UPDATE: Sadly it seems it’s not as clear cut as we thought. In the last blog post I bemoaned the feelings of scanxiety around my first check up PET-CT scan since my chemotherapy began. Well, I'm not worried anymore. We have the results.
It's one in the morning, and as I sit here during my second night as an emergency in-patient at my local hospital, I'm smiling. No, they haven't given me some of the strong, 'fun' meds. I'm grinning simply because I'm feeling so incredibly lucky.
Today I broke down. I continue to sob as I write this. Sometimes I feel like my mind is renting a small square footage of my body. It has become communal property. Some of the tenants are part of a cooperative to keep it in good condition. Some are saboteurs. But everyone has a say. I want my body back.
As I write, it's day nine (which, the eagle eyed amongst you will have spotted, means that I start my DIY G-CSF injections today. Fuuuuuuuuuu-), and so time for a recap of day 8. Which, if I'm being honest, was a total bugger of a day.
My personal relationship with mental health conditions was the main factor in why I immediately sought (and continue to seek) information regarding mental health support for cancer patients. Not only was I worried about my own mental health, and the mental health of my loved ones, but on top of that I was wracked with guilt.