It is quarter past 5 in the morning and today is the day.  All jokes aside now, the fear is really setting in.  It comes in waves, and dumps me.  I want to say….  I don’t want to do this anymore.  Let me please just pack up and go home….

People say I am brave, but I am not.  I put on this façade of comedy and smiles that come across as being brave and handling everything so well.  With Cancer people are unsure how to treat you and they get upset.  I have felt at times that it is me that has to support people, that I am the one who has to be brave, so that “they” can handle what is happening, when at times all I have wanted is a cuddle and a chance to cry my eyes out too or scream at the injustice of it all.

Pancreatic Cancer is shit.  Actually all cancer is, no one cancer is less scary than another. But this is my one and the survival rate is so low, what on heavens earth did I do to get this one.

The survival rate to 5 years is only 7% and I know it has been caught early so I have a great chance to beat it, and positivity is a huge part of how you handle it, but today, this morning as I sit here waiting for them to come to wake me up,  I am pondering all the what if’s and I am finding it very had to find a positive direction to what I am about to go through.

Dwelling on the negatives is so hard not to do.  What if I don’t make it through the operation? What if they open me up and find the tumour outside of the pancreas? What if they find thy cant scrape the tumour away from the artery? Then they close me up and send me home.  I am scared of the what if.

As I think of the what if’s, my mind is dwelling on all the bad and scary options.  I know I have no option but to have the operation, but the result is so final, there is no going back from what we find.  I find I want to cry, but the tears don’t seem to want to come, and in reality the tears now wont help.

The feeling I have, can only be described as being similar to what I imagine a skydivers first jump feels like.  I know I have to take that leap out of the plane,  (into my personal black hole) but the fear of what it is going to be like during the fall and whether I land safely or collide with the earth at a rate of knots is just so thick I can just about taste it.

So the nurse has come to wake me.  This means it is time to take that first step towards the aeroplane door… wish me luck, and as I go, I am taking all of the positivity that every one of you have sent me over the last 6 months and am wrapping it around me like a blanket and I will snuggle down into it for the day.

I will talk to you all again …… from the other side

2 thoughts on “SKYDIVING”

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