When I started this blog I said I wanted it to be honest, and it has been. I haven’t changed anything or even exaggerated anything, what would be the point? It’s my diary. I also said that it would be rarely depressing, and I have to say that except for a few blips along the way I genuinely haven’t been too depressed, stressed or worried. I took every step as it came, concentrating on that step and not the ones further down the line. Each step was hopefully a step towards getting better, in fact maybe even an unnecessary, cautionary step- they may have got it with the original mole exhition they did.
Now there are no more steps until I get my results next Thursday, there is nothing to do but wait. The hospital was much much easier than this. I am really really scared. As I said I am incredible lucky to have a 90% chance of this thing not having spread. But the fear of the 10% is a powerful one. If it has spread there is no cure and let’s just say it’s very likely that I would miss finding out if life really DOES begin at forty by a few years. The odds of things being fine are good, but having been sure the mole wouldn’t need to be cut out, and then having been sure that it wasn’t cancer I just feel that I need to at least entertain the possibility of the worst happening- partly to prepare myself for the potential blow and partly so as not to tempt fate by being positive to the extent of cockyness.
The last week has been the hardest since dad was sick, but looking at it positively I’m waiting to find out if I’m going to die early (hopefully and probably not), whereas with him we were waiting for when. Things are getting better as I become more mobile. The more busy I am and the less I’m alone, the less I think about things, it’s quite logical really! Today I went to work at my acting co op and hardly thought about it all day, tomorrow I am temping, then I’ll be with Keith for the weekend. After that I have more normal, busy everyday life things planned. Friends have been so incredibly supportive, checking on me regularly and taking my mind off things and people who were formerly acquaintances have proved themselves to be very good friends.
The fact that it would be Halloween the night before I got my results didn’t register in a big way when I was given the date last month. Now it seems quite appropriate and faintly amusing. Not only will I be terrified about the appointment the next day, but I will also be watching scary films looking like the bride of Frankenstein myself, with my big triangular scar! Actually it’s healing fantastically and is smaller than I expected. It’s still something that children would point at in the street, people would deliberately look away from and dogs would sniff intently; but if what has happened so far is as bad as it gets I really couldn’t give a flying foof about this scar!
I know the dye was cast quite a while ago, but please keep the good vibes coming- sorry to be depressing when I said I wouldn’t, but I’m f***ing terrified!
Ps: Keith has just told me that his lovely friend Daz who is in Afghanistan was just in the first jeep of soldiers who managed to kill a suicide bomber before he got close enough to kill them. They still killed two civilians. Daz and the blokes got blown up, but not killed and Daz walked away with cuts and presumably shock. No comfort for the civilians’ families, but such a relief that Daz was lucky. Hopefully luck is finally back in the air.
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