Happy DX Anniversary to Me...

I started this blog thinking that I could blog-therapy a lot of stuff about my journey with breast cancer, but it hasn't turned out that way. It's not that I am consciously choosing not to, but more that I find that I have less and less attachment to my identity as a "cancer survivor".

Except on this day.

I have been thinking a LOT about my cancer lately. Much more than usual. And I have been feeling incredibly scared and sad..... the kind that takes a few minutes to realise what I'm scared and sad about. And then Boo reminded me. Without meaning to.

Yesterday he said "Tomorrow is Gillian's birthday! Oh... that means that tomorrow is the anniversay of 9/11." And I suddenly realised that that meant that tomorrow was my 7th anniversary of my breast cancer diagnosis (dx). Which explains all the recent sub-conscious focus on my cancer.

Sheesh. And it really IS sub-conscious. And it bites me on the bum every bloody year.

I have an incredibly wonderful group of women who are my bc support group. We were all diagnosed at around the same time and met on an international internet support group. Over the last 7 years I have been incredibly lucky to have been visited by 2 of them (one of them twice) and have also visited 5 of them (they are all in America and Canada). Our little group has diminished over time..... due to the tragic reality of the statistics of developing metastasis of the original cancer.... and the downside of belonging to a cancer support group is that we support each other through dying just as much as through living.

I hate this day.

The day I was dx'd, Toto's godfather (Big H) was staying with us from the UK. Obviously, my entire world was shattered. My children were 3 and 4 and I was living in a little house in a completely different part of the city from my parents. At 10pm-ish, Big H woke me up to watch the WTC buildings collapse. And I knew that my own problem was diminished hugely because of the untenable terrorist acts that occured on that day.

I have lived in NYC. I had a close girlfriend who worked in the WTC and I couldn't get hold of her on the phone. She was okay, but I later found out that two of my "christmas card friends" (friends that you catchup with once every year via a christmas message) lost their lives.

I was thrown into even more turmoil. It's hard to describe it. One part of me felt that I needed the attention because I'd just been given those incredibly impossible words "It is malignant", and another part of me felt that it was insignificant compared to global affairs. Most of me was wildly flailing somewhere in the middle.

*sigh*

I survived. The most supportive person, other than my parents, was my friend who is currently ill and in a psychiatric hospital.

And I should be leaping for joy that it's 7 years ago, because really that means that my chance of recurrance is as the same as someone who has never had breast cancer. Yes, I should be happy. But emotionally, it's not a good day for me.

I will spend most of it with my ill friend. And I will celebrate the divine Gillian's 41st birthday (oh to be in Glasgow with her to celebrate properly) but I will also mourn.

I'll be mourning the "me" who didn't have to face that incredibly horrendous day. And the arduous journey that followed.

Gillian's family...

Gillian's parents re-organised their holidays to be here for the boys and me.  Pretty amazing.  And to top it off, they put on a true-blue Aussie b-b-q for us on Sunday.  Gillian's brother and his family, her sister and her family (who are absent from the above photo) and the divine Wendy made us feel special and very loved.  

And then Mike and Grant, two of Gillian's oldest friends, took the boys to see "The Incredible Hulk" while Gillian and I visited the local pub.

A wonderful day.

Up the Byres Road...

Gillian lives in the grooviest part of Glasgow, the West End. Her flat is absolutely perfectly located for pubs, restaurants, cafes, public transport and ambient strolling. And today I've done a fair bit of the latter. I was able to do that because Gillian has taken H and F to the Science Centre (an activity that would leave me yawning).


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And tonight we're having pre-dinner drinks with two of her dearest friends that I've not met .... and tomorrow a bar-b-que with her entire family. I'm in heaven. I barely have to make any decisions regarding food or itinerary or even bed-times! They boys adjusted instantly and completely to the local time, and although they're staying up a bit later than when we're at home (well..... we ARE on holiday) they're sleeping through.

Next week we're off to Edinburgh for a night before visiting my family's "seat" in Scotland. Yes, that's right! The Family Castle! Luckily for us it has a B&B and Gillian has organised for us to stay there. Pretty exciting stuff!!

It's very easy to feel instantly and thoroughly Scottish while staying here. All of our first names are Scottish and our surname is thoroughly and utterly Scottish too (and quite uncommon). When visiting the site of one of the most significant battles between the Scots (Jacobites) and the Government (English).... it was incredibly moving to see our forbearers' names listed amongst the dead.

In fact, I found it so disturbing that I took my tears to the car while Gillian and the boys explored further.

are ye awright bawheid?

It’s so corny..... but there’s nothing like being met at the airport by a wonderful friend that you haven’t seen for years. By the time we got to Glasgow, the boys and I were absolutely shattered. F’s ears wouldn’t pop on the last flight, and I had severe nausea. We were all fantasising about never having to board another flight for as long as we live.

And there was Gillian.. and it was all worth it.

We spent yesterday afternoon walking around Gillian’s neighbourhood (Partick). We walked up Byers Road and then through Glasgow University... before walking in the rain through Kelvingrove Park and through Kelvingrove Art Gallery and Museum. We watched kids skating and biking on a purpose-built track ...... and saw two wedding parties.

The last time I was in Glasgow, it was deep winter. It was so cold that I had arthritic pain in my hips. The sun rose about 10.30 am and set about 3.30pm. It rained often and often.  And this time everything is different.  The light is amazing..... the air is crisp and clean  and the colours of the sandstone buildings seem to leap out at me.  It's light from 5-is in the morning until after 10pm.  It's like a different city!

And this afternoon Gillian organised a street parade just for us! (umm...) The West-End Mardi-Gras passed along our street and provided MUCH entertainment.  

Tomorrow we are taking off for a road trip to the north-west of Scotland.   

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