Cancer

This time last year, my mum and I went to Ward 24 of the Royal Infirmary - the gynaecological oncology ward. On the Wednesday, I'd been called by Dr Ali, the guy who was so confident it was merely an ovarian cyst, and he told me that I would now be treated by a Dr Davis. My GP has also called me to let me know that this was merely precautionary and ovarian cancer only occurred in women over 45. Ah well... Nevertheless, I knew in my heart I had cancer. There was no way that they would've asked me to bring someone with me if it wasn't going to be bad news. Still, when I heard it and when I was asked to consider a hysterectomy, I really didn't expect it to hurt me as much as it did. It was bad, but actually not as bad as having your heart broken by someone you loved. :-)

Anyway... I called my four best friends - Miriam, Marji, Jonathan and Pete. Poor people! They just didn't know what to do or say. Also, Danielle and Julie came into town to cheer me up and I ended up buying a dress for Gaby's wedding. It was so fake, but nice that they came to be with me at all. (Fake in the sense that we were all laughing and joking, but only to avoid talking about the serious issue.)

The rest of the day was kind of a blur. I think when I got home, I just burst into tears and cried and cried. I didn't know what else to do. But it's all alright. Today, I'm just stressing about my teaching assessment at 2pm. :-)