|An individual is only as needy as you choose to percieve them...|
The words ‘Sarah you look gorgeous and you are so brave’ do not ring true somehow. I never heard the words gorgeous or brave before having cancer, so why do individuals insist on saying it now?The fact that I can strip off in plain view, so people see the reality not fiction of having a mastectomy is me sticking two fingers up at this disease. I personally like defying the bullshit society is focused in on. I do not want to be seen as a hospital number or statistic, but an individual who has feelings and a voice. So what does gorgeous or brave really mean in BC land? For a forty something it means nothing, but a nod and not so convincing smile of acknowledgement.
Cancer land and the way people view me on my journey is not a reality I mapped out. Even the ‘Oh I’m so sorry’ bunch of people sat in the wings ready to pounce. But for me it is a every day occurence of BC. As quick as that word is regurgitated in my presence I quickly say, ‘What are you sorry about? That I am actually still here talking...’ The pause in their reply is so long and laughable.
I should carry a swear word box around with me so every time that word is mentioned people have to donate a pound for the ‘Sorry I Have Cancer Appeal!’ And the fact that people always say sorry for saying sorry will mean it will double. Oh does that sound sarcastic, maybe funny, well hell yes it is suppose to be because there is truth in those words that’s why it is funny. How many times have you said sorry lately, plenty I bet.
I woke up and realised that cancer does not take humour away, but the individuals that keep saying sorry do, so don’t say bloody sorry in my presence, but then again I will not have that pound hmm, bloody say sorry I dare you... that’s the Yorkshire blood counting the pennies...
Another annoyance that I have come across is every time I take my freaking bra off someone says ‘Oh that is a good job’ Like it is a work of art and I am unaware of the fact my breast has been mutilated. My mastectomy or imposter sits proud and loud while I look down thinking really. I mean is my mastectomy really that good? Or is it just a bunch of people lying their arses off to save face, when really they would like to say jeez who butchered you.
I mean it happened in the playground, so why can’t it happen in a hospital environment with adults. What should I be chuffed as a chimp being viewed within a cage at having such a lovely lump of silicone and back muscle?
At times I feel I am a clown within the circus of cancer land. That I over compensate with humour to hide the anger of individuals reactions. I know I am confidant, but some days that confidence is lacking and I actually feel like punching someone which is normal considering. Ok, so my grumble done till next week.......