No man’s land

Today is the day that I go back to hospital, not for treatment and not for a regular check-up, but to have a lump, the fucker as I have named it, felt by my doctor. As you can imagine, I am dreading it. It´s not so much that I do not look forward to it, as in a strange way I do. I want to be closer to knowing what the hell this thing on my chest is. However, I am so conscious that knowing could change my life drastically, once again.

The first time it all happened I was planning to move back home, after breaking up with my long-term boyfriend and getting to the end of my PhD funding. We had given notice for our flat, I was going to spend half my summer in London and half in Barcelona, where I would  carry on writing up my thesis and settle. And then cancer happened and all my wonderful plans came to a halt.

This time round I have found the fucker also at a time when I am planning changes in my life. But now, unlike he first time it happened, when I was planning without knowing about a lump,  I am very conscious that it all may change . So every time I am talking about the move to my new flat in the centre of town, or talking about finding a job, there is always that thing at the back of my mind, a little voice that tells me “all these plans may have to be re-drawn”.  And I cannot help but engage in some internal dialogue in which “what ifs” are discussed.

“what if it’s cancer?”

This is one of the first questions I ask myself. And you know what? if it is cancer I will deal with it once again, just like a did. And if I have to do chemo I will do it once again, just like I did. I am no longer fearing a breast cancer recurrence. My biggest fear is secondary breast cancer, just like when it first happened. That is, when the cancer has spread elsewhere in your body and there is no cure. I do not wanna be given an estimated time to my death.

So at the moment I feel like I am in a thin line, one that separates “cancer free life ” from “cancerous life” and I am just waiting to see which way I am tipped over. I live in no man’s land.


5 responses to “No man’s land

  1. Rosa, I admire your philosophy on life and the way you handle life’s cruelties. Just the mere fact that you have a blog is inspirational! You are just an amazing person with such strength. I am thinking of you angel. Lots and lots of love and hope.

  2. Hey gorgeous, I agree with Lili, you’re amazing. We’re all here for you – keeping the faith. We love you xx

  3. Andrew Robertson

    Hey Rosa. So sorry to hear about ‘the fucker’ appearing, but your mindset seems to be in exactly the right place. You are indeed to be admired for your attitude and strength. I send you the biggest of hugs from the deepest of respect within me. Let us see what it is first. All my love

    Andy xx

  4. Thanks guys, you know how much your words mean to me…dr. thinks it is nothing, but having more scans to determine if she is right…x

  5. Pingback: Weeks…41 and…? « Hair growth after chemo

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