When you have cancer you can get away with murder. I've been a bitch; it's because I have cancer. I send someone (usually an ex) a narky text; it's because I've got cancer. I spend £500 in one day on something I don't need; I'm allowed to, I'VE GOT CANCER. I don't want to go into work; I don't have to, I have CANCER. The possibilities are endless. Other pluses - future bionic boobs, critical illness cover meaning I might get my mortgage paid off, visitors who bring alcohol, months off work...but...I'm learning fast that cancer is also not so hilarious.
I'm reading too much and worrying about things that might happen, but might not. Not the dying part, I'm not up to that yet. The stuff they don't tell you when you get your diagnosis. The treatments you might have to have and the terrible side effects. Ovarian ablation, early menopause, the end to fertility, thinning hair, chemo, radio, drugs, drugs, drugs, the possibility that the evil C has spread beyong the breast. I think because I have sinusitus and am pre-menstrual (make the most of it!) that I'm being a bit negative. And on information overload.
B-girl has been my rock and when I feel a bit SH1T I can count on her to put me right. Why am I worrying about things that I might not have to go through? BECAUSE I HAVE CANCER! Meh.
I have to go to work in a bit. If I can get in. Apparently my journey in could be foiled due to thousands of iron men. Life is surreal sometimes.
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