As long as its not cancer, I can manage...

I never thought that I would so casually say, ‘as long as its not cancer, I can manage’ or ‘it is better than the alternative – dying’. However, this has become my reality. It has become my mantra this week.

As those that follow the Dear Melanoma Facebook Page would know, I have had a bit of a rough trot emotionally. However, this last week I have had some scans and tests that fall outside my normal scheduled trial scans. Enter stress, fear, worry and absolute panic mode.

The last month I have been Ms Twitchy McTwitch. I randomly developed a twitch that is the epitome of annoying. Most (lets be honest, pretty much everyone) that I mentioned it to felt the need to share their story of how they often have twitches and it is due to stress or fatigue. I am very well aware that this may be the case as it is not the first twitch that I have had in my almost 24 years, but what sets my special twitch apart is the fact that I have CANCER – CANCER IN MY BRAIN. For me, it is not quite so easy to dismiss it as just fatigue or stress, but instead I fear that this may be an indicator that something is happening in that brain of mine or potentially could be a sign that the cancer has spread to my spinal chord.

Hope in death...

In January, I was sitting down with a palliative care team discussing how I wanted to die. I did not ask about what I could expect. I didn’t ask about the pain I would feel. I did not ask about how I will lose my independence. I already knew what to expect from my last months or weeks of my life.

Instead, I told the palliative care team what I wanted. I told them how I wanted to die. I wanted to die in my family home. I did not want to spend my last days in a hospital. I wanted to die in the bed I share with my husband. I did not want to be forced into a single hospital bed away from my husband.

I know that my last weeks aren’t going to be nice and I am either going to be in pain or out to it on painkillers, but all I can wish for is an ounce of control. Control that cancer would slowly take away from me.