Therapy and its Benefits

I remember the day of my diagnosis too well the first person I saw was a Macmillan nurse. I did not instantly connect to this woman, but she was there if I needed her. There were numerous calls she checking on me and I chasing my results from biopsies. Yet I remained trapped with the silent tears I cried whilst everyone else slept soundly at home. These tears I know were slowly swallowing me up inside. I was a robot, very automated and underneath it all I was very isolated from my family. The fact my husband instantly shot me down when I wanted to talk added to my confused state of mind.

Then out of all that darkness was one piece of advice which was a saving grace. Why don’t you visit The Maggie Centre. Although I’m very relaxed about talking I was not sure I would be able to relax in this type of atmosphere. Maggie’s and its home from home set up is a place where you can do exactly that i.e RELAX. It is a retreat, a place where you can chat or simply sit silently and listen. They offer advice on benefits and finding a route where the stress is eased financially as well a range of therapies. It is all PVT and without the burden of cost attached.

My first visit I found myself chatting with the organiser of the centre. Who advised me to try the massage to help me relax? I was nervous and not really sure if I would return after our little chat, but I did. At first I did not want to take up their time especially when someone else needed it more. So I only went to the centre when I had an appointment with my Plastic Surgeon Mr H.

Then one of the other visitors to the centre told me about a therapy that would appeal to me. Art Therapy... It concentrates on relaxation and you could choose whatever you want to do. You do not have to be Van Gogh to join. This was my type of therapy with no restrictions. You just turn up and find a seat whether it be in the group or sat on your own.

Now I have made this my diary must for every Friday morning when my young daughter is at school. Even when I get a phone call from a friend to go for a coffee I instantly say no. My friend did find it amusing when I said I was going to art therapy classes. But I am not going to shy away from something that relaxes me.

Therapy is not all talk; it is about finding a comfort zone where you feel relaxed with the stess minimised. The Maggie Cancer Caring Centres cater for those who are lost in treatment and appointments that seem never ending. They act like a hand coming out of a fog that is so dense to start with it over whelms you. It is about you making sense of the situation and finding a smile or even laughter amongst friends. It also welcomes family members and friends who act as carers. It is a crying shame that only seven of these centres are complete and running in the UK. I think it is about time the goverment recognises the importance of these centres and the important service they provide to cancer patients. To me more should be done to create more centres like the one I visit.

Check my links page for more information on other services provided for cancer patients.

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A Simple Life Without BC

A friend contacted me via my FB page yesterday. One of her friends had passed away of BC and she wanted advice on what to look for. My breast cancer hides the true reality of the disease. There was no chemo or drugs. So visually with my clothes on I was like every other person walking and talking. It was the perfect diagnosis to have with the type of cancer I had so I was told. My treatment was hidden from view beneath clothes and a smile. She could not see my tears, torment or frustration, but with her other friend it could not be hidden. Her cancer had been caught to late it had spread to her stomach infecting major organs. It is sad that she had to experience let alone see the true reality of this dreadful disease. That it took the death of her friend to make her pro active and try to understand. Now I personally can see why pink has become a deadly colour. Whilst it is a bright cheery it is masking something that is sinister.

I reply with how I found my BC that if she wanted one on one advice she was to contact Macmillan cancer support. When advising anyone on cancer I personally prefer referring them to a knowledgeable organisation because even though I have gone through breast cancer there is a lot I still do not know.

On my journey home from dropping Sophia off at school I look into some ones garden. In the garden is a massive dandelion clock. Part of me wants to make a wish and blow its seeds away in hope, but another part of me is reminiscing. Dandelion clocks hold a fairy tale attraction just like a mushroom rings. As a small child I would shout, ‘Don’t step in a mushroom ring a family of fairies live there and its bad luck’. Well maybe at some point I stepped in a mushroom ring without me knowing. I look at this dandelion clock and the urge to wish all the bad would dissolve away is so strong. Yet part of me is mesmerised with its delicacy that I would sooner watch the wind knock it about. As a BC survivor I so wish I could return to a simple life without the worry. As a BC survivor sometimes you cannot stop the fear of what ifs.

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