Being introduced to someone because we both have cancer is something I’ve studiously avoided. I would prefer we be ‘friends’ via another connection, rather than both being skewered by the Sword of Damocles, partnered like kebabs awaiting the barbecue. Some years ago my oncologist prescribed Eribulin chemotherapy which had just been approved for metastatic breastContinue reading “connection”
Category Archives: cancer
scan
For the past four years, I’ve had a CT scan every twelve weeks to monitor the cancer’s progress. I joke that I’ll die of radiation poisoning before I die of cancer, and one year when the tumours were in retreat, the radiographer took the threat seriously. Then the tumour cavalry appeared on the horizon andContinue reading “scan”
Down or Out
Q. How do you pull yourself out of a hole? A. You’ve fallen down a hole so deep, you’re standing at rock bottom. That’s assuming of course, that you are still standing. You tried to climb out, but scaling the sides seems impossible from such a low standpoint, and each superhuman effort barely makes aContinue reading “Down or Out”
work-life balance
Ever since I began buying and selling antiques in the mid seventies, it’s been part of my life and not just a job. The hard beauty of visual things that shout ‘look at me’ are easy to appreciate, but my heart belongs to tactile treasures that want to be touched and felt. The words FadedContinue reading “work-life balance”
Blockage
All cancer treatments have side effects, and my current meds are no exception; I try to think of it as a yin-yang thing. This time round I get to keep my hair, but I have debilitating muscle fatigue, inflammation of the blood vessels. . .and constipation. You do not often see Writing and Constipation mentionedContinue reading “Blockage”
the last word
You know me well enough to excuse my warped sense of humour; if there was a support group for Poor Humour Addicts, I’d be the leading light. “My name is Elaine and I find the darkest things funny.” Alas, it’s a familial trait so I’m both helpless and blameless. My maternal family had genetic cancersContinue reading “the last word”
boobs
part two By the age of forty I’d had breast cancer twice, and a generous helping of the side dishes that came with it. I felt I’d done enough to appease the gods of unlucky statistics, and would live the rest of my life in boring equilibrium. Ha! Once again, the hand of shite reachedContinue reading “boobs”
boobs
part one One morning mum suggested we go and buy a bra, for me. I hadn’t noticed I needed one, but when I looked through my white nylon school shirt, I could certainly see her point. Or two. It was a short bus ride to Cox’s, the local ladieswear shop, where Mrs Cox showed meContinue reading “boobs”
husband
I really like my husband. It goes without saying that I love him more than anyone else on earth, but I also genuinely like him. I don’t agree with all his views, his politics or his taste in food, but we’ve come to a tacit agreement that he voices his opinions, I certainly voice mine,Continue reading “husband”
what’s the plural of diagnosis?
For my family, the first time I had cancer was total shock and awe, but for me, I’d simply followed self-examination instructions and hit the jackpot. Sitting in the bath on Good Friday evening 1991, the lather parted on my left breast to reveal a marshmallow-sized lump. A strange calmness washed over me as IContinue reading “what’s the plural of diagnosis?”
