Small (Big) Achievements

Today I feel happy!

So I've decided to share!

Do you ever feel you go through life not noticing the good things that are happening instead of focusing on the bad things that happen only occasionally? - When you have a headache, you say to people: "I've got a headache..." but when you don't have one, you probably don't celebrate - every day - the fact that you haven't got one.

Gratitude! That's what I'm talking about. Daily gratitude.

Funny thing happened yesterday that I'm trying not to focus too much on - at least the negative side of it. Every day at work I make myself climb 3/4 flights of stairs (depending where I park my car), not only because I'm trying to be healthy, but because I want to improve myself and be the best version of me. So yesterday, as I was doing my usual stair climbing in the morning - and I must say I'm not a morning person - this other lady, older than me, walked past me and said: "Come on, it's only morning, you should have a little more energy", I politely smiled and said: "I'm just not a morning person." Although at that point I felt judged by her. I just wish people wouldn't assume you are healthy and fit just because you look it. But then, instead of focusing on the negative thoughts all this could lead to, I've decided to celebrate the achievement.
- A lot of people would take the lift, and I take the stairs
- Two months ago I would have to stop half way to catch my breath
- One month ago I would get in the department and would barely be able to say good morning without having to catch breath between the good and the morning.
- Today I reach the department door almost catching my breath.
One step at a time. I will get the fitness level I'm aiming for. I am doing the best as I can with what I have!

Also yesterday, for the first time in a few weeks I realised something that I can't remember when was the last time I had noticed it. My irradiated nipple stopped being over sensitive. The funny thing is I used to notice it every day even clothes rubbing against it would bother me, and now it stopped but I just don't know when. I stopped focusing on that, because it stopped being a problem, but forgot to appreciate the fact that it doesn't bother me as much anymore. Same with my joint aches, when did they stop? I have no idea. The only thing I know is I had them in January and now I don't.

It's definitely a process, things don't stop from one day to the other, they get better slow and steady without you even noticing, until you do and they'll be gone. It's a little bit every day, like M always say: It's like making a sculpture, you chisel a little bit every day.

And then, today, for the first in 5 months I touched my toes when stretching!!!

This might seem a silly achievement for the majority of the population but it's a huge one that I've been trying to conquer for a long time! And once again: A little bit every day!

The lesson for today is: Whatever your struggle is today, and whatever you're aiming for in the future, it will get better, and you'll get there. Slow and steady - just like the Tortoise!

P.x

Life After Cancer and Yearly Scans

Three weeks ago I went once again to another appointment to where it all began.

This time a very hopeful and quick mammogram - the yearly one that I will be invited to every April until I'm 50.

Went back a week later to be seen by the surgeon to have a chat and the results. To my surprise, it wasn't the surgeon that was waiting me. As much as I love Dr W. I know she's never a carrier of good news, and I only realised this when I walked in the room with her and the words "I wasn't expecting to see you" came out of my mouth. - Wait! Dr. W is the consultant Radiologist. She's the one who saw my scans and perhaps wants to discuss them a bit further instead of a "all good you can go, see you next year" kind of thing. - For a split second I didn't know what to feel, but as charming as Dr W. is she instantly explained the situation. They found something in the scan, but the previous mammogram they have is pre-surgery and as the tissues inside have been moved and scar tissue has been formed, it's hard to see what's good and what's not. For this they are trained to think the worst. To act quick. To save our lives. I did explain that since my surgery I had this blob of scar tissue that doesn't allow me to have full range of movement of my arm, and for one she said it was good that I hadn't felt any changes, but we still had to check. Obviously there was tears, I wasn't expecting this. I was expecting a 5 min appointment where someone would say everything is ok.

Going into the ultrasound/biopsy room again is my worst nightmare as brings so many bad memories. The panic is always there, the "what if's" become so real. They need to start giving a heads up -"On your first scan there's 90% chances you'll be called back because the scar tissue looks like cancer in mammograms and we need to be sure" - If no one ever told you this, here's me paying my good deed to the world.
Turns out my big annoying scar does look like cancer but fortunately it's just a scar! Phew! - That's that worry gone!!!

Another thing I've been worrying about thought, is the risk of lymphoedema, I live in a terrible fear that it might happen. Around a month or so ago I woke up with a swollen chest, full of indents from the bed sheets and, as it's natural, I panicked. After a conversation with breast care nurse and reassurance from the doctor on my results appointment, it's been said that it is definitely oedema but more caused by tissue damaged from radiotherapy. Apparently it is one of the side effects from it, so I will have to cope with it. For how long? 6 months to 2 years is how long radiotherapy effects can linger in your body! - Oh great! - Any tips to avoid it? Lay on the other side so there's not that much fluid build up on that side - Oh and have a terrible and broken night sleep because you'll be constantly thinking about what side you're laying on (as if you didn't have enough sleep issues already with a wondering mind).

Being on this side of the endless tunnel, I can safely say the cancer journey is more difficult when it comes to an end. At least for most people is.
When I was faced with the diagnose, although I didn't really wanted to believe it, I kinda did what I always do in difficult situations: get on with it until you finish it, so then you can relax.
Perhaps that was the best way to deal with it for a very long time: don't think, just do it. So my soul just travelled through treatment and life for 10 whole months. And then it stopped. Do you know what happens when you suddenly do an emergency stop? Everything stays still. And your body feels numb with the adrenaline, you can't breath, you CAN'T relax! - This was me for the last 3 months.

I went through a very dark place. Questioned everything and everyone. Made life a little bit miserable for the person that had been there for me during every pain and every smile. Made life miserable for myself. I've realised I blocked so many memories that sometimes I go back to and think "how did I even manage that?" I stopped being the cheerful person I've always known to be this dark soul just floating around pretending to live a life among the living. I had nothing to look forward to, nothing to be happy about, nothing I was proud of. Only anger. There's still some of it remaining, but it comes and goes, in pair with gratitude. I'm now thankful for so many things and starting to feel the joys of life. I'm back to work and I've got my purpose again. I'm reconnecting with M and with myself. I'm finding my life again and my routines, learning the new me, the new us.

We can now understand how much cancer can affect a relationship. It's not just the physical side of things, it's the mental strain, the goals that change, the beliefs, the daily life. It's an atomic bomb that gets dropped and you are both left with the pieces to glue back together without the picture of what it was before. It's facing a future of uncertainty but still want to face it together. This either makes you or breaks you. And it's ok both ways. You just have to learn to accept the new reality. - M and I are in the process.

I'll be honest that around four months ago I started hating the hair growth and wanted to keep cutting it as it made me comfortable. But my twisted mind also wants my long hair to come quick. So I decided to put up with it - not get over it because I still hate it. No matter how much people say they love my short hair and that I rock it, I don't think I do. I don't recognise myself in the mirror, can't get used to style it, it's not practical and it gives me grief every morning.
And again, I'm grateful I've got hair, but angry that have to go through a hair growth process I didn't ask for.

Post cancer life is not full of smiles and celebrations as people might think. It's a constant struggle between the life you had and the life you have. The adjustments, the tiredness, the worries, the hopes and the dreams.



P.x