The support group on the Breast Cancer Care site that I belong to has been invaluable to me. They’ve supported me, advised me and made me laugh. They’ve also provided me with K, a great new friend. I don’t use the site quite as much as I did at first though. As I’ve grown in confidence and got used to my diagnosis, I’ve stopped centering my whole life around cancer and have reintroduced a lot of my old habits and pastimes. Most of the women from the site are also on FB though, so even when I’m not on the BCC site, I keep up to date with them.
Imagine the scene; staffroom Monday morning, bustle of staff preparing for the week ahead, a pile of marking that I was avoiding by having a brief internet surf. Emails, blog, FB. At the top of the Facebook status updates, one from a support group member letting us know her breast cancer has spread to her lungs.
Everything stops. Suddenly, I’m in a bubble. The sounds around me have vanished. I’m on my own in that room. Cancer spread. After chemo. Post radio therapy. She was clear. Or at least she thought she was clear when we met up in December. She has a five year old. Oh god. I read down the responses to her update. Everyone is offering support, consoling, encouraging her to talk to them. And I don’t know what to say. I feel awful for her. The thought of leaving a young child is devastating. But, and this is a really big, selfish, embarrassing to admit to, but. I’m not just thinking of her. Her news has made me think of myself. Which equally makes me think about how bloody selfish it is that I should turn her bad news on myself. I’m scared that mine could have spread without me knowing about it. I haven’t had an MRI, which is the scan that would pick up cancer elsewhere. I could have it anywhere and not know.
Everyone that has cancer hates it. That’s obvious and I don’t need to say it really. I of all people should know that a writer really shouldn’t write the obvious. If it’s obvious, it’s unnecessary. But while it’s obvious that everyone hates cancer, what I really really fucking hate is the way the FEAR of cancer controls us. I’m so frightened that her news could be mine that I can’t just think of her. I’m thinking about myself too.
Friday, 11 March 2011
117. A little bit of sunshine
I’ve been feeling a bit tired, don’t know if it’s radio therapy or just because I’m not sleeping. Don’t know if I’m not sleeping because it’s my usual insomnia or because of the radio therapy. Uhhh. So I’m at work. It’s Friday and despite not working anything even resembling a normal timetable, I’m tired. I’m a bit down, not sure why. My Head of Department had asked me previously if I could cover her year 12 literature lesson. A teacher training student was teaching and I just needed to be there with her. I was fine with it. It didn’t sound like a lot of work and I planned to sit and mark in the back of the classroom while the student taught.
So I turned up at the beginning of the lesson. Much to my delight, my previous year’s year 11 students started walking in. It got better. The student wasn’t teaching; a cover supervisor was. It was a minute’s work to persuade him that I’d been asked to do the lesson. He handed over the plan and was gone.
The plan was a sentence. Annotate 2 poems of their choice. We agreed they’d do the same 2 poems, copied them and started. I scanned the poems. Fabulous! The kids had picked 2 poems covering a favourite theme of mine; exposing and undermining capitalism. Oh the bliss! Standing at the front of the classroom, analysing poems with clever, lively, interested pupils. Fab, fab, fab.
I floated through the rest of the day. Things like that make life worth living!
So I turned up at the beginning of the lesson. Much to my delight, my previous year’s year 11 students started walking in. It got better. The student wasn’t teaching; a cover supervisor was. It was a minute’s work to persuade him that I’d been asked to do the lesson. He handed over the plan and was gone.
The plan was a sentence. Annotate 2 poems of their choice. We agreed they’d do the same 2 poems, copied them and started. I scanned the poems. Fabulous! The kids had picked 2 poems covering a favourite theme of mine; exposing and undermining capitalism. Oh the bliss! Standing at the front of the classroom, analysing poems with clever, lively, interested pupils. Fab, fab, fab.
I floated through the rest of the day. Things like that make life worth living!
Thursday, 3 March 2011
116. Fate
I’ve been quite low for the last few days. Things are getting on top of me, what with the constant hospital appointments, worry, daily radiotherapy, R. I also think radio is starting to make me tired because my energy levels are dipping, although I’m not sleeping well either.
