98. Friends

So. I have written in here before about the group of women I’ve made friends with on the Breast Cancer Care website. What I haven’t really talked about is the friendship I’ve developed with one of them in particular. It’s a very 21st Century friendship in that we’ve never met and never talked on the phone. We started out corresponding on Facebook but then after one of my chemo’s she started texting me and that’s how we chat now. We text backwards and forwards between 5 and 20 times a day. She’s a bit younger than me at 38 and she has had a mastectomy, I think due to her family history of breast cancer (her mum died from it). But other than those differences, we’re remarkably similar. She’s also done more to support me when I’ve been flaky than anyone else. It is SO helpful asking someone who is going through the same thing what she thinks. When I was having pains in my collar bone I asked her what she thought. I can tell her when I’m worried about the role diet plays in cancer (when I’m panicking because I’ve eaten junk food). She was there more than anyone else after chemo when I couldn’t see beyond how I felt and just wanted to die. I just hope that I’ve been some support to her too, although I think things are a bit unbalanced.

Although I’ve put on loads of weight on chemo and feel huge and ugly, K has lost weight, despite being slim already. We have sent each others photos on our phones and she is quite exceptionally pretty, although she doesn’t believe me. Ironically, despite the parity in our appearances (I really am not looking my best) it’s me that goes out and about as usual (Metrocentre on my own and bald yesterday) while K finds it really hard to leave the house. I think this has brought home to me just how much of the individuals experience of cancer, or illness in general, is about attitude. I don’t want to let my appearance affect how much I can do (none of those munters in town in bad sportswear seem to feel held back by being ugly, so why should I?). Which I suppose really is my feminism in action. Ironic though. K looks better bald, without eyelashes and eyebrows than I EVER have.

I hope at some point we get to meet. I also really hope that we manage to stay friends. At least that would mean that something good had come from the whole horrible experience.