This post went out earlier in the month but if felt all wrong for it to be hanging in the ether to be seen and read by passersby when none of my family had a clue what was going on. And actually I wanted it to stay that way until I had an answer.
It was just a cathartic reaction committed in panic so I deleted the post then kept it as a draft copy and ran it like a diary.
It explains a little of what has preoccupied me over the last two weeks and why it may have appeared that I had fallen off the edge of the planet.
Let me start by saying that today, the 18th of November, all is well.
Something is not right with leftie.
We are talking boobs here.
So I took her along to the docs.
Very much hoping doc would dismiss me as time wasting neurotic old bat.
Disappointed then to find that she agreed with me and is sending me off to the breast clinic.
She was very kind, very reassuring, and gave me the impression that she was not overly worried.
But to the clinic I will go within 2 weeks.
I write this in an attempt to lessen my anxiety.
And as importantly to try and mine this experience for all it contains.
Because it will pass.
Truth to tell I am a little scared.
I feel as though I may have just buckled myself into a roller-coaster ride when I had actually gone to the theme park with candy floss in mind.
On the other hand luck might be with me and after a mammogram I will be ejected from said ride.
I am having to stay my hand from googling myself into full on hysteria.
And I am trying to breathe and to examine what this current situation is telling me about my life as I live it.
I have been in places like this before where darkness threatens or actually descends but in the middle of it, if you look, there is much love and light.
14th November. Day 11 in the waiting game.
I won't lie I am scared witless at times.
I have googled every known cause of breast lump and conclude that my age and post menopausal status shift the balance less in my favour.
Compleltely dismissing the facts that I have no family history, am generally healthy, not on HRT, breast fed my babies which all count as positive factors.
I have prodded and palpated lefty and convinced myself that things are less lumpy.
And more lumpy.
Lumpy in a different place.
Why do we torture ourselves at times like these!?
Other times I can be quite sanguine about it.
After all, whatever it is.....it already is….. or isn't…...and no amount of worrying will change that but will only rob me of peace and pleasure.
And there is plenty of peace and pleasure to be had.
What sweet joy and contentment there is to be found in the very simple pleasures of being warm and cosy, eating good wholesome food, reading, making frippery and walking the dogs.
Weavers Down,where I walk most often, has been my sanctuary for a long time now.
I always take a long while just gazing and absorbing the views. But now there is a piquancy to those sights.
I am aware of the exquisite blending of life's events and made breathless by the sheer beauty and delight in being here in this imperfect messy life.
I want to hold those images and the feeling of space and tranquility and to hold tightly the feeling that things are just exactly as they should be.
Despite suggestions to the contrary there is order in the universe.
This will be my security blanket when I go for my appointment on the 18th.
I've done it before. Many times. Retreated in my mind to my 'happy place', shielding my heart from fear.
My appointment is for 2.03!!
The military precision of the timing is intimidating.
As was the letter I received from the hospital….." you are welcome to bring someone with you but the waiting room gets very busy"
I am not encouraged.
In this state of mind where I am calm but in a surreal bubble I am apt to find solace in housework!!!
And there is an inordinate amount that I can occupy myself with this morning.
Or on the other hand I could go to my favourite craft superstore and lose myself in all the possibilities that are on offer there…..hmmm.
No doubt at 2.03 I shall have my heart in my mouth and butterflies the size of eagles in my stomach.
I leave you to guess whether the housework or Hobbycraft won out.
The waiting room was indeed busy.
Busy and efficient.
And lot of waiting went on in that waiting room.
Having had both lefty and righty brusquely manhandled 3 times today and squished beyond the point where I thought it was possible to squish I was elated to find that all is well.
I left, clutching my information about evening primrose oil and instructions to cut back on chocolate, caffeine and wine!!!!!, feeling, what must be akin to, survivors guilt.
I felt sad leaving the lady to my right, with whom I had shared two torturous hours, still waiting to see the Dr and planning to get the bus to Asda once she had done so.
I felt sad for the lady to my left who having had a biopsy had a further 7 days to wait for any conclusive answer. She looked miserable. Understandably so.
I felt so lucky as I wished them well, turned my back and walked off into the sunset…..well the car park actually to text and phone and say that
ALL IS WELL.