Woke up yesterday morning to find an email message from L, telling me that perhaps I should have a more positive bent on my blog entries. This surprised me; for although I do have my 'woe is me' moments, I feel that I have been pretty upbeat and positive in my general outlook. However, I do apologise if my blog has been moan-y and victim-like: these are two traits I dislike immensely and the thought that I have been such appalls me.
Admittedly, after reading the said email, I did try and focus on the positive: I have had friends and family rally round and send me their love and energy; something that I've certainly drawn a lot of strength from. I spend more time being 'in the moment' rather than trying to multitask and not appreciating the beauty of everyday occurrences. I feel surrounded by love and thus feel more love for my family and the very special people around me.
At the end of the day however, this cancer has really been a bugger: I hate the fact that it has taken away the security I used to feel and I hate the vulnerability that has come with it. I resent the fact that I am unable to lead my life the way I want because I am a slave to doctors' appointments, scans, and numerous blood tests and injections. And being upbeat about a cancer diagnosis is hard work; after all, the common perception is that cancer is a death sentence. This is incorrect and I know that this is not the case for me: breast cancer is the most researched cancer and has a very high rate of success. However, although I know this as fact, the word cancer has such a stigma attached to it that the question of survival ultimately comes into the picture.
I could, I suppose, be more positive - however, I write this blog mostly for myself - it makes me think and assess all that I am going through whilst purging myself of the negative feelings I may have. And at the end of the day, the only way I can make this work is by being honest to myself and writing about what I feel and my experiences - whether it be with a mad "Reiki Master" or the heartbreak of an unexpected result.