So today I wasn’t happy about coming in to work. The pupil I should see first thing is avoiding me (lazy bugger) so I trotted off to my second appointment of the day. Lo and behold, he too had truanted (something I don’t know?). I was sitting having a chat with the SENCO (special educational needs coordinator) when in lolloped one of my near do wells from last year (year 10 then, year 11 now).
It just so happened that this boy is one I’ve been concerned about off and on since I’ve been off sick. I never managed to get through to him last year, despite his fairly high level of ability in English and this had dented my pride. The kids that I usually excel with are the difficult ones. And this kid had slipped through my net. This rankled. I was irritated and worried in equal measures. The sight of him this morning didn’t immediately register, although when the SENCO asked if I’d like to do some work with him, my ears pricked up. He’s been kicked out of main stream school (I’m gobsmacked that this didn’t happen years ago – given the level of his bad behaviour) and is now on a 1/3 timetable.
We worked for about 30 mins. He wasn’t over eager but just as I’d remembered, he was very able. I had to keep pushing him, but he managed, very capably some entry level GCSE work. After he’d done the work, we chatted about the exam. He doesn’t want to do it. Fear I think. He really should though. He’s very able and knows it, and knows I know it too. Getting him a C at GCSE would be fabulous. It would be really good for his ego as well.
I just can’t quite believe really that this kid has been thrown my way now. After having him on my mind quite a lot of the time and feeling that I’d failed him, getting a chance to make up for it is wonderful. It almost feels a bit like fate (not that I believe in that sort of thing) and helped make me feel a little better than I did at the beginning of the day. :-)
So today I wasn’t happy about coming in to work. The pupil I should see first thing is avoiding me (lazy bugger) so I trotted off to my second appointment of the day. Lo and behold, he too had truanted (something I don’t know?). I was sitting having a chat with the SENCO (special educational needs coordinator) when in lolloped one of my near do wells from last year (year 10 then, year 11 now).
It just so happened that this boy is one I’ve been concerned about off and on since I’ve been off sick. I never managed to get through to him last year, despite his fairly high level of ability in English and this had dented my pride. The kids that I usually excel with are the difficult ones. And this kid had slipped through my net. This rankled. I was irritated and worried in equal measures. The sight of him this morning didn’t immediately register, although when the SENCO asked if I’d like to do some work with him, my ears pricked up. He’s been kicked out of main stream school (I’m gobsmacked that this didn’t happen years ago – given the level of his bad behaviour) and is now on a 1/3 timetable.
We worked for about 30 mins. He wasn’t over eager but just as I’d remembered, he was very able. I had to keep pushing him, but he managed, very capably some entry level GCSE work. After he’d done the work, we chatted about the exam. He doesn’t want to do it. Fear I think. He really should though. He’s very able and knows it, and knows I know it too. Getting him a C at GCSE would be fabulous. It would be really good for his ego as well.
I just can’t quite believe really that this kid has been thrown my way now. After having him on my mind quite a lot of the time and feeling that I’d failed him, getting a chance to make up for it is wonderful. It almost feels a bit like fate (not that I believe in that sort of thing) and helped make me feel a little better than I did at the beginning of the day. :-)
Wednesday, 2 March 2011
115. On and on
Went out Friday with S. Haven’t seen her for ages so it was nice to catch up. I definitely noticed that I don’t have a lot to talk about anymore. Because I don’t do much, I have no news! She has offered to come to my plastics appointment with me though, which is fantastic now R has lost interest.
Didn’t go anywhere or do anything over the weekend other than driving to Tynemouth for a couple of hours. I really must be more proactive and just go off and do stuff myself. R WAS being very nice to me and appeared to be quite contrite for being thoughtless last week and on the surface we’re getting along OK but I have a definite feeling that it’s just borrowed time now. I really wish I was up to making a decision about him but…
Appointment with the surgeon for a follow up today. I’d got a list of things to talk about, including pain in my boob in 3 different places, pain in my chest bone/ribcage/collar bone, and a couple of lumps. I didn’t bother asking or even mentioning it to R because, frankly, after his disinterest last time I didn’t want another rejection. I went home the night before so there wouldn’t be any awkwardness the next morning; not to benefit him, but to reduce the stress for me.
