When I think back to the evening I found the evil lemon seed lump in my boob it always surprises me how understated it was. How could I not have appreciated what a humongous life changing, life saving moment it truly was? How could I have no sense that life was about to become utterly shit for the next year or so?
Me to Ad: I think I can feel a lump. Can you feel that too?
Ad: Yeah there’s definitely something there.
Me: I’ll get it checked out. It’s probably a fatty lump or cyst. Fancy a bacon sandwich? *mundane conversation follows*
I look back to our works Christmas party which was just before I found it and I feel sorry for that happy, carefree, naive me that had no clue quite how much crap was about to land and how much life would be about to change forever.
I didn’t know, hadn’t a clue, that when these pics were taken I had cancer growing inside me. Surely I should have known? I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about the weeks before I knew, wondering if I’d missed a sign, a chance to connect the dots sooner. But there was nothing. Nada. Nowt. I didn’t feel ill in any way. Nothing to make me suspicious. Life was beautifully ordinary and I felt on top form.
So we come back to the importance of the evening I found it. I checked myself because I had a tender boob. It was unconnected to the cancer but that’s what made me check myself that evening. It’s just a few days from the 2 year anniversary of that evening and I will no doubt spend the next few weeks remembering the horror of the diagnosis. So I make no apology for this blog, for this reminder to every reader out there to check your boobies. For me. Please. ❤️