It’s All About Perspective…..Right?
So, lovely readers, how is it that I can experience the proverbial hitting the fan, have grade 3 breast cancer in my right boob, have this boob so much bigger than my left because of a 10cm lump or mass with rogue cells trying to dampen my spirits and change the course of my life. Oh, and some lymph nodes ‘joining the cancer party’ for good measure, and yet I can feel, quite frankly, positively spritely and better than ever? Read on, and I will enlighten you.
I’m told a single mastectomy is probable after an 18-week course of chemotherapy, which, in essence, is poison entering my body, to kill off those nasty, god-forsaken, unwanted cells that are shouting loudly, ‘we are trying to take over your lovely life and perhaps shorten it whether you like it or not.’
Then radiotherapy will come calling, knocking on my peaceful door of life screaming, ‘I’M NEXT! You have ME to deal with after all that other stuff’. [Cue the evil pantomime character, hunched over and pointing its long, wart-ridden finger, laughing loudly in my face].
When I am sat recovering with one boob gone, perhaps a horizontal scar across my chest (I don’t know; I’ve yet to learn what is included in the ‘mastectomy surgery party bag’ but sure as hell won’t be party poppers, balloons and cake! Oh how I LOVE cake! Lemon drizzle being my absolute fave, closely followed by banana cake or just simple cupcakes with buttercream icing…..yum!)
Where was I…? Oh yes, that horizontal scar across my chest as a sign of what was once there…..my womanly asset, the assets that I quite like actually if you were to ask me that question, am quite happy with, thank you very much, a reasonable average size and shape! Too much information (TMI)….possibly….more likely, probably. Oh well, one thing you will know about me already, or will soon be quick to learn about me, is that I speak/type as I think. Whatever is in my head seems to just come out ‘on paper’ without a second thought. TMI should be my middle name….Abigail TMI not Abigail Charlotte.
And then what’s next…? What will the Powers That Be throw at me hard in the face after that? Ah yes, reconstruction of the right boobie. And, if I’m given the option, do I make the decision to have my left perfectly well-behaved breast sawn off and reconstructed too? Firstly, in a bid to prevent any more big C cells becoming unwanted residents. And secondly, so that both boobs end up being absolutely symmetrical or do I trust that the ‘good’ boob will be made to look just the same as its counterpart? The other one that is fake, not real, not really mine, not part of me, so to speak. And then there’s the recovery period after all that, where I will probably have to sleep upright for a few weeks. Mind you, that shouldn’t be too hard for me. I once fell asleep on a train bound for London on my way to a night out with friends, all dolled up, donning heels, holding onto one of those things that dangle down from the train ceiling for you to steady yourself. Do they have a name? A hand holding thingamejig…that’ll do. You know what I mean?
I expect I may not be able to lift up my son for a cuddle so he can whisper in my ear, which he has been saying recently, ‘Mummy, I’m going to look after you, I’ll take care of you.’ My boy…..my world!
And when several strands of hair kept coming out into my hand, threatening to clog my shower plughole, taking up residence in my hairbrush, giving the signal that I may go bald! Which, as I type this, has actually happened. Well, not strictly true….I took control in the end and ‘braved the shave’. (A whole separate blog for that one!).
So, that question again….How is it I can feel good, some might say, feel amazing, about what’s to come, with the odd tear for what lies ahead as I am actually human?
PERSPECTIVE…..that’s how! That’s the simple answer to that. It’s all about perspective.
‘Perspective – the way you see something, your outlook on a particular situation, your frame of mind, your attitude.’
Well, my attitude is this…..’Cancer…..do one, pretty please! Pick on someone else. Oh gosh, no actually, don’t do that. Don’t pick on anyone at all….EVER! Go and bury your ugly, unwanted, miserable head somewhere far away where nobody can find you…not even aliens from outer space! You don’t belong on this plane, you don’t belong anywhere. You can’t touch my high vibration feeling of…’there’s no way you’re beating me, no way you’re robbing me of my life, no way you will rob my little boy of his Mummy……ABSOLUTELY NO WAY, not a chance….so there!’ My fighting spirit will conquer all. I am a warrior!!
I quote from Deepak Chopra’s book, Quantum Healing, ‘When you’re feeling brave and invincible, your body is making neuropeptides similar to interleukin 2, which is one of the most powerful chemicals to fight cancer cells.’
So, done deal eh folks? Off you trot little C! Be on your way. And when you’re gone I will have the biggest celebration ever. In fact, I’ve already started celebrating in my mind so you DON’T STAND A CHANCE…..MATE!
Abbie’s Boobie Blog 