I meant to say..

... on the 8th March, my lovely consultant discharged me.  I'm a free woman.  It's officially over.  This blog is entirely redundant.

Thank you for reading and keeping me going when life was a great deal harder.

It's that time of year again (2)

Results day today.  Spectacularly anxious in the lead-up, but all fine:  no discernible changes to this year's mammogram.  Not the usual consultant who I invariably wish to propel through the nearest window, but a very pleasant young lady, who used to assist the lovely Mr Douek.  Wonderful.  Positively helpful.  Informative even.

Four years on, and I'd no idea that radiotherapy is the equivalent to one's very own Picture of Dorian Gray:  my right breast will never change, nor wilt, nor fade. Meanwhile, my left will continue to age gracefully and give in to gravity.  Eventually, patients succumb to a little surgical titivation, to even themselves up.  And who can blame them.

Onward and upward.  Toodlepip.

xx

It's that time of year again

Am in that nowhere zone, midway between my annual mammogram & the results.  If I manage to stay asleep until 5am I consider it a bargain, 3am more likely most nights.  Getting a remarkable amount of housework done before work & positively scary to engage with once I get there.

See, here I am, pootling at the laptop, resisting the hoover in case it wakes next door's baby, exploring chermoulah chicken recipes for Sunday.  Beautiful sunrise today, followed by sitting with my wonderful Lumie lightbox for company, convincing me that it's still high summer.

Results due Tuesday.