I don’t care if you wear the wrong shoes to work.
I don’t care if your train is late by ten minutes.
I don’t care if you break a nail.
I don’t care if you’re having a bad hair day.
And you know why?
Because I would give ANYTHING to switch places with you right now. I would give anything for an ounce of normality. For just a week where I didn’t have to go or think about going, or plan my day and childcare and everything else that goes with hospital appointments.
I’d give anything not to wake up and find hair on my pillow every morning, and see it in my hands when I have a shower.
I can’t wait for the day when a conversation doesn’t start with “How are you feeling today?”
The positivity mask has come off and this is how I really feel. I don’t feel positive. I’m NOT OK with the fact that I have CANCER. I pretend to be for the sake of everyone else, and I’m not sure that I can keep doing it.
I can’t always be the positive person everyone thinks I am. I’m far from it today. Today I want to shout and scream “WHY ME? WHY ME?”
I’m 28. I’ve been married for nearly 4 years, and I have a son just about to turn one. This should be when my life is brilliant. Not put on hold for goodness knows how long because of this bitch of a disease.
I know my scan results were good, OK? I know everyone’s happy. And so am I. But what I’m not OK with is the fact that today I sat through chemo in tears because I know I’m nowhere near the end of all the crap yet. I’m not even half way through, and I can’t handle that.