I think its fairly unusual to remain friends with your ex sister-in-law, but, thanks to facebook, I have. She is lovely. On the surface we are complete opposites but our core values are very similar. We have become so close that when she was visiting her brother, my ex, she actually spent a few days with me and my lovely hubby. Needless to say, both men found it a bit odd!
So, the other day she messaged me; she is being rushed through for various tests and was being diagnosed with ovarian cancer, though thankfully she has since been given the all clear. It's such an indiscriminate disease. None of us know when or if it might strike. Having survived myself, I understand her fears.
The thing about cancer is, it's terrifying.
It will stay in your head and jumble your thoughts. These thoughts take time to be put into neat lines where we can begin to comprehend the whole thing; and you might never be able to fully understand all of it, but that's ok. And if you're anything like me, you will want to take control of your body. The body that has defied you. But you can't do that. What you can do is keep control of your positive thoughts and allow the amazing medical team to do what they do best. Trust them, talk to them.
Regarding everyday life, well that can only be dealt with on a day to day basis. You won't know from one day to the next how you might be feeling, so make dates, arrange to see friends, knowing you can cancel last minute. Appointments and your health come first. You will need distractions, but alone time is massively important, just so you can absorb it all. It's a huge thing to be told. It's your body, your head and your emotions.
Ask for help. Delegate. You are not a super hero. You are human. You will need help. Accept it. One of the hardest things is accepting your physical and emotional roller-coaster ride. It's yours alone so accept every bit of help that is offered. Anything that makes your life easier.
I found myself thinking of my funeral; not because I thought I was going to die but because cancer makes you suddenly very aware of your own mortality. It reminds us that our time is short and needs to be lived and loved. It's a normal reaction. But death is something that none of us can escape. Who are we to know when our time is up? So the thing to do is get your 'let's kick cancers butt' hat on. One size fits all.
Then there's your friends. They will be shocked and scared. I found myself reassuring them that I would be fine. That everything was, and would be, ok. You will lose some because they're unable to cope. It's because they are too scared to face their own mortality. To be honest, who isn't. It's something we all avoid until we come face to face with it, and you can't change that. That is their demon, not yours.
Finally, hair. I was lucky enough to avoid chemo by 1\2 cm; but my thought is to do a Britney. A hat for all occasions! It can't be avoided, so rock the bald and embrace the hat.
So, the other day she messaged me; she is being rushed through for various tests and was being diagnosed with ovarian cancer, though thankfully she has since been given the all clear. It's such an indiscriminate disease. None of us know when or if it might strike. Having survived myself, I understand her fears.
The thing about cancer is, it's terrifying.
It will stay in your head and jumble your thoughts. These thoughts take time to be put into neat lines where we can begin to comprehend the whole thing; and you might never be able to fully understand all of it, but that's ok. And if you're anything like me, you will want to take control of your body. The body that has defied you. But you can't do that. What you can do is keep control of your positive thoughts and allow the amazing medical team to do what they do best. Trust them, talk to them.
Regarding everyday life, well that can only be dealt with on a day to day basis. You won't know from one day to the next how you might be feeling, so make dates, arrange to see friends, knowing you can cancel last minute. Appointments and your health come first. You will need distractions, but alone time is massively important, just so you can absorb it all. It's a huge thing to be told. It's your body, your head and your emotions.
Ask for help. Delegate. You are not a super hero. You are human. You will need help. Accept it. One of the hardest things is accepting your physical and emotional roller-coaster ride. It's yours alone so accept every bit of help that is offered. Anything that makes your life easier.
I found myself thinking of my funeral; not because I thought I was going to die but because cancer makes you suddenly very aware of your own mortality. It reminds us that our time is short and needs to be lived and loved. It's a normal reaction. But death is something that none of us can escape. Who are we to know when our time is up? So the thing to do is get your 'let's kick cancers butt' hat on. One size fits all.
Then there's your friends. They will be shocked and scared. I found myself reassuring them that I would be fine. That everything was, and would be, ok. You will lose some because they're unable to cope. It's because they are too scared to face their own mortality. To be honest, who isn't. It's something we all avoid until we come face to face with it, and you can't change that. That is their demon, not yours.
Finally, hair. I was lucky enough to avoid chemo by 1\2 cm; but my thought is to do a Britney. A hat for all occasions! It can't be avoided, so rock the bald and embrace the hat.