Jane Ballot

Being me in the world

Thursday 22nd January

I seem to be going through a phase when I am acutely aware of what has happened to me. I think it’s because it feels as though I have strained the muscles under and around my right arm. Well, partly because of that. Maybe it’s just that one gets introspective and starts to think about a myriad of things.

At the same time, though, I am not dwelling on the whole thing. Part of me is very accepting and philosophical and will just go with what happens. Another part of me is the control freak and tries to get everything on track just so it is predictable and understandable.

Strange combination.

I also truly believe in following guidance when it is given – and makes sense! In some ways, I suppose that that sounds like I will do something if it is what I want to hear. I don’t think so, though. I am generally a logical person. I like to know how things work.

If I get sick, I must know both ends of the spectrum and then I can understand where I fit in.

I think that may be one of the reasons that I have been able to cope with this cancer thing quite so well – at least, I am told that I have 🙂

From the moment the lump was found, I have been aware of what it could be. I think it is because I grew up in a medical household – particularly in a Gynae’s house – that I understand about lumps in the breast and what they can mean. I knew immediately that it could be benign, or that it could be malignant. I also knew quite a lot about the worst and best case scenarios – otherwise I asked.

From right in the beginning, I asked questions about mastectomies and understood that that may be the option. That is what helped me to understand everything the docs were saying about my particular cancer.

It’s one thing to understand, though, and another to live with it.

My roller-coaster ride through diagnosis, tests, operation and treatment is coming to an end.

I will see the oncologist in just over two weeks and he will plot the way forward. It will be an ongoing process of check-ups, tests etc, but at a very reduced rate from the last 4+ months.

Yay. I really do need a break from being the object of so much medical attention.

When does my journey end, though? Is it when I see the oncologist? Is it after five years of taking the Temoxifen, if I do? Does it ever end?

I’m not sure about the answer. I am sure, though, that this has been a helluva ride, made all the richer because of all the support along the way.

I hate rollercoasters. This one I have managed quite well, though, because I have not been alone.

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