Thursday, 30 December 2010

New Friends, Fresh Beginnings.

28th May 2010

Met up with a BC friend from my FB page today. She was so friendly and warm, full of advice about our conditions. We went into John Lewis and had a coffee then went into a toilet and flashed our war wounds. She was impressed with my implant and the scaring, but concerned that they had not done further investigations into my opposite breast. “Maybe it is glandular tissue, but I must admit it does not feel right.” She presses my breast gently. “but what would I know?” she said.
She encouraged me to feel her breasts and I could feel a big difference to mine and her breasts, but I put it down to size that I can feel every lump and bump in mine. If women had a comparison we both agreed it would help. The fact that she did not mind me seeing her breasts and I mine sealed that friendship which may sound strange.
Every time I speak to a women there is curiosity in their eyes. The fear of the unknown and what they are really searching for confuses them. 

We head For the haberdashery department upstairs to check out some material that my new found friend needs. She is going to a cancer event/ birthday taking place outside of London. We search the department for pink accessories and netting to make a skirt. I am upset that I cannot go because there will be loads of other women with BC. I laugh with her about it and think well at least if I make the skirt one of my master pieces will be going. The one thing BC makes you feel is isolated because life still has to go on with responsibilities. If I was single I could decide who where and why, but I have to think about others now and this is frustrating. Why is it that other women seem to have the support of their husbands, but I feel I don’t?
My BC friend (Lyn) can sense my frustrations that I am hiding behind a smile. Like her she can see I have had a rocky ride.
We decide to head for Carnaby street, for a bite to eat and we can shop for bargains.
On the way there we stop off at Liberties and have a peek inside. The prices of all of their sale items were laughable, but it is the brand name that people like to buy not the price. I am fascinated with the wood work inside and its old fireplaces upstairs. It is like something from a Shakespearian play with its balconies. My new found friend knows I like to shop about for new ideas. She said next time we will visit the Albert and Victoria museum for more ideas on costumes. Part of me feels like crying as I pace the old floor boards of this building and I don’t know why. The fact that someone had taken time out to show me around London and things of interest to me was over whelming.
Finally we sit down at a restaurant in Carnaby street. Not before Lyn had done some bartering with the staff. We had a starter or main meal with a desert and a free drink included for £10 each. “If you don’t ask, you don’t get.” She said in her southern accent.
We sat down inside watching the restaurant opposite having a couple being photographed. I had heard of Carnaby street, in magazines and how the rich and famous come to eat, but I found it strange how little old me had become an observer of the people that grace this place. I and my new found friend chuckled at the fact we had got a bargain on our meal while others were most probably paying twice the price. We spent a hour there eating and chatting about work and the various places she had worked in. It felt like a mother hen guiding her chick through the do’s and don’ts without the hostilities in the voice I face with Steve.
Once we had finished we head for Soho and its various shops with brick-a-brac inviting you in. Lyn tries on various bits and bats and we laugh like two teens, but that is what we needed to do to relax. Then we find a shop that supplies theatres and films with accessories. My eyes nearly pop out my head as I look threw boxes of jewellery.
Lyn had asked for a card off the shop owner and placed it in my bag.
I felt like finally I have found someone I can talk too without feeling out of place. I always referred to me as a jigsaw piece who could not fit anywhere. Now this diseases is opening up ideas and doors I would not of followed. It has made me more determined to follow what I want and not just please others.
We walk back to Oxford circus and decided to purchase the bits we had picked in John Lewis, but before that Lyn said we could pop into Harley Street, and visit the clinic she had her treatment at. As we walk up the street I find I feel out of sorts even intimidated. We all know about Harley Street, and its history for treating people. My friend had explained she had private insurance with the company she worked for and this is where she ended up having her treatment. I thought the Big C was a good hospital, but you can understand why people want private treatment. The building was warm and the people were friendly inside. Not at all snobbish or intimidating like I imagined it would be. They greet you with a smile and a cup of coffee or tea. My friend introduces me to the MacMillan nurse who helped her. We sat at a table and chatted about my BC and where I was treated. She handed me various literature which my BC nurse had not taken the time to hand to me. It was all friendly chit chat and totally relaxed. I can honestly understand why women do go private for their treatment. At least Lyn can drop in without an appointment and talk to her MacMillan nurse.
Once Lyn had finished her business there we went and collected the bits she needed from John Lewis. I was so grateful for our meeting and deep down she knew it. The fact is I do feel isolated more so than ever before in my life. I was always a get up and go type of girl. Dealing with situations on my own not trusting anyone due to people letting me down in the past. I was content to be on my own, but was I really just kidding myself?
We left each other at Marble arch tube station to find our way back to the hum drum of life. Who knows how this new found friendship will develop, but I have a task to complete and that is a pink netted skirt.

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