When I was first diagnosed on this day in 2013, my BCN told me about the breastcancercare website and recommended I go on it for information. I was completely in shock, and came straight on to the forum to see if I could find people in my situation. I came across a thread entitled “Three years today” and it so inspired me, that I decided there and then, if I made it to my three years today moment, I would want to share it with people who were at the start of their journey, so here goes. . .
Three years ago today, I was in the darkest corner of the darkest room that I had ever found in my life. There were no doors or windows, just cold darkness and fear. I’d just been told that I had invasive lobular cancer. In reality, my lovely husband was sitting next to me holding my hand, my BCN and surgeon were present, but none of that registered, just the fear, the cold, the darkness. I went home in total shock. I wouldn’t allow myself to believe that I had a future, how could I? I had cancer!! Three years ago today, my world fell apart. I didn’t know, three years ago today, that I could cope with much more than I realised. I didn’t know three years ago today how many true friends I had. I didn’t know three years ago today how many special people I would meet on my journey through diagnosis, treatment and recovery. If I could go back into that dark room with my three years ago self, I would point out the funny times I’d have through the bleakest of times. Like my daughter trying to cheer me up before I went in to see my oncologist for the first time with the words, “Mum, you have to start thinking that this is the beginning of the end” (Bless, I actually almost fell off my chair laughing at the one, although I know what she meant!) Or the fun of buying three different colours of wigs and totally confusing all my neighbours till the news trickled out that it wasn’t my real hair, and yes I had cancer. I’d point out to myself that three years ago today I hadn’t felt the exhilaration and pride I would feel as I crossed the finish line of the moonwalk half way through chemo. Three years after that horrible day, I’m here, I’m doing well and I’m enjoying life. I don’t take things for granted as I did before diagnosis and I know that I’m lucky. For the ladies starting off I wish each and every one of you health and happiness in the future.
Such a lovely post and one I am sure will help many. I am a week post last chemo, feeling pretty rubbish and mentally exhausted.
However your post has shown me that there is life after cancer.
Thank you x
Hi Anne and everyone else of course. That was lovely to share Anne and it’s great to hear you are doing well. I too had invasive lobular 2 years ago and I am doing fine also I am so very grateful for that!
I would say it is vitally important when first diagnosed to speak to positive people who have been on the bc journey, that’s what I did and it really helped my anxiety?
Sounds like you have a lot to get your head around Em,being positive is great but there are some days when this thing makes you feel like **** and you want to punch people who say be positive !!!Some days you just feel like weeping and hiding under the duvet and that’s normal .Good luck with your surgery , sorry you have such a long wait to get it done .Jill
Well done you! I know exactly how you felt it was five years ago for me more or less to the same date as you. Christmas was a nightmare I didn’t think I would see another. Life was just hospitals, test and being mauled by doctors, nurses and dealing with friends with sorry faces. Hoping never to go back to that dark room but happy to offer a light at the end of the tunnel for all of those currently stuck in the dark room. We have both come out of the room. Life will never be the same again but we are both making the most of every day and glad to be here to see the small but important things life brings. Good luck to all of you currently feeling trapped in the dark room you will find the door it just might take a little time x
Thanks so much for all your lovely & reassuring posts here.
My first anniversary is now rapidly approaching, we returned home from holiday to find the recall letter on the doormat with an appointment for the following day. I was so convinced it was nothing serious - previous clear mammo, no family history etc - that I didn’t give it much thought.
Then I was sitting there at the results appointment with the dr drawing a diagram of my invasive ductal bc, saying “the good news is its stage 1,” me thinking ‘what? cancer? me? are you mad!’ Then the sense of shock set in.
I remember the BCN recommending this site, but I remember not feeling ready to google until I was further down the road.
Anyway, now having gone through treatment & out the other side, I feel lucky in many ways & grateful & appreciative to be where I am now. It’s been a helluva year in more ways than one!
For all of the ladies embarking on this, loads of best wishes for every health & happiness in the future.
ann x
It really helps me when I read posts from ladies who, like you have been through so much and are now having a life again.
I find out on the 17th what chemo & rads I will be having, so I am at the start of my journey. I have just been looking at scarves and hats today, as I’m not sure if I want a wig yet.
thanks for your kind comments, Susan & Helena, none of us want to be in this club, but its so good to share things here with such a lovely group.
hugs to all
ann x