my birthday month

August feels like a month to reflect and gather myself. I'm not sure I can this time. Waiting on results

Waiting on the way I'll feel in September

Waiting on the need to feel like we made the right choice.

I'm filling up my time.

Being back feels hard when I remember we're here now. 

It's done.

I'm here.

to be reunited

 I am being reunited with people who have kept me strong through hard times, I am enjoying the connection and closeness. I am also 'excited' to be reunited with my MRI machine tomorrow. I will get to lie in her cosy space and listen to her melody of bangs and clicks and I will then, in September know where we are. I will maybe get a sense of what the year ahead will really be about 

I've been toying with some ideas around taking a year out, of spending it not doing very much at all. And I would simply put in the gap on my CV 'cancer recovery' would it put some off, no doubt but others  - maybe would bump me up their pile. Maybe. This is just a small yet recurring idea. I still can't let go of the idea of going back to work, not least because we are not wealthy enough for me not to earn, my husband won't be getting a very well paid job any time soon. I can't imagine him suddenly needing or wanting to earn more. Would those who saw the gap think that I'm fully cured, all done, a once in a life time awful experience? Because I think a lot of people see cancer as a one off thing, one that can come back but often I've had cancer. Maybe not these days, maybe people know it isn't so simple. And that's partly because there are more people surviving the first one, maybe the second one too.

And here I am just assuming that I'm only worrying about my kidneys - and I am. But of course I know another little bit of me could be slowly fucking up, could have a new brain, spine, pancreas, spleen, liver and maybe even an ectopic one somewhere. Could. 

I've been conscious too of the age of my body, hearing a pal support another woman, 50, who has just had surgery, the recovery is just harder the older you are. You don't bounce back in quite the same way, 6 weeks is not the whole story. 

Letter on the table

 When we got back, less than 5 hours ago there were flowers and 2 letters in my familiar yet unfamiliar kitchen. 

One was for my daughter and one was for me, And even though I'd asked my mum to send it I was still a little taken aback when I realised it was my scan letters. 

I'm tired and grumpy and it's muggy. Thank god I could have a cup of tea. 

End of an era

 This evening I set a fire and opened a bottle of wine that my yr 12 class bought me as part of a leaving gift. I danced in the front room and looked around at all I'm leaving and I felt a soft contentment. 

Who knows what the next chapter will hold, I only know it will have ups and downs. 

The comfort of going home and the people I will see and love is making these last few days so much easier. I have my worries, I have my mild anxiety but they are not overpowering. 

Soon we go, go home and we'll find out about that when we get there.