A year ago today we flew to Disneyland. We are now in lockdown, I have now got breast cancer, I have had 7 cycles of chemo, I have lost my hair and my identity, and we, as a family are all flat today and spend moments of the day revisiting where we were at each part of the day on Halloween 2019. I am met with stabs of sadness often because of this. I can see them sad too. Sad at what we are doing this Halloween, and sad at the fact that the world is sick and life is not the same for any of them. They are not only having to deal with the global uncertainty of life and this horrid virus, they have also had to manage their feelings regarding their Mum getting sick. This kills me. When it is staring at me in the face like it does today, I break inside and want to run and hide from them all. I want to mop up the last 12 months of their lives and change it. Put it through a filter that has no COVID and no cancer in it. I get angry as the day moves past me and am very aware of how hot I am feeling inside. This residual anger heats my blood.
Every part of me wants to do something fab to steal them from their sadness and carve out a different Halloween this year. We may not be in Disneyland but we are alive and we are actually together. Lockdown has seem to that. So through the streaks of anger, I get them all to wear something ‘Disney’, I send my eldest daughter out for sweets (she is learning to drive and got her car yesterday!), and I prepare a to throw the goodies around the house and set them off to hunt! Bearing in mind they are 17, 16 and 13 – yet believe me – more competitive than ever. I put my favorite Mickey PJ’s on, pour the wine and sit and watch the uproar. They don’t disappoint!
Looking back on these pictures now. I had no clue what was to come next. I had the lump in my breast but tried hard to convince myself it was a fatty lump or a cyst. I sat with the difficult feelings that it may not be when I was there. These would appear when I was on my own, waiting for them to go on the fast rides I am too much of a baby to attempt. The ‘what if’s’ crawled through to my conscious. Hell they hurt. I was so bloody angry these thoughts had followed me over the Atlantic ocean and into my dream holiday. Bastards. This defiance was strong and definitely helped minimize the anxiety.
THERE WAS NO WAY I HAD CANCER. NOT ME. I DON’TGET ILL. I DON’T GET TO LIVE THESE LIFE CHANGING EXPERINCES. OTHER PEOPLE DO. I JUST WATCH THAT HAPPEN. I LISTEN TO THE TRAUMA – NOT LIVE IT.
Silly bitch that I am. Don’t make this mistake. Don’t be ignorant or naïve. And don’t…..whatever you do, let anyone drain a cyst and NOT investigate the fluid. It cost me dearly.