread to lymph nodes near by. Rather than go an celebrate the New Year like I'd have liked I have to prepare for the potential that the news may not be good...or maybe it will. Either way I'm trapped in the mortality waiting game.
On the 8th of January I start the Fec-t chemo protocol which is nothing short of scorched Earth. I will lose my hair, likely my fingernails, I will,likely get arsehole to mouth thrush and mount ulcers. In between I'll know fatigue like no other. This will last around seven long months. My life has altered in ways I never imagined or could conceive.
I was invincible four weeks ago. Now I'm about to be chemically deconstructed and I've no idea how I feel about it. I look at wigs. I wonder if I'll die. I wonder if I'll get well then get sick again in three years, five years, fifteen years. I wonder at the endless possibilities. My faulty genes have paved the way for a 2016 that I never imagined.
Let me tell you about being loved. I am the most fortunate person to be wrapped utterly in the deepest regard by many. I don't actually deserve it as I'm acerbic, fickle and restless but I'm good with a quip and a hug. So many loving hands have stroked my ego, held me up and wiped away my tears. If I could show you how this looks I'm sure you'd be stunned at the beauty of it all. I know I am. So here I am transcended by the majesty of people and suffering the greatest battle I've ever fought. I'm so in awe and so grateful.
So each day I step up, square my shoulders and get on with it. I know other women and men on here who are fighting battles a lot more severe and hopeless than mine. I'm genuinely hurt for them, for the family members lost to this, for the slow march towards the inevitable. But they take my breath away with the humble strength and compassion they give freely. To you fine people ,know I love you fiercely.
So it is Christmas Eve and although I've had a **** sandwich recently I feel grateful. I have presents under my tree, a very fully belly, a snoring bulldog beside me, a snoring boyfriend sleeping upstairs and people fighting for me. I'm going to be ok. I have made it through the worst part figuratively speaking and now it's the body bit.
I'll keep you posted. I'll be honest and open and I'll describe the colour of my urine a lot as they keep injecting me with ******* excellent dye and today my poo is turquoise and my pee is Aqua. This **** is epic!
I'm here. I'm passively fighting with my eyes wide open. I'm not going to imagine I won't win. It is an all or nothing game.
.... But my **** is blue....and that is ******* awesome.