I was fine on the metro and walking to the hospital. I was even fine going into the clinic. While I was waiting there though, I looked around. I was the only one in there on her own. All the other women had male partners with them. At radiotherapy everyone has someone with them (although I’m not bothered about radio – it’s worry free, other than the parking). I started feeling a little vulnerable and lonely but tried to read my book. No concentration though. And then I felt my stomach start to turn over. And worse, I felt my mind and resolve turn mushy and my concentration go. Unfortunately, I know that feeling only too well. It leaves me pathetic and unable to fight my corner; exactly what I didn’t need in that bloody consulting room. Which is why it's important to take someone with me.
Sure enough, I went in, undressed, lay down and let him examine me. I made a half hearted comment about lumpiness but didn’t insist he feel exactly in the area that I was worried about or ask if he could feel it with me sitting up (which is how I check my boobs and how the lump was obvious). I tried to talk to him about which referrals had been done but didn’t take in everything he said and was confused and unclear in my explanations. I DID manage to ask him about the pain, told him I’d had it for 5 or 6 weeks and he told me to keep an eye on it and go to the GP or contact the clinic if I was worried. He also said I needed to reduce my weight and to be less concerned with risk reducing surgery as I was more at risk from the cancer I’d already had than the cancer linked to my genetic risk.
I’m just confused in general now. I don’t know if the lumps I have are OK or not. Is the pain I’m getting normal? I don’t know who I see about a mastectomy and whether they are also responsible for reconstruction or if plastics do both or two different surgeons. I’m not sure if the referral has been done to gynaecology for oophrectomy or hysterectomy. I also don’t know what to do about R. There doesn’t seem much point in having a ‘fair weather’ partner but I’ve got so much other stuff going on, I don’t know if I’m up to sorting stuff out with him, one way or the other.
Didn’t go anywhere or do anything over the weekend other than driving to Tynemouth for a couple of hours. I really must be more proactive and just go off and do stuff myself. R WAS being very nice to me and appeared to be quite contrite for being thoughtless last week and on the surface we’re getting along OK but I have a definite feeling that it’s just borrowed time now. I really wish I was up to making a decision about him but…
Appointment with the surgeon for a follow up today. I’d got a list of things to talk about, including pain in my boob in 3 different places, pain in my chest bone/ribcage/collar bone, and a couple of lumps. I didn’t bother asking or even mentioning it to R because, frankly, after his disinterest last time I didn’t want another rejection. I went home the night before so there wouldn’t be any awkwardness the next morning; not to benefit him, but to reduce the stress for me.
I was fine on the metro and walking to the hospital. I was even fine going into the clinic. While I was waiting there though, I looked around. I was the only one in there on her own. All the other women had male partners with them. At radiotherapy everyone has someone with them (although I’m not bothered about radio – it’s worry free, other than the parking). I started feeling a little vulnerable and lonely but tried to read my book. No concentration though. And then I felt my stomach start to turn over. And worse, I felt my mind and resolve turn mushy and my concentration go. Unfortunately, I know that feeling only too well. It leaves me pathetic and unable to fight my corner; exactly what I didn’t need in that bloody consulting room. Which is why it's important to take someone with me.
Sure enough, I went in, undressed, lay down and let him examine me. I made a half hearted comment about lumpiness but didn’t insist he feel exactly in the area that I was worried about or ask if he could feel it with me sitting up (which is how I check my boobs and how the lump was obvious). I tried to talk to him about which referrals had been done but didn’t take in everything he said and was confused and unclear in my explanations. I DID manage to ask him about the pain, told him I’d had it for 5 or 6 weeks and he told me to keep an eye on it and go to the GP or contact the clinic if I was worried. He also said I needed to reduce my weight and to be less concerned with risk reducing surgery as I was more at risk from the cancer I’d already had than the cancer linked to my genetic risk.
I’m just confused in general now. I don’t know if the lumps I have are OK or not. Is the pain I’m getting normal? I don’t know who I see about a mastectomy and whether they are also responsible for reconstruction or if plastics do both or two different surgeons. I’m not sure if the referral has been done to gynaecology for oophrectomy or hysterectomy. I also don’t know what to do about R. There doesn’t seem much point in having a ‘fair weather’ partner but I’ve got so much other stuff going on, I don’t know if I’m up to sorting stuff out with him, one way or the other.
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