Most of what I write on these pages is born out of a need for me to use writing as a method of catharsis, a way to process the anxieties and fears I have each day, and map the road I’m currently travelling.
Whilst I have always loved to write, when I set out creating my first blog for Cancer Cans, I did so pretty blindly, with no grand goals in mind, just a way to get my feelings out in the best way I knew how. I’ve never been all that great at expressing myself verbally, but give me a pen and paper and it’ll all come out.
My life of late has become a collection of very bizarre events.
In the early days of diagnosis, cancer is pretty all-consuming. Not only because it’s a massive freak-out, but also because it seriously does take over your life in all respects. You live and breathe it day after day.
On the 5th of December, I went from strolling through a standard, Friday morning, to being suddenly whisked off for urgent scans and tests. Before I knew it, I was meeting surgeons and having little chunks of tumour bored from my boob and armpit. What a balls-up that was for my perfectly planned Friday, and every other one since!