Head f*ckery

Not a great week emotionally. There was always the risk of a crash after radio ended...... yet another change in routine and I knew I'd miss my bus mates and radio buddies, although I hear regularly from many of them. The weekend in Donegal may have inadvertently even made the crash a bit worse...... it's so nice to be lifted out of the real world, but can be a cruel thump when you're dropped back in. 

Chemo drama has rumbled on a bit.... largely because of my hysterics I'm ashamed to say. Yesterday the hospital rang to offer me an appt with my consultant prior to starting chemo. To ensure I'm ready for it and to give me a chance to ask any questions I might have. If I'd thought Wednesday's meltdown was bad, I surpassed myself yesterday. My overthinking mind as usual wrote an entire script around it....... they think I'm too weak to do this........ they're only covering themselves......... they think I'm a disaster........ Cue all the self judgement and beating up that I swore I wasn't going to do anymore! 

After much distress and talking down by my poor sister, followed by sensible thinking out loud and discussion with hubby, I thought through what I hoped to gain from seeing her again for an extended appt prior to starting chemo. What could she tell me that would influence my decision either way?

Realistically, like any person in my position, I want to be told that there's no need to do the chemo, or if I endure this that I'll be completely cured. I'm not going to be told either of those things. She was clear from the start that being offered chemo was a good thing as it was another treatment.... that I wouldn't be offered it if it wasn't likely to help. I was also told at the start that this couldn't be taken away completely. It's about management, but it's long term management. It's not the difference between a short time and a shorter time. This is part of a long term treatment and management plan.

So I thought about what I would gain from seeing her. The reality is I've made her the villain of the piece, and I'm sure I'm not the first to do it to her. I said from the start that there would be a leap of faith at some point. I was referring to surgery at that point, but this is no different. There are stages during any serious illness when you either put your faith in the experts, or you rage against the machine. I've always been a bit guilty of the latter...... sometimes with good reason. The nickname Big Red didn't just come from my (completely unnatural) hair colour...... I've never been afraid to challenge. A good thing in some ways, but can be very damaging in others. Choose your battles in a way.

The additional appointment simply gives me another opportunity to fight and argue due to fear. We are not suddenly going to see each other, hug, and her tell me something wonderful, allowing me to go home and get on with my old life. She has been frank from day one. There is evidence indicating grades 2 and 4 of the type of tumour I have respond well to PCV chemo. I have a grade 3 so logically...... and actually the majority of it is grade 2..... so the science is there. She said from the start that being offered chemo was a good thing because it was more treatment; it was more they thought would help. 

I said from the start that I was one of the lucky ones. A treatment plan. No timescales. I need to go back and talk to that girl! I'll always find it hard to trust the experts/ authority..... I'll often be the stone in their shoe....... I've no idea why or where it came from. But I also know that there comes a time to trust, as hard as that might be. 

I wish I had a better rapport with my consultant but the reality is that we don't need to be friends. The insecure part of us wants everyone to like us. Wants constant reassurance. The confident part of us knows it makes no difference to the outcome. That we need to trust the experts, whether there's some rare bond or not. Unfortunately a serious illness and treatment over an extended period can give the confident part of us a bit of a kicking....... Sometimes it takes friends and family to remind us it's still in you. 

So as of today I'm keeping my chemo start date the same. 4th July. Independence Day. Can't guarantee no tears, but can guarantee my ability to go through with it. 

By the time I finish treatment and recovery I'll probably have lost at least 2 years of my life. Many just lose their life. As I think I asked in a previous blog.... family and friends who have dragged me through this, buckle up...... navigators required!! Xxx