Three years ago, just after I lost my sister I told the universe, "that's it now, don't let anyone else in my family get cancer, that's enough". The idea of going through that ever again was horrific.
So I said that out into the ether and despite not really believing in anything, I hoped.
Of course life doesn't work like that. Today my mum told me she has breast cancer and as soon as she said she had to go to the hospital today I knew. That dread griping hold of my stomach and my heart, while I waited for the word to be spoken. Only a small lump she said, she wasn't worrying she said, in a voice shaky and as fragile as I have ever heard her. I won't worry I said, when I managed more than a one word reply, cold chill on my back, voice forced into cheeriness. Too cheery, no doubt it was as obvious to her that I would worry, as it was to me that so would she.
I stayed at work, no point at all in coming home and doing nothing. A bit of deep breathing, sucking in my feelings and pushing them out as air to float away. Plus some internally spoken “keep it together”s. I spent the afternoon trying to concentrate, trying to remind myself how treatable breast cancer is, how it's all going to be fine, of all the people I know who have faced this and are doing so well. Of course your head likes to slip in the what if's, the worst case scenarios, likes to remind you of the last time. Of what cancer has already taken away.
I want to run away to a dark room and cry, but I don't. I shed a few tears with my head in my hands in the disabled toilet and then I pull myself together. I go back to work and I smile and I chat on the phone, voice forced into cheeriness, just that little bit too cheery. Especially when I speak to my sister, who is numb. I want to be numb, I pretty much am.
After work I go and spend some time with a friend, she know's where I am, she lost her mum to cancer 10 years ago. She reminds me how treatable breast cancer is, how it's all going to be fine. We talk about the people we know who have faced this and are doing so well. I tell her how I don't know what to do, that my colleague asking me if I was going to do things I hadn't even thought of made me feel like I was doing this wrong.
Then an update from my sister, she sounds too cheery too. They said my mum should still go on holiday next week, and come back to more tests results (they are not sure about the lymphoids) and an operation. No mention of chemo or radiotherapy yet. I think that sounds hopeful, that they don't feel they need to offer chemo before, that they are sending her on holiday. I am basing this on my previous experience with this disease, but then my sisters cancer was rare and aggressive, and I suspected from what they were throwing at it, that it wasn't so hopeful. But the google searches about breast cancer are so much more positive than the last time. This is just a little lump that they are just going to whip out and then it will be gone, it will all be fine. Of course my head likes to slip in the what if's, the worst case scenarios, likes to remind me of the last time. Of what cancer has already taken away.
I haven't cried again yet, I am holding back the fear and the grief and the crushing devastation. I don't want to feel it yet. I almost feel I shouldn't be like this, because this it just a little lump and it will be fine, it has to be fine. I feel overdramatic and silly, because I am getting myself so worked up (well I would be if I let it out) and that feels inappropriate when some people have to deal with rare and aggressive cancer like my sister had, that isn't as treatable as this. I feel like I am overreacting some how. It's just a little lump.
So I'll try not to worry, I'll be positive, I'll try not to think about the last time and what cancer has already taken away and with everything I am I'll hope.
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