I’m back to work today. Tomorrow will be three weeks to the day that I had my surgery. They told me to allow 3 weeks, and I didn’t want to accept that, but here I am 3 weeks later only just getting back to work. It’s impossible to know how long it will last as I wait for the treatment plan.
It has been an ordeal and I still have symptoms. For example my breast is still swollen and there’s the itching and nerve pain. A tiny bit of skin came apart along the stitching at the top of the nipple so I’m back to steri-strips.
I rode my bike to the station today, which was perhaps not the wisest thing to do, but I find walking more painful. My condition is a lot less limiting than a week ago in terms of walking, but cycling is smoother. My arm is still not 100% but pretty good.
Here’s a gripe:
I’m sick of people referring my breast cancer as a journey. When people call it that they are perhaps trying to give it meaning and suggest I will draw valuable life lessons from it. That’s fine for people who have cancer and need that, but I wish people would stop referring to mine as such.To me a journey is full of wonder and surprise, and also bad moments, but above all choice.
I see it like this (if a journey needs to be involved): I was on a journey but my plane was hijacked, I was diverted to a rogue nation, I don’t understand who my captors are and the army that’s trying to save me has to put me in the line of fire to rescue me.
So it’s not my journey, it is my hijacking.