Change of Diet

I have had a solid few days to do some reading about cancer.

The nurse told me to read the booklets she gave me, and not to surf the internet, and not to change my diet.

I read the booklets (which proved far too simple for the level of understanding that I require), surfed the internet, and now I am changing my diet.

So it's mainly fruit and veggies for me - preferably fresh, raw and organic. Some nuts and seeds. I am not sure about the meat yet - a lot of cancer advice suggests taking the meat out. However, most of our meat comes from next door, and we know that these are the least stressed cows in the world, fully grass fed, and kept on pretty much organic land. So for the time being, the meat stays in.

Alcohol, caffeine, sugar, bread and pasta is out.

The schedule

On Monday I got a sick leave certificate from the doctor and stopped going to work.

But it's not like I have all this free time to ponder things over. I have a new full time job. I attend what seems like a 1000 and one doctors appointments - mammograms, ultrasounds, biopsies, CT scans, bone scans, blood tests, and consultations. And in between all these, my husband and I are busy reading up on the disease, its causes, its progress, and the cures. I am seriously working 10 hours a day, 5 days a week.

The mammogram

The mammogram was a week ago. I went to the mammogram appointment after a particularly stressful moment at work. So when I went into the X-ray room and I felt tears stinging my eyes I couldn't decide whether it was the stress of work or the probability of cancer. "You're still young, you've got a good chance", said the radiologist, as she proceeded to take photo after photo after photo. Two huge tears hit the deck. She didn't seem to notice. It felt good to let the tears go, so I stopped holding back. The radiologist seem immune to them. She just kept asking for different positions, and kept taking photos. You don't take that many photos if you don't suspect something.

By the time I went in for the ultrasound, the tears were coming thick and fast. I had become a waterfall worthy of tourist attention, by Australian standards anyway. The ultrasound technician seemed just as immune to the tears. And what hurt me the most was not the fact that I might die. Because I won't die. Not from this. It wasn't the fact that I might lose a breast. (Although maybe that childhood game of being an Amazon was a bit tactless). It was the fact that there might never be another baby. And even if there is, that baby will never feed from that breast.

Meanwhile ...

Here we are busy with this, that and the other, enjoying our farm and lifestyle, making plans for a bed and breakfast, when out of the blue I get diagnosed with breast cancer. Ouch. The breaks on our life screech to a halt.