May Contain Nuts

MRI day. I’ve accepted what’s happening, I just need to have all these things done so they know where this cancer is. Simon is with me. We have a conversation, Mum had this done when she had her heart problems (I think). She panicked; I do remember that. I keep telling myself that I won’t. I can meditate and keep calm. What a joke!! 

When you’re put feet first into a machine, face down, with your head surrounded by a head rest so you have no idea what is going on, the panic starts. I could feel my breathing becoming erratic. I can’t do this. Why on earth did I think I could? I’m not strong, I’m an idiot. The headphones were playing Take That, I concentrated on them. Then Fleetwood Mac, I sang along. The thumping and the buzzing and the juddering and the noise and the confinement continued. I hummed to myself, getting louder. I don’t care. Paul Young – nailed it mate. The dye went in my hand, more noise. Then it hit me, this is real now. This is what the start of the hunt for the cancer is. This is a short scan. I’ve got an operation to get through. I can put on a brave face to everyone else, I can do the dark humour and make them laugh. I can’t do it to myself. My brain knows how I feel. I’m scared, I mean really scared. This is the start, and I have no idea where it is going. My life for the foreseeable future is now going to be all about cancer. Getting it out. Stopping it spreading. 

What if it’s not a small lump? What if I’m riddled with it? How much can I cope with? How is they going at affect my family? Why me? 

I know I didn’t like the MRI, but will I think that’s a piece of piss when compared to the operation, or the chemotherapy. I have resigned myself to the fact that there is never cancer without chemotherapy. They are going to poison me to help keep me alive.  

Text from Tracey: 

“How did you get on today? Sending you a big hug xx” 

“Very weird experience! Face down on some weird padding with my boobs dangling down, listening to Smooth FM and singing along to Fleetwood Mac whilst the machine makes loud noises for half an hour. And the nurse apologised for bruising my hand when the cannula was fitted. Overall, not an unpleasant experience but not a fun day out. 5 out of 10 xx” 

Sent the same one to Andy too. 

Did you see what I did? Yep, dark humour, make it funny and I can cope with it. If I can keep this up all the way through, it would be a bloody miracle.