Today, January 15 2012, is three years since I was diagnosed with breast cancer. I remember the day clearly. Remember the days before, waiting for the biopsy results and The Yoga Man saying that he was sure if it was anything serious the doctor would ask me to come in. Hruumph! Bloody hell. (Sjoe, I am still angry, I see.)
I eventually phoned him, from my desk, in the open-plan office, and he told me: "Abormal cells". "Abormal cells?" I repeated. What does that mean? Cancer? "Oh, we don't like to use that word," he said.
Then I remember going to my GP later that day and phoning my sister from my car outside the rooms afterwards, crying. Sobbing.
Was at that same doctor yesterday, for my swollen ankle. Not deep-vein thrombosis and not heart disease, he said. Could be from when I fell (slipped on loose chiffon trousers as I was stepping onto a pavement and cut my knee badly - oh, and tore the trousers - and twisted this ankle but it was sore only for a day.....and that was about two weeks ago. Could be gout, he said, which seemed crazy to me. We never really persued that discussion but hell, I hardly ever eat red meat but when I looked up the list of foods that can cause gout, I eat loads of things which contain purines, such as sardines and anchovies.
Ja, three years. The other day I remember is February 5, the first day I started chemo. The date I finished hasn't stuck in my head (could look it up in this blog, I guess) even though that goes together with the day I was told I had no more cancer in my body. It's the 15th and the 5th that I remember.
I am glad that I am ok now. Grateful. And pray that I am ok. Seeing The Tango Man at the end of February, and have to have a load of tests before I do: mammogram, chest x-ray, abdominal scan. Oh, and blood tests too.
Actually feel quite emotional when I think of it all. Three years ago. Scary.
I eventually phoned him, from my desk, in the open-plan office, and he told me: "Abormal cells". "Abormal cells?" I repeated. What does that mean? Cancer? "Oh, we don't like to use that word," he said.
Then I remember going to my GP later that day and phoning my sister from my car outside the rooms afterwards, crying. Sobbing.
Was at that same doctor yesterday, for my swollen ankle. Not deep-vein thrombosis and not heart disease, he said. Could be from when I fell (slipped on loose chiffon trousers as I was stepping onto a pavement and cut my knee badly - oh, and tore the trousers - and twisted this ankle but it was sore only for a day.....and that was about two weeks ago. Could be gout, he said, which seemed crazy to me. We never really persued that discussion but hell, I hardly ever eat red meat but when I looked up the list of foods that can cause gout, I eat loads of things which contain purines, such as sardines and anchovies.
Ja, three years. The other day I remember is February 5, the first day I started chemo. The date I finished hasn't stuck in my head (could look it up in this blog, I guess) even though that goes together with the day I was told I had no more cancer in my body. It's the 15th and the 5th that I remember.
I am glad that I am ok now. Grateful. And pray that I am ok. Seeing The Tango Man at the end of February, and have to have a load of tests before I do: mammogram, chest x-ray, abdominal scan. Oh, and blood tests too.
Actually feel quite emotional when I think of it all. Three years ago. Scary.
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