Diagnosis…

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Sing a song of cell change,

They multiplied array,

Four and twenty blackbirds,

Through my lymph-nodes fly,

When my chest was opened,

The birds began to sing,

Isn’t that a dainty dish,

To try to do me in….

I wish we could have simplified the jargon -my diagnosis was less of a rhyme,

ER diffuse positive

PR negative

Ki-67 15% positive

HER +++

Highly differentiated

Ductal carcinoma

pT2 pN2a (5/23) MO

Stage IIIa

It all seems like Greek to me -no wonder we need to share a smile and a little more understanding, which is why I am raising money for Macmillan Cancer Support, I hope you like my work but please also pass it on and support my campaign at,

https://www.justgiving.com/whims-wishes/

Thank you 🙂

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Turned upside down…

upside down

I’m discharged from the breast clinic,

A small step for a health cynic,

Tied up the gowns, hung up the frowns,

No longer dodging let me downs….

No more the annual mammogram,

I’m gambling or I’m fixed, I am!

The plastic chair, the tears, the stare,

The buttoned blouse I choose to wear,

And hushed impending everywhere…

Won’t push my luck, just au revoir,

I’ve huge respect for all who are

Receiving letters, invites white,

A first appointment, cancer fight,

Hold tight, maybe you’ll be alright…

I have been very lucky and so as I skip away from the breast clinic it feels like I actually got away with it? Whilst that may be weak comfort to those who are still on the watch and wait list, please believe I know a smidgen of your feelings and I wish you well too…