As elegant and calm as the swan on water.

I continue to feel sick, tired and dizzy, and still have the other new symptoms which had developed towards the end of my chemotherapy (acne and sore fingers/hands) are still giving me some jipp.

The build up to my scan on 10th June was just made worse by the ‘what ifs’ in my own head and everyone around me telling me ‘you’ll be fine, you’ve been positive, and that’s all that matters’ I wish it was that easy but after a while all the positivity seems to fall on death ears and my positive mind set is now just an exhausted mindset. I can’t help but worry and it is exhausting.

My scan goes smoothly as always but this time I experience the hot flush more so than usual, however in the evening of the 10th June whilst home alone I read some news from a fellow cancer sufferer which upset me and set me off on what I’d probably describe as a mild panic attack. Tears came from nowhere and I couldn’t breathe, but I got through it and calmed myself down. Consciously and subconsciously I am petrified, and it doesn’t feel nice at all, just like a never ending pit in the stomach.

13th June we have my nieces christening and we are blessed with some beautiful weather and a lovely day with family and friends, this was a perfect distraction and I was so pleased to be part of the day, but at the back of my head all I can think about is the day after. My brain is already in overdrive about the results and it just feels like there is a rainy cloud hovering over me.

As always I’m up extra extra early after barely any sleep on results day. 14th June where it felt like 10 steps back after so many positive steps forwards. It all started with a delay in my appointment, sat in the waiting room and having to go speak to the receptionist. El always came with me for my appointments and I appreciate it so much!

I ask what’s happening and the girl scans her computer and goes ‘oh the doctors have a consultation this afternoon’..me and el looked at each other like okay this is news to us, and I gripped her hand so hard. El spoke for me as I was taken back a bit and said we just have an appointment for the ct results and the girl panics and goes oh yeah ignore me, they’re just running a little late.

Straight away I knew something was up and el was trying to reassure me but I knew she knew that I knew I wouldn’t be ignoring what the girl said and now I was worried about the results more so. My hands get clammy and I can’t let go of els hand.

I get called into a different room this time and the wording on the door just made me think ‘okay it’s bad news’, I said this to Ellen saying I always go to the same room and she put on a brave face and just said yeah they just use any room they can.

The doctor comes in and we go through the expected pleasantries and then he throws that curve ball into my cancer journey.

‘So your lymph nodes haven’t shrunken as much as we had hoped and we are going to need to remove the two lymph nodes’. Straight away Ellen begins to cry and I do my best to comfort her as it seems to be the only time my heart breaks is when I see Ellen upset. I’ll never forget that moment and it’s forever etched in my memory, she was as exhausted as I was and there was just nothing I could do for her. The doctor explained that he would organise for the specialist/surgeon to contact me and they would be able to give me some form of timescale.

I took it all in, but it was incredibly hard to hear that I had a major surgery to endure before I could get a little breathing space from this terrible disease.

I was calm but on the inside I was screaming.