Back home thud .

Woke up , jumble sale of thoughts , never ending stories (that reminds me , I loved that crazy movie until the day that is ,that I switched it on for my little one and realized it’s actually quite f- ing messed up !isn’t it ?, its not exactly a fairy tale after all , it’s part horror!, well for a 6 year old !bad move mummy!)

Head bulging with things I better do , monkeys swinging from one end of my brain to the other , it’s good to be home though and breathe.

Already only 9am , we arrived about midnight last night & 3 messages from lovely friends checking up on me, heart swells .

It’s really good to be home ,somehow although you don’t want the holiday to end , it usually feels right to get back home ,cells sinking into familiar things again relieved that you haven’t received any parking fines that sort of thing !

Mountains of washing to wade through, though , tasks to catch up on that I didn’t do the week I found out.

Basically that week , 2 weeks ago from today , I was in total shock and didn’t know my rump from my elbow , everything was like a slow heavy mist circling around me , like glue , a thick fog but also moving at a thousand miles per hour, not that that makes any sense , it doesn’t , nothing does, but one things for sure I didn’t really know what was going on , I was largely just on auto pilot, actually I was kind of vacant ,living breathing but not really , no time to process what the hell was really happening .

The week before Thursday Bomb shell day , we sold our house and moved into rented that was Friday , will it full through at the last minute ? what are we doing , why are we renting next door ?will the world collapse around us? , interest rates sky rocket , house prices plummet when we’ve already committed to something at a higher price , what are we doing ? repeat what are we doing ? and then to top it mum had a stroke ended up in hospital, at the same time as visiting her , trying to help dad being not much use I might add , I was unpacking the house , packing for holiday , finishing off work and occasionally cracking up ! and boom Breast Cancer too .

So I’m home and must try to ensemble my life back together again and wrap my head around my new reality, well at least get the washing done .

Oh beep beep , another message, a client has heard about me , I’m so tired .

God the kids are getting on my nerve endings ! Jamies playing Neo , full pelt from the computer, trying to sing , my ears hurt , yes Neo if you like ?

um generally not ,suddenly I’m irritable , well no wonder listening to that rubbish ( secretly I like him in small doses , don’t tell Jamie , but not today I don’t ) and the kids are closing in on me .

G is breakdancing through the dirty piles of washing on the kitchen floor and now they are having friendly fighting banter,she’s screaming ,he’s acting like a Neanderthal, I can’t really take it , “Jamie be nice to your sister , be a good brother , Your 20 for gods sake !actually can you two get lost in the front room and give me some space” yes great mothering ,notice a common theme running through my life? I know , but it’s dawning on me that this is real it didn’t vanish on holiday in the pretty sea , I’ve got cancer and I’m really fried, scrambled , hard boiled and frazzled now , although not quite sure what cooking method Frazzled is , just shoot me for goodness sake , fingers to my head ( shoot not very positive), I need some peace and quiet , I need a holiday ………..” kids can you just be a little quieter please”

Feeling tetchy all afternoon ,I managed 8 loads of washing , but suddenly got really tired and my mood dropped further , maybe it’s the letter lying face up on the kitchen table that reads extensive disease that’s getting to me and “ young age , not good for someone this young” , maybe dad just rang and told me I must get a reconstruction and like that will solve everything, “you can then forget about it and move on” like all his friends who have had breast Cancer have had one and it was great, really great , “what friends have you got dad with it I never knew ?” Suddenly he’s the worlds renowned expert on BC and anyway he says , “they are only decorations , don’t worry about it ,you don’t actually need them anymore”, what ? did I hear that correctly ?I’m thinking , yes you don’t need them anymore ,they serve no purpose other than decorative , “excuse me are we in the 1950’s ? Dad” , Oh I’m just a Christmas tree, but then I realize he’s only trying to be kind and being funny too offering me his huge amounts of extra belly fat for some new boobs , love him and we make banter about having my cellulite bottom put on my chest , I mean good plan reduce bottom at same time, kill two birds with one stone so to speak ( kill not a good word )

And then I realize that he’s scared too, just like me , it turns out later that he did have a friend who had a really positive experience with reconstruction and that cheers me up no end , although my natural instinct was completely no way to it , just cut it off sew me up and be done with it ,as long as my friend Lisa said “please tell me you won’t have a tattoo inscribed on your chest saying I love EU forever will you ? “ burst out laughing !” “Might do”

Actually I’ve discovered a bra company that do pretty and sexy undies , feminine and comfy to wear with a prosthesis ,so I don’t need to think about it or do I ? Not yet anyway .

I’m curious though , very curious what all my friends would do in my shoes with the same predicament and the answers I find are lovely and comforting, more on that later when I am clearer on my direction, literally hours ago it was a no way to reconstruction , why bother with all the extra pain and risk ?but I don’t want to regret not doing it ,if infact maybe it might be better for me in some way , emotionally or what ever ,we see , I need to cover all angles here , angles being the operative word, pointed angles , well maybe sloping angles , sloping ? , sliding, drooping …..