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It’s not what you think. If indeed you do think about it before being diagnosed. My initial breast cancer diagnosis came in February 2007 and I was re-diagnosed with secondaries in October 2009. Along with all the feelings of shock, isolation and fear comes something unexpected and most welcome. Love. And it comes from all directions.
I was in my final semester of university as a mature student when I started my first lot of chemotherapy; I had a great set of friends, people I had met through university, through the theatre group I worked with and through being a girl and having lovely girlfriends. Having done a bit of travelling, I was also lucky enough to have friends dotted around the globe; in my hometown and the various cities I’d lived since leaving there 16 years before.
My husband commented that when he spoke to people about my cancer it was like joining a secret society. Existing friends revealed a sister or niece that had also been diagnosed or introduced you to another friend who had a similar diagnosis and everyone, absolutely everyone was rooting for me. Extended family started praying for me, as did a friend’s local church (my family aren’t religious church going types but that didn’t seem to stop anybody praying), cards and gifts arrived from far and wide. And so did those friends. A friend in Sydney (who’s son is my Godson) jumped on a plane to spend my 42nd birthday with me. Family members only previously seen at weddings and funerals swapped email addresses; distant friends reconnected. We hear a lot about social networking. This was simply people who cared getting in touch.
It didn’t stop there. I had proposed doing a ‘blog’ as part of my dissertation. I was going to do it on a subject too dull to contemplate. My tutor insisted I write about my cancer. I explained it was too personal to publish on the worldwide web and besides, I didn’t know how it was going to go. She pushed, I folded and my first blog was born. I felt incredibly self-conscious and tried to keep it light and witty. My friends followed and we all supported each other. Then I started getting comments and messages from people I didn’t know; one reader’s mother had breast cancer and wouldn’t discuss it with her; my blog answered many questions her mother wouldn’t and helped this 19 year old understand. Another had lost her mother and it was now too late to ask those questions that I could answer. Other readers wrote to agree with me and support my thoughts and ideas and then this morning, @bahtocancer invited all her readers to write a guest blog on her site and now you’re reading part of my story.
Cancer, you are cruel, brutal and uncompromising; you do not discriminate. If I have learnt one thing from you it is that. Do not discriminate, enjoy everybody around you and feel the love that both friends met and friends not yet met can share.
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I like what Carolyn has to say here, and I’m pleased that she’s come over to Bah! to say it. You can follow her on Twitter here, and she blogs here.
After spending Sunday with Alan packing up the house, and yesterday travelling to my parents’ in phase one of Operation Move (Joy and Mr. Whiskers), I’ll be back with a blog post tomorrow. See you then! And feel free to contact me about your own guest blog via email. You don’t have to be a cancer survivor to write here: you just have something interesting to say. Now the focus of the blog is shifting towards survivorship, and well….. we’ve all survived something, haven’t we?
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