Thoughts on This

There's a strange slipperiness in trying to describe how it feels to have this.

I still don't like to say the word.

A friend who went through a mastectomy celebrates her day of finding out; she takes to herself the role of admonishing us into checking for lumps and bumps, she's being the example. I think it helps her greatly and probably helps others too. Maybe it gives meaning, something good for people out of something bad. She was part of a parcel of mates who badgered me into getting a mole checked; their continual nagging probably saved my life.

I keep forgetting that this is not my first cancer diagnosis.

Melanoma's weird. But breast cancer is much more weird. There's everything society beams into your head about breasts and attractiveness etc. I can't talk about that right now.

My gentle telling friend does not know about my current situation. I know she would help every bit she could, but it might be a painful recollection, and she's had enough pain I suspect. I think of another survivor, my indomitably cheerful cousin after her double mastectomy, and her advice: Stay strong, go for walks, do healthy things, stay positive, do what you always did!

What advice would I give, really? First of all, I'd say not to get locked into lumps and bumps as the single thing to look for. Any difference in the breast/chest may be a sign. For me, the strongest symptom of all lies in the moment when you are staring in the mirror thinking Am I imagining things? Did it always feel like this/look like this/act like this? When that happens, go to the doctor. And when the doctor prods away and says 'it feels fine to me but let's get another opinion on it,' or even when they don't mention other opinions, go and get one anyway. Make sure.

I write this down, and feel dizzy as the words form.

Here's to the warrior queens and sunbeamers who refused to be daunted. I am like some cranky old donkey tottering along a path of mud and stone, panniers full on either side as I trot. The work I have recently done may, I hope, contribute to the good of folk. But it has also driven me to work as I used to be able to work, my tunnel vision a true asset that shuts out this little death sitting in my body, and diverts my mind so that my body can fight back undisturbed by fear or prattle. It's not easy and I can't sustain it for long, but I can do it.

There is a cost to all this, but I have mentioned all that before. I know the end result is worth it rather than feel that to be the case.

I ache all the time!

I wake at 6.30 am, 10.50 am I am done in. Anyway, today, despite the fact that much stuff awaits, I shall wait for the cleaner to finish, then watch the last episode of True Detective Season 4. Now, I'm not going to say that watching TD Season 4 is about as much fun as a course of Letrozole. But when it comes to a sense of grinding effort, there's not that much to choose between them.