So, I haven’t written a blog for a few days now because I’m pleased to say that temporarily this week my life returned to normal (normal being pre-cancer).

I met my boss on Monday, he travelled up from Bristol to see me and how I was doing and so that I could update him on the latest details of my treatment plan. I am SO lucky that I work where I work. I work for a big blue-chip company and so far, they have treated me exceptionally well, especially seeing as I have only been working for them for 7 months. I agreed with my boss that I would return to work for 2 weeks before my next op and this week has been the first week.

It felt so good to put on work clothes, attend a meeting and not have to go to hospital or get my tits out for anyone! It also made me realise that we all moan about work from time to time (me included) and this is completely normal. However, when you find yourself in a position where the choice to work has been taken away, you suddenly appreciate that being able to work is a privilege.

Dave was still in South America this week (he came home yesterday) so it meant I was kept really busy with work, meals and running the kids around.

Normal life.

It continued into the weekend too. Back in June I had booked tickets for my Mum and me to see ‘Calendar Girls’ at The Winter Gardens in Blackpool so I decided I was well enough to go and didn’t want to miss out. I’m so glad I did. The show was fantastic and very funny but I did have a few tears, (no surprise there) after all, it is about a man dying of cancer and his friends raising some money to buy a new sofa for the hospital. The irony wasn’t lost on me! A brisk walk along with sea front and some quality time with my Mum was the icing on the cake.

Unfortunately, the ‘normal’ week was punctuated with a letter from the NHS (sadly I think I’m competing with my Dad now for the award for ‘who’s at the hospital the most’) telling me the date of my meeting with the oncologist – November 13th.

My next operation is on 30th October. I have 10 days left to be normal (well as much as I can with nerve pain and sore armpits) before the cancer train leaves the station again.

My God, I’m going to make the most of them.