Ambushing relatives with Un-Glad tidings.....

How the fudge do you drop the 'c bomb' into a casual conversation?


How do you tell your parents, those you care about, your friends that you have cancer?


The day after diagnosis was AWFUL. Liam too the day off so he could gather his thoughts and so that we could do the telling.......spread un-glad tidings this Christmastide. Both sets of parents needed tracking down, various errands were being run at the time we had dropped by and both were surprised to see us in the day time. 'Oh, got the day off? Going shopping?' No actually, we're not.


It seemed that I became the comforter, telling the sobbing relative that it would be ok. I felt I was in the position that the nurse had been in just two days before......comforting me, except that I didn't really cry when they told us. I just shook.


Most people know now, I must say the 'mummy grapevine' is working incredibly efficiently in as much as I suspect that the whole village knew by tea time. Lots of lovely texts and message arrived on my phone, offers of help and support.

But then there are the few friends that you don't see so often. The ones in far countries, or those that live in neighbouring towns that you NEVER seem to bump into.......and then you do and you think you're going to  faint with anxiety at telling them, face to face. When you think you are done with that and it all comes back...in the middle of a busy shopping centre 6 days before Christmas. And she's with her son.


I bottled it.


Where's the gin?

So, here we are!

Where I never thought I'd be. Nothing ever happens to me, to us.


I'm going to try and blog my way through this, I'm hoping it will help me cope and come to terms with my diagnosis.


So, we found a lump. Well Liam found it during a boozy Sunday evening grope on the sofa.....as you do. Talk about passion killer.


Anyway, it takes me three days to get an emergency appointment at our surgery an all I'm left with is the 'holistic' GP who likes acupuncture and homeopathic remedies. I was expecting him to suggest I was imagining it, to do some breathing exercises or bathe in goats milk but no, he examined me and referred me straight away.


Two weeks later I'm having my girls squished between plates, prodded by strangers and skewered (under local anaesthetic) by kindly radiographers. Yes the lump was there and oh look it brought a friend. I don't remember there sending out an invite to my tit let alone a 'plus one'......




We went home relieved that we weren't imagining the whole thing and that our fabulous NHS would see us through. The wait for the results has to have been the longest week of our lives. We are not used to having to wait for things, life has become so instant. It didn't help that our appointment was an afternoon, nor that we would have an unexpected 2 hour wait after that.


5.30pm Wednesday 16th Dec 2015, A nurse comes to find us, as we are the last couple in the now deserted waiting room. Don't panic she says, we know you are waiting and we are very sorry its so late......one of those days she says. Then she says.........You're next and we wont rush it, we will take as long as we need to.


He didn't say so, but Liam's heart sank at that point as he realised it was bad news......it went over my head, I was hot and anxious. I was just glad to find we hadn't been forgotten!


Then we are called in at 6pm.....to the 'bad news room' That's not what its called, but it may as well be. Three chairs, plus one recliner and a box of tissues on the table. Fuck.


And there follows the very kind words from the consultant....and the nurse explaining everything and I don't really remember much else. It was so late I was eager to get home because we hadn't told anyone where we were, the boys were home and waiting for their dinner.....Fred had a friend over and I was supposed to feed them before he went home. I really thought we would be home by 5pm.
We finally rolled in at 7pm, told the boys and opened the wine.