Today is a year since my operation. Even though the dates of some things last year are still a bit fuzzy (because of all that snow, and the fact that April turned into May whilst I was in hospital and I never really knew what day it was) this date is one I do remember. Last week I was thinking about it, and while I won't be having a party to commemorate it, I did think a blog entry about the things that have changed in this period of time.
Really, the biggest things I've learned is to trust my body, and I've said this time and time again. I try not to be repetitive with these entries, but before all this I was pretty stubborn about going to the doctor for any health worries. First of all, it can be very difficult to even get an appointment in the first place. Then when I get there, I find it hard to explain what is wrong! There are times when I have thought to myself,"Oh, why didn't I just go to the doctor when I first discovered a lump in my neck?" I just didn't find the lump all it's own to be particularly worrying at the time! It wasn't till I discovered more than one lump, and realised the exhaustion I was feeling was disproportionate to the amount of activity I'd done that day, that I realised something wasn't right. That was the first moment that I realised I should start trusting my body.
I think the second time was during summer when my calcium levels were too high and I was nauseated nearly all the time! When the nausea first started I couldn't pinpoint the reason for it. Then, I started to wonder if is was all calcium-related. My suspicions were right, and the nausea was caused by too much calcium in my system. The nausea was horrible, though. It was unpredictable, it stopped me from doing things, it affected my appetite (that was the worst part, I think!) My appetite is back to normal, now, and now my calcium levels keep being too low rather than too high. That isn't much better, to be honest, but I think it is easier to control and keep an eye on.
The endocrinologists look after me now and I have a really good relationship with them. I find them easy to talk to, and the best part is, when I was having a calcium dip a couple of months ago, one of the senior nurses asked me what I wanted to do. It was really refreshing to have her say that to me. Of course, the thing I really want to do is never take calcichews again, ever, but I know this is not an option, and that suggestion would have been laughed at!
Moving away from the subject of calcium, I have been also thinking about life now, compared to life pre-diagnosis. Probably not a thread I should be pulling at, but I've been feeling pretty reflective lately. I finished university in 2011 and it has been so hard to adjust to post-uni life. Before I finished, somebody told me that the race I was running was my race, and I wasn't to pay attention to the races people were running around me. I did not heed this advice though, and ALL I could think about was other people's lives (my peers, specifically) and how much better they appeared to be doing. I started to doubt myself, and question whether or not I'd wasted my time at university. At no point did I congratulate myself on getting a 2:2 even though I was grieving for my dad. All I could think was,"When's it my turn?" Things started to pick up early last year, so to get that diagnosis just knocked me sideways. When I walked into that consultation office earlier this month, expecting good news but instead being told the results were inconclusive, I was so disappointed. I was disappointed because I thought getting the all-clear that day would be some ultimate victory. I would have won something for once! The more I thought about it, the more I realised that that news was not final. Sure it's annoying to have to keep being tested, and keep waiting, but that doesn't mean that a "victory" can't still come along. I've got to get myself out of that headspace, anyway. Life is far too big and abstract, too full of twists and turns. Sometimes you'll feel like you're winning, and sometimes you'll feel like you can't stop losing. It's why in this past year I've tried to celebrate the little victories. Even when I've felt like I was losing, I've tried to find little victories in it. You have to, or you'll go crazy!
Who can tell where I would be if all this hadn't happened? Maybe working. Maybe still looking for a job. Sometimes I have grieved for the life I didn't get to live while I was being treated for, and recovering from cancer. To me, it started to feel a bit pointless to do that, because I had no idea what else I would have been doing! Now, I'm just moving onwards and upwards!
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