Putting my big girl knickers on.

There’s nothing worse these days than waking up just before 7am desperate for a wee and not being able to go quite as quickly as I used to. 

Ah the uncomfortableness of it all! 

Me V full bladder! 

Bladder is saying “hey girl I’m at full capacity here, please empty me!”Brain answers “Sorry bladder bro, it’s going to take 20 mins or so until I’m going to make it to the toilet.”

So here I am writhing about on the sofa trying to take my mind of this impending morning wee, which isn’t too hard, as today I’m going to the hospital to chat about this back of mine and hopefully be scanned.  

Part of me wishes it would all go away and I didn’t have to deal with this. But most of me knows the brave team are calling on me again to put my big girl knickers on and face this head on. If the goal posts need adjusting then I will adjust them. 

Do you remember when I used to complain a lot about people wanting to talk to me about their partner or family members dying when I was scared of the same thing? How I used to bang on about only having positive people around me? Well I think to a degree I was wrong. Nobody was saying I hope you die too, they just wanted me to acknowledge their loss as someone who understands the whole breast cancer thing. 

It’s funny my phone always wants to write “beast cancer.” It’s probably one of the most accurate auto-corrects ever! Breast cancer is a fucking beast, but thankfully I live in a civilised society that allow me access to drugs care and support.  Hey I didn’t want it, but what the fuck else would I write about for 3 years?  I’m not sure being passionate about cheese or Dawson’s Creek would be quite as interesting for the reader, but me, Pacey and a fondue is a titalating thought and I could definitely write a few hundred words about that! 😊

 Wish me luck.. X

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