I’m anemic. This is a relief as it explains the overwhelming exhaustion, low mood and pale complexion that I’ve been sporting for the last couple of weeks. These days, anything less than rude health and my imagination tends to run away with me and so a low iron count I can handle. Celebrate even. Rather that than something else.
It was my two year ‘all clear’ the other day. It’s a funny old thing. You think you know how you’re going to feel when these significant dates roll around and are sure of how you’re going to mark the occasion but it’s rarely as you imagined. Instead, a strange mix of emotions rise to the surface, many of them gloomy and before you know it you’ve not even had a celebratory cup of tea, let alone a glass of something with bubbles in it.
In the early days, post mastectomy, every week and month that ticked by felt like a lifetime. The fear of recurrence was overwhelming and I looked on in envy at people who had passed the magic five year mark and beyond. Two years is nothing really – gone in the blink of an eye. Who knows how the next three, five or ten will unfold. The trick is to stop wondering and start living.
Celebrate how things are now, I tell myself. Because right now, despite the gremlin on my shoulder, I’m doing pretty well.
Don’t need bubbles tonight. Just a nice cup of tea.
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