I've never been a very patient person, but the week leading up to the next lot of test results was horrific.
I had to take 2 days off work following the biopsies as I was so sore and I'll admit I spent a lot of time being very upset. I hadn't told anyone at work by this point and no one in our personal lives as it was just too hard. I still hadn't told my parents either, and I felt extremely guilty about not returning calls but I just couldn't find the words.
I was still of course hoping that the news would not be as bad as we feared.
I think that I eventually caved on the Friday and told a very close friend - it was difficult as I had both children, so couldn't get upset, but in many ways it also makes you, or at least me, much braver.
We both cried, and decided that the best course of action would be Chinese and Gin, which was then booked for the Saturday night.
I think at this point I decided to go into what can only be described as nesting mode, much to everyone's entertainment. I had conceived plans of updating and tidying parts of the house, making a playroom, reclaiming our living room, moving child No 2 into his own room....you get the idea.
On the basis that I knew I would have to go into hospital before the end of August it spurred me on to get things done, so I dragged my poor son to go shopping in John Lewis and blew rather a lot of money. Apparently shopping is great therapy.
I also decided to torture myself and look at Mastectomy bras. I burst into tears all over the lovely shop assistant. It turns out that she had breast cancer at the age of 27yrs old, so younger than me, and Mr Pain has just done her mother's surgery. He is apparently wonderful, so has the John Lewis seal of approval, which of course cheers me up immensely.
Humour is a wonderful thing - the one thing I've learned through all of this is that you have to laugh. After all - what's the point in crying?
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