I am up in the middle of the night writing this blog, in these the last few hours of ‘Nervous Nellie November’. Six years ago this month, I was in shock at my breast cancer diagnosis. At the time, I was 46 with my cancer being found via a regular breast screen – without sign, without symptom and no family history.
November is a triggering time for me.
This year, I am finally feeling almost on top of this breast cancer shit.
For the first time since diagnosis, my mind has not conjured up weird, phantom pain somewhere in my body to make me think the ‘Big Fuckin’ Giant called Cancer’ is back. This is how I refer to the fear of recurrence in my book ‘Show Us Your Tits – Baring All and Beating Breast Cancer’. Cancer IS a scary beast and acknowledging that with a sweary name, is somewhat in itself, cathartic.
Past Novembers have seen me present to my doctor with various woes. From intense and unrelenting pain, to constant niggling aches that will not dissipate, or some that ebb and flow, come and go and then flare up causing me to double-over in agony.
Once it was a 5-day headache that impaired my vision. I don’t really get headaches often, so this made me stop and take note. The speed at which my doctor wrote out a referral for a CT scan had me already visualising the brain tumour that I was sure was sitting behind my right eye.
Nope. All clear.
Another November my right hip ached so much, I was hobbling about, sure I had secondary breast cancer growing in my hip bone. Again, scans indicated nothing of the sort. I’m just getting old - general wear and tear for a 50-year-old.
Aching hips, headaches, shooting pelvic and abdominal pain, lower back pain – have all flared up over various Novembers, but this year……. ALL GOOD! I can yell that out now because November is all but over! Yippee!
Being told I had cancer was quite the trauma, and perhaps I can consider these November ‘ailments’ as evidence of that, a type of PTSD if you will. At the time, I just marched on through it all. As stoic as possible, determined to ‘smash cancer to the kerb’ and all those other inspiring quotes you hear people use.
It seemed to be after the active treatment, after chemo and multiple surgeries that my stoic determination began to unravel, and typical me, I have let it unravel in fits and starts, little by little, slowly over time, so as to keep in some sort of control of it all – even if only in my own head.
But in the quiet of the night, in the wee hours of the morning, when you are awake, like I am now, and completely alone with your thoughts, it can be a time to reflect deeply on all you have overcome and be grateful for good health and well-being. It can be over-looked and under valued in our busy and fulfilling lives. I rarely over-look it now, and it is number one on my most valued possession list, because tomorrow it may be gone – SNAP! Just like that!
Over these past six years you could say that I have taken this shitty breast cancer thing and run with it. With almost 5000 followers on the Can at 40. Do at 45. Facebook campaign, with hours dedicated to spreading these important breast cancer and screening messages to women in their 40s, I’ve created something good out of a crappy situation. The campaign has, and will continue to, save Australian lives – so it is easy to prioritise it and keep shouting this stuff from the rooftops.
The drive for me, has always been the lives of women 40-49, with breast cancer so prevalent and women in this demographic almost completely unaware of the dangers. I no longer seem to be on the personal breast cancer treadmill, but I will always be amping up that speed dial for clearer, and more inclusive age parameters for screening, until the government decides to act on their own evidence and invest in ‘40 something’ women through inclusive promotions.
And then there is the book. (My book. I still can’t believe I have a book. Eeek!)
It is yet another good outcome from this shitty breast cancer thing – who would have thought I’d be a published author – not me! It is just another way that I am yelling this stuff from the rooftops, for anyone who will listen. If you have a woman in your life that is ‘40 something’ – friend, sister, daughter, relative - then reading this memoir will give her the facts, and introduce her to the raw and realistic world of breast cancer. It will arm her with knowledge, information and awareness of the importance of knowing her normal and getting regular checks. This stuff could save her life! I am also available to speak to groups of women (and men!). I have a couple of speaking events lined up in the next months and a podcast in the pipeline. Of course, all profits from book sales stay in the BC world, going directly to Breast Cancer Care WA.
A colleague of mine told me on Tuesday of her friend, just diagnosed a couple of weeks ago. Yesterday, she had a single mastectomy and breast reconstruction surgery. A timeline, much like my own. Diagnosed, shocked, disorientated, discombobulated and not really comprehending what’s happening, but having to make HUGE decisions about all sorts of medical procedures in such a small window of time, still not knowing much at all about prognosis.
Might heart goes out to her, it’s a tough gig.
So, as I reminisce – NO! That’s the wrong word. Reminisce has connotations of joy, pleasure and happiness. Hmm. I’ll try that again.
So, as I reflect on my diagnosis (and shudder), I feel lucky to be here, alive and well and I am proud of the contributions I have made, and continue to make, in this world of breast cancer.
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