About me

I am fifty-something - which I think makes me just middle-aged (fifty is the new thirty, dahlings!)
I am a grandma, a mum, an aunt, a great-aunt, a sister and a wife.  In the past I have been a daughter, a granddaughter, a great-granddaughter and a niece, but all the people who thought of me like that are gone.  I have also been a girlfriend and a mistress, but we won't talk about that.

I've worked the last {ahem} years in IT, starting life as a techie, moving on into management and consultancy.  After a few months "between engagements" I am back in harness, working for a huge organisation who might not want to be associated with blogs about broken boobies - so I won't talk too much about them.

They say that the biggest fear in this country is cancer - well, I know a little about that.  However, my biggest fear is that one day I will be involved in some kind of incident and it will be reported in the media, where I will be described as "Cancer-battling Fifty-something Grandmother ImpatientOne..."  I don't wish to be defined by one relationship, or by a bunch of cells that got out of control.  I'm an ordinary woman, living an ordinary life, dear to some and a stranger to many.  Just like everyone else.

I experienced the real fear of cancer in 2007,  when I found a lump in my right breast.  I was immediately referred to the local Breast Care Unit, where the lump was diagnosed as a cyst, one of many spread throughout both my boobs.  This was a huge relief after the few days of not knowing, and fearing the worst, I thought those were the longest days and nights of my life... What little I knew then!

In May of 2010 I found another lump, in the same boob, in much the same place.  I had blamed the previous one on a too-tight underwired bra, so had been very careful to make sure my undies fit well, as well as showing off my charms...  However, it felt much the same, so I trotted off to the GP, who agreed with me but referred me to the BCU again.  The letter arrived a couple of days later with an appointment a couple of days after that (who says the NHS is slow!?).
Firm in my belief that this was a cyst, I tripped lightly into the hospital.  I smiled cheerfully at the doctor as he fired up the ultrasound machine... the smile cracked ever so slightly when a consultant radiologist appeared... it fell off completely when I realised the nurse smiling sympathetically down at me was wearing a Macmillan badge...

This is the story of my journey.  I am just an ordinary woman, my name is unimportant.  I have been supported by some extraordinary people, who do extraordinary things every single day for many frightened people.  Through no choice of mine, I had to embark upon a voyage through events and happenings which should have scared me rigid if I had actually taken time out to think about them.  That doesn't mean I haven't been scared - the nights have been oh so long - and I will never get over the fear of general anaesthetics - but I have managed the fear and kept on going, when it was hard to take the next chemo knowing what it would do to me.  Chemotherapy, surgery, hair loss - all these things were just there in front of me.  Fear was not an option as these things had to happen - the alternative was unthinkable - so as each day comes I have had to deal with it.

I have tried not to rant - but not always succeeded.  I have tried not to swear - although I have sworn, cursed, ranted and screamed in reality, I will keep that to myself for now.  My journey continues, and this site is (for now at least) my tribute to the people who have supported me so far... until I can arrange for some knighthoods or other very public rewards to be awarded!