My Missing BooB Hurts

Doesn’t that sound weird? I feel weird complaining about my missing boob hurting but the hole that leftie left is a bit painful today. Pft, to be expected blah blah blah.

Today I had a good day though with a lovely morning coffee and catch up with night nurse during day hours but tonight has been a struggle. The ol’ anxiety crap is back and has me thinking of heaps of stuff. And that stuff is all mixed up and mumbled and I have sent a few messages to those I have been thinking off…..

One of the main things that has been on my mind lately is a lady called Mia. My cancer is nothing compared to what she, and others deal with day in and day out. I am in a pretty good place being that the boob, lymph nodes and (fingers crossed) cancer has all been removed.

Yeah I have six months of chemo – we are now calling the this internal spa therapy – and then a few months/year of radiation and hormone therapy but really, I am in a good place. The doctors, nurses and oncologists are hopeful and confident I am going to beat this bitch.

There are others, like my Mia, who will live with their challenge each and every day for the rest of their lives. One day I’ll work out how to tag a blog and if there is a blog you want to read to ground you, to make you look around and realise how amazing our lives really are, you want to read about Mia and her ‘growing lot’.

I am not going to go into it in depth but I realise I have a way out of my issue. Mine will be hard, long and yucky but nothing compared to Mia and her travels with not just all three of her gorgeous babies but with Juno especially.

Tonight my anxiety was super high and I was pissed off to be honest. I was in a place where people like Mia would have adored to have been in. I had two gorgeous dogs cuddled up with me on my sofa and they are not little dogs so I was super warm. I had a cold glass of sparkling wine and was watching all of the home shows on the tv. What the hell was I anxious about? I was living the dream! Ok yeah, living with cancer isn’t actually living the dream but shit, it is a whole lot better than a heap of people in South Australia are living today.

My thoughts went to Mia struggling to get three children to bed, special girl Juno settled, looking at a mountain of housework, dishes, laundry etc. I knew she wasn’t sitting back with a bottle of bubbly watching her favourite shows on TV with her dogs either side of her.

I also thought about a man, of an age unable to be guessed, Dr Hands and I saw yesterday on the way to the oncologists office. He was the owner of three trollies. He had sandals on his disgustingly dirty feet were too small for him. His face showed the life of living on the streets, his trollies were his possessions. He wasn’t sitting in a lovely home enjoying a lovely glass of sparkling wine with his dogs, with a partner who loved him, the combustion fire warming his home.

Who the hell am I to complain or suffer from anxiety when really, I have it all.

Oh yeah, so I have cancer. So what! A million other people around the world have cancer too. Some of them have the not so good cancer, the one where you don’t get to have it cut out and chemo’ed and rediated and stuff. The cancer that ends everything for them and those around them. I dont have that cancer so why the hell am I out of sorts?

To cheer me up, I decided to look up some websites that had pretty, quirky, different headscarves for my upcoming baldness and geebus, I am going to need to sell half of my belongings to buy just one bloody head scarf! A normal scarf doesn’t seem to be able to cut it. We need these fitted things that cost half a damn mortgage payment.

My darling sister bought me three scarfs in her care package and one of them was a Laura Ashley one (yes, I do love a good brand name and also love to drop said brand names) and whilst it is amazing, I dont think it will do my head. There are two other polka dot scarfs in the care package that I totally love too but these fitted ones on line seem so much easier. Given the price of the fitted and quirky ones, I think I am going to have to learn to tie a cancer chemo half boobless girl type of head covering with these gorgeous scarves from my sister.

People say that as soon as you mention the word ‘wedding’ all the prices of things go up three times the normal amount. Well let me tell you, cancer can do the same. With the Big C words, it is either given to you as a charity item with tears in THEIR eyes or is priced beyond belief that it leaves tears in YOUR eyes.

What does make me laugh and almost cry at the same time is when ever I have tried a beanie on, I have thought to myself, geez, I look like a bloody cancer patient. Well… what can I say to that now? I am a bloody cancer patient so be bald, look cancer stricken and be done with it.

End drunken rant for tonight…. so far. I have opened another bottle so anything could come out from here on in …..