A date that will be forever etched in my mind.
The date of my first national screening mammogram.
I remember the morning vividly - crisp, cold and sunny.
I was wearing a red and white striped jumper, with my favourite bell bottom jeans.
My only concern?
That I must be officially old to have received that particular invitation through the post!
Fast forward three and a half months and I am sitting here, two surgeries later and twenty lymph nodes lighter, contemplating the start of chemotherapy in thirteen days time.
It's a scary step into the unknown.
My world has been spun on its axle and breast cancer has appeared out of nowhere.
Small and early, but grade 3.
Each set of results was an emotional body blow.
Words like lymph nodes and oestrogen and calcifications acquired a whole new significance.
FEC T has become shorthand for my weapon of choice to obliterate any rogue cells still lurking around.
Cancer has suddenly become very real but I won't let it define me.
Still me.
My only concern?
That I must be officially old to have received that particular invitation through the post!
Fast forward three and a half months and I am sitting here, two surgeries later and twenty lymph nodes lighter, contemplating the start of chemotherapy in thirteen days time.
It's a scary step into the unknown.
My world has been spun on its axle and breast cancer has appeared out of nowhere.
Small and early, but grade 3.
Each set of results was an emotional body blow.
Words like lymph nodes and oestrogen and calcifications acquired a whole new significance.
FEC T has become shorthand for my weapon of choice to obliterate any rogue cells still lurking around.
Cancer has suddenly become very real but I won't let it define me.
Still me.
