Wedding bells and healthy cells

One of my nearest and dearest friends got hitched this weekend, and boy, what a wedding. I think waking up with a red wine soaked dress and ketchup in my fringe was evidence of it’s greatness. Consequently had a severe case of the post-wedding blues, not just because it was THE MOST fun, but because being surrounded by so many loved ones honestly made me completely forget all the cancer chaos (apart from when people gave me overzealous squeezy hugs which hurt my tender boobie a little. Love hurts). Nothing like dancing barefoot in a rural idyll and getting teary eyed at bad 80s music to soothe the soul. And having the most beautifully mad and wonderful friends probably has something to do with it too….

Come Monday and BOOM! Straight back down to earth with my old familiar friend named ‘pre-appointment dread’. But in the end it wasn’t necessary for the sphincter squeezing sense of fear – my surgery results were that the lump was cleanly removed with good margins, and my lymph nodes were all clear of nastiness. Old habits die hard I guess, you just can’t help feeling sweaty and snappy before these things, so props to my family for dealing with my clammy, testy demeanour (aren’t I a treat??!)

Next on my magical medical mystery tour is the harvesting of my eggs. Chemotherapy can really quite stuff up your fertility. My brain conjures up images of my ovaries shrivelling like a grape you’ve left in the fruitbowl for too long (thanks brain). So after some tests it turned out I was eligible to get my eggos frozen on the NHS (testimony once more to how bloody lucky we really are to have the National Health Service), which involves a week or two of injecting myself with a potion to get them fully ripe for the plucking (totally the techincal term…). And again, it turns out I know people who have been through this process and gave me kind and understanding advice. Beginning to see a pattern of the benefits of shared experience. Sharing is caring after all! So the next couple of weeks may well involve me going into full health food nutter mode (only the best for my eggs!), coupled with what the nurse described as ‘more extreme than normal mood swings’ from the injections. Apologies in advance to my colleagues and loved ones. Stay tuned for semi graphic self – injecting descriptions!

 

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