F**king Shite - not again!
Yes, those were the words that flew out of my mouth when the consultant told me I had breast cancer, for the second time. He took it well as the tears ran down my cheeks and rummaged under the paperwork for a box of tissues. I followed my outburst with apologies but he looked empathetic, unshockable, he had no doubt heard it all before. The response of an unexpected diagnosis.
Once I calmed down I realised I needed to get myself in order. The first time I had cancer I had babies to raise, my daughters were young. Now, I have books to write. It's a different sort of birthing and writing words is my happy place, a place of healing. I leave the hospital and start to sing "Reasons to be cheerful part three".
A week later, with surgery looming, I have thrown myself into the launch of Murder on Morrison, and told as many people that I know to get checked! Breast, bowel or prostate, don't put it off. This time around because of a "happy accident", which meant I had to get a mammogram, I am only at stage one. A solid reason to be cheerful.
The old saying when life gives you lemons, make lemonade has become my mantra during the pandemic and because I'm a tad stubborn, despite this most recent setback I'm determined to dance at my youngest's 50th birthday, in other words I've got a lot of living to do.
So this week, in lieu of a poem - or maybe it is - I'm sharing Ian Dury and the Blockheads. Reasons to be Cheerful, Part Three.
Sending warm good wishes to you all and a nag - please get yourself checked!