My drops of tears I'll turn to sparks of fire

A couple of weeks ago, I came across this article about an oncologist who experienced cancer for herself and realised how trite some of her 'reassurances' to patients can be.   Two key observations have come out of this for me. Firstly, I didn't know about 'ringing the bell' at the end of treatment. I didn't know this was a thing.  And today, I found the bell at Velindre. But I haven't rung it yet.  Why not?? you may ask! Because I really don't feel like I'm at the end of treatment.  I still have a good number of herceptin treatments to go, and this whole ovary removal thing to explore.  Yes, I am past the biggest stages: surgery, chemotherapy and radiotherapy are all done and that is fantastic. A massive relief.  But I'm not finished yet. And on that note, and Secondly, I met with my lovely surgeon - Kelvin - last Monday, and effectively he signed me off his list.  He is really lovely, and in many ways I'm a bit sad that I won't see...

Nearly at the end of radiotherapy - just two more to go, as I write this.  I had a review today and I was reminded that the soreness may get worse over the next two weeks before it gets better, and given a pot of cream to help keep the area moisturised. All good.  However, the nurse I had the review with unintentionally upset me a bit.  She started with "I've been reading all about you. Gosh, haven't you been through it. To get it twice..." or words to that effect.     I know she really only means to be sympathetic and understanding, but when I hear a medical professional express some shock and horror at my experience, it makes it feel worse, heavier, serious, scary.    I end up being the cheerful one, telling her how "other people have it worse" (her expression told me that they don't, not all of them), and that I've coped quite well with all the treatments, really. I have. I really have.  I was reading today of one of the other ladies o...