“Good luck-you’ll be fine.”

I toyed with this blog post all week; I guess I was scared that once I started writing, the immense reality of what I’m about to go through would hit me and I’d fall apart.

But the thing is, I can’t advocate to everyone else how living in a fantasy world is for pussies-how we should all live in the real world and face up to our demons if I don’t follow my own advice.  I also need to document this part of my journey just in case. It’s an important part of the story. 

MONDAY- the dreaded day I have my bone scan. I’ve not had one before but basically they will inject me with some radioactive stuff that makes anything untoward light up on the scan, (at least this is my understanding of it).

I’m scared what they may find. So much so that I’ve barely mentioned it to anyone and I even deferred it by a week and prolonged the agony!

I know in my heart that my bad back is probably not caused by cancer, but my consultant wants to make sure. Therefore I’m in that awful terrifying limbo that us post cancer people face. I know I’m being well looked after but at the same time they are concerned enough to want to scan me. 

I wish my worst case scenario was that I couldn’t have anymore children or I’d never meet the guy I was going to marry.  I’m not prepared for a stage 4 diagnosis. They say that you get used to your new normal. They say you accept things. I would never accept that and  I would certainly fall apart. 

 
Scans are so scary because you have no idea what they might find. It’s an absolute mind fuck. People say “good luck” and “you’ll be fine” but they don’t have to live with the acute pre-match nerves. Oh and I’m playing against cancer.  There are no trophies to be won-just a good result of “no evidence of disease.”

I can’t afford to lose. There’s too much to live for…