I inhaled.

“You have what is known as Ductal Carcinoma Insitu and a small amount of Invasive Ductal Carinoma which is spreading.”

On 28th April 2017, my consultant diagnosed me with breast cancer. As you can imagine for a 40-year-old, relatively healthy fitness instructor, this was quite a shock. I breathed a slight sigh of relief thought when I heard it was treatable, as in my mind, surely that must mean taking some medication and all would be well. However, my alarm bells deafened me, when I heard that my options were limited to cutting out the cancer with a mammoplasty or slicing off my entire lady lump with a unilateral mastectomy.

“Like really? There’s no tablet to take?”

That thought actually appeared in my mind, like in real life. Oh, the days of pre-cancer innocence!

One of my first courses of action, was to get as much information as I could about the treatments. I needed to know that it would be okay. That was a curse and a blessing, as Google is filled with the delightful and the most damning of outcomes. As was Youtube. I had moments where I would close my laptop sobbing as I learned the breast cancer lady whose videos I’d been watching had passed. I had seen way too many “Goodnight Angel” comments. 

But then I also viewed some great encouraging videos of women who had gone on to do some wonderful things with their lives such as: set up a holistic businesses or go travelling, years after their treatment.

 

My daughter couldn’t stop kissed me when she saw me after my surgery.

After gathering my research and weighing up my options, I decided that a mastectomy was best. Why? I felt it would offer me the best possible chance of getting rid of all the cancer cells. At the fore of my mind was: my daughter needs her mum.

 

I quickly learned that I had to put a pair of blinkers on, as I had chosen to announce my diagnosis on Facebook. At the time I thought I was purely doing it to get people to watch out for the signs of cancer but later I realised that it was also a coping mechanism. This news was huge and I needed a large amount of comfort and support. I certainly did get that with over 9000 thousand views and hundreds of comments. With that came lots of well-meaning advice via private messages but I knew I had to stay focused and do what I deemed best for me.

I spent a lot of time with my family and we kept busy in between hospital appointments. I would indulge in intricate colouring-in books for adults, cooking, plaiting hair, planning, reading and playing games with my daughter. I would keep myself busy so that I did not spend too much time with my own thoughts.

During those long nights when I was alone in bed thinking about the possibilities, I would find it difficult to fall or stay asleep. Often when I did drift off, I would wake up with my heart-pounding trying to quickly forget the night terror I’d just had. It felt as though nightly, I’d fallen asleep with a hideous demon hanging from my ceiling growling over me. I was frightened and though I knew I had support, I felt lonely. Lonely because I knew ultimately, I had to walk this journey alone and no one knew what would the outcome will be.

WhatsApp statuses and Instagram were my outlets for my pain and offered some relief. I would post usually a positive quote such as “It’s all about good vibes, big goals, amazing experiences more happiness…”. At other times it would simply be an expression of pain via a beastly image I found on Pinterest.

Of all the mediums of comfort and pain release, writing my blog has been by far the most cathartic. It was there that I could be apologetically honest without having to look in another human’s eyes where I could get caught up in their sorrow and have to pretend I was stronger than I felt.

It was there, I could let the feelings stick to my webpage like Velcro and release themselves from my soul.

It was on my blog that that I laid to rest the old version of Becky, the pre-cancer, naïve, everything will be okay in the end Becky. And that needed to happen. Sometimes things aren’t going to be okay and I become stronger once I accepted this truth.

Through my blog I grew into a wise and resilient woman.

It’s been almost a year since my diagnosis and whilst it has been tumultuous, it has helped me to focus on areas that needed attention such as: building my self-worth, removal from environments and people that drained me and asking myself what I really want to do with my life.

Part of that thinking is what has helped me to complete my training as a Life Coach and launch my life coaching service. I know what is it like to live through very dark days yet still want to live the life you know you deserve. If you are stuck in that place, let’s have a chat.

Contact me at: www.becksinthecity.co.uk/contact

 

A cancer diagnosis is difficult but it is manageable. My advice to anyone who has been recently diagnosed: take care of YOU, put YOU first and be kind to YOU. Caring for yourself, especially when you have cancer is not a treat, it is a necessity.

By the way, on 19th July 18 I was declared cancer-free.

On another note, I will be running the Race for Life for Cancer Research UK on 20th May. I would really appreciate your support by way of a donation. Every little really does help. You can donate here.

Thank you for reading. xxx