Really, really didn't want to get up today. Didn't sleep well, up at 4 and then 5. When I finally got up I could feel the beginnings of a stress headache. I really have no excuse not to be at work though, so got on with it. In the car, listening to the news. There's a new website in the North East that allows women with breast cancer to predict their chances of survival by entering their data (size of tumor etc etc).
Every time I hear something like this, its like a slap in the face. While I AM terrified of it spreading/recurring/developing secondary cancer, I'm even more sick of my fucking life being defined by this. I want to be at work; teaching, stressing, being driven mad by incomplete coursework, irritating kids, unreasonable management demands. THOSE I can control. And do well at. At cancer, it seems, all I can do is fail.
Oncologist later. Oh, wonder if S is at work? Wonder if she's in labour?
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