So having spent a good portion of this week, being poked, prodded, ultra sounded and mammogrammed, and then waiting….and waiting…my results have finally arrived.
I took my partner, who volunteered because I’m a mess when getting results. (Too busy crying to pay attention.) I was so sick in my stomach, and so worried, that by the time we got into see the GP, I had worked myself up into worse case possible scenario.
But listening to the results – which basically said the lump was not presenting as breast cancer. I could have a biopsy ( not right now I need to think about this), that I would definitely need to keep an eye on it, and be ultra sounded all over again in 3 months.
It’s a result, one that was a lot better than what I was thinking about when I should have been sleeping for the last week. The shadow of cancer hangs over all my siblings, and I have dodged the bullet. But as my rational and logical partner said – at least I’ve got some solid baselines, that the GP can monitor my changes from….because I go in for tests on a regular basis for all the other cancers I have a hereditary tendency for.
On top of this yesterday was my Mum’s birthday, and grief over the loss of her certainly played a large part in my worry over what would happen to my child if I was to die. I spoke to my sister in law about taking on our child should the worst happen to us both…. she was so supportive…and kind….
But for now, I just get to play the waiting game, while my body decides what to do about this lump of mine. Not sure what else I can write at the moment, the news is still so fresh and I need time to digest it.
Thank you for the kind words and support.
An incredibly powerful article by Anne Ursu, that details the harassment workers in the Children’s Book industry experience. A reminder that we have a long way to go…..
Emily Asher-Perrin writes a thought provoking article on the relationship between Harry Potter and Gun Control. For someone who lives outside of the crazy mess that is the United States of America, it’s an interesting take – and I so hope that those who are actively campaigning for Gun Control win – as Harry and the Order did.
I have had friends experience this traumatic event. I still am amazed at the cone of silence that often descends and silences people from talking about it. I remember sitting in my office, just listening to a friend who had just returned to work. I let her talk, and just gave her the opportunity to be listened to. I was the only one to do so. We wept together and I held her while she cried and expressed herself, all the while still being pregnant with my own child. We were due to give birth within weeks of each other. She visited me and held my son while we were in hospital. I had other friends who had suffered from miscarriage also visit, and hold “our” baby.
I know how hurtful it is, when people turn away from talking about death, grief and loss. I will never knowingly allow a person who is hurting, to be ignored or have their conversation shut down because it deals with loss.
Please end the stigma, and reach out to someone today.
For an informative article on this issue please visit: Research reveals the ‘silent treatment’ hurting bereaved parents
This piece sums up how important Le Guin was for all of us. I shall miss her.
Bright the Hawk’s Flight on the Empty Sky: Ursula K. Le Guin
Life flew by and I’m around again to the month that I find the hardest to deal with. You see my Mother died at the beginning of January and my Father at the end of January. Yes there was a few years between them, Mum died in 1998, Dad followed her five years later, but for me January is the worst kind of month.
It’s the month I dread for the rest of the eleven, because even though the years have flown by since I lost them, the grief is still there. It hides away, waiting for something or someone to remind you, to then flare up and you’ll find yourself (or I do) standing there in public with tears rolling down my cheeks. I find that hard black lump in my throat as I stand or sit or even lay there and really feel the loss that they have left behind.
I cuddle my partner, our child, our animals to try and salve this wound, and yet that isn’t enough, and will never really fill it up. I’ve learnt to move on, to accept this grief as a small part of who I am, and adapt to the new paradigm that exists. And for folk who have never lost anyone in this permanent sort of way, it doesn’t make a lot of sense. But for those of us who have, and will live a different life afterwards we do understand.
Catching up with friends, it is the ones who have lost something or someone (a relationship or a person) that understand it more. Who get where I’m coming from. Who accept the older woman with tears on her cheeks in public, mourning her loss in public.