Thursday, 22 March 2012


This picture is like my life... the footpath is marked out with twists and bends pot holes and stones, I don't know where its going and I can't see beyond the fog.

After the oncologists appointment yesterday I am feeling overwhelmed by it all. My dear friend Sherry is right, I am grieving so much right now.

I got my three year clear on my old cancer and I was so looking forward to getting to five years and being able to celebrate being clear of cancer and not in remission. Then this new cancer decides to invade and I am faced with a whole range of scans, monthly injections into my stomach, radiotherapy and the planning that goes with it and a new drug which has side effects. I have another five years to get through.

I feel as though I was serving a prison sentence and now my time has been extended....

I feel fat and ugly my fingers are swollen and I no longer recognise myself as the person I once was.

I had 12 lots of chemo and 18 lots of herceptin, over 40 canulas wrecking my veins making my hands seize up I honestly dont know if I can take five years worth of stomach injections and the way I feel right now I am close to giving up.

But.... today is Thursday and in a couple of hours time a new day will be dawning and I will be picking myself up, dusting myself down and carrying on as normal.

I don't know if I will ever be me again, I guess I have to accept the me I am now and learn to live with it.


  1. Just know Sara that we are all here for you anytime you need to vent. We al dread those tests and visits to our oncologist...always wondering what is around the next corner. You have a loving family and awesome friends that will be your strength when you are down.One song that gets me through it somedays even though it makes me cry is Martina McBride...I'm gonna love you through it....
    I hate all this damn cancer but Sara we will get through it.
    Lots of love and hugs,
    Jill. xxxx

  2. You are you Sara and you always will be. You will be who you are meant to be and then some. And you'll find, that even with this set back, you will come forward and discover new things about Sara that you didn't know. So for now, you'll grieve the loss of "the other Sara", the one you've outgrown. You'll grieve that you worked hard but didn't make it to 5 years...but honey, you can still count that you'll make 5 years on the first round and just keep counting.

    Bless your heart, it's a long road and you've described it beautifully...the path twists and turns and obstacles get in your path and you can't see forward through the fog.

    Comfort yourself and allow others to comfort you. Pamper yourself and allow yourself to feel sorrow and sadness. You've every right. And yes, a new day will dawn tomorrow and you'll see how you feel. It's looking at the big picture and thinking about how overwhelming it is that beats us down. One day, one step at a'll get there. ♥

  3. It's a difficult thing because it is so consuming. I was thinking about it yesterday. I'm 3 years out of treatment now. It's hard to get excited about that, because the fact is I simply do not feel like I ever 'went back to normal'. I thought that I would. I expected to. Three years after the fact, I still ache awfully. I am tired. It takes me longer to process information.

    I'm sorry for your new diagnosis, because that is what each one of us dreads. That it would come back. I understand how it would rock you back on your heels. You've been through a lot. And now it is before you yet again. You've done this once, and you can do it again.

    I'll be the one jumping up and down at the sidelines cheering you on!

    1. Life is so full of overwhelming things that it's hard to stay positive about it all. You have had the rug pulled out from underneath you and these treatments stink. You have a right to feel anyway you want to, sweetie. It's OK to feel bad.
      But when you wake up in the morning and it's another day and you're still alive... You have to look at what might be the reason for this. Why do you think that you are still here? Life is pretty important and so are you.
      What is it that makes you keep going? I'm impressed with your fortitude.You have something special.
      Keep looking ahead... a week from now... a month from now... five years from now.
      I'm a survivor of 28 years. I never thought that I would be looking back at "the years of living dangerously" this many years later.
      It will happen to you too.

  4. Hi Sara, I'm so sorry to hear about your new diagnosis. I am also 3 years since the original diagnosis and I worry about a reoccurrence (not too much, but the thought is always there). With all the treatment you went through, this just shouldn't happen! Stay strong... Beth.


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