Life is change
The realization is starting to seep in - it always takes a while with me. I’m impatient to find out where I’m at - more information on Thursday, unless they want more tests. I still sleep fairly well, fortunately, but the quiet moments are full of questions. I’m starting to work through what having cancer will mean.
I think after 40+ years of life I’ve finally grown to like my own appearance. I’ve found my own style and am fairly OK with my body shape. Changes to come: my breasts are going to be either partially or completely removed, my hair will fall out. I’ll finally find out what I’d look like bald. Or with a wig. Yay!
Strangely my whole body perception is changed already. I feel frail and breakable, like the wind could blow me away - unusual for me since I’m tall and fit. My senses are in fight-or-flight mode. Everything more vivid and detailed. The crowds in the street feel more alien, like their preoccupations are very different from mine.
For the January sales, no fashion for me: I’ll be looking for fluffy slippers, comfy pijamas and cosy cardigans.
I have more cuddles with my husband and daughter, and they feel more intense. More conversations with my other family.
I’ve come to like my life, and was fairly happy with the way things were going - and maybe I will again at some point. I guess that’s what ‘life is change’ means - you can’t really count on the status quo, the situation is going to continue moving around you.