Bumps Galore down the Supermarket Aisles

There are many aspects of life that change when cancer is diagnosed, and I believe I am familiar with most of them now.

People's reactions can cause surprise, alarm and others provide immense support and reassurance. Some turn away, lacking the ability to find the right words to string together a worthy conversation they feel confident enough to hold, whilst all I needed was a hug. GP's look at you with sadness (and in my case with a sense of guilt) as if it's all too late. Specialist Medical Teams thrive on optimism and hang on every glimmer of hope. Employers handle with caution and ensure they are following process and protocol to the letter.

The Government deems me now worthy of the badge “disabled”, although I do not believe what I have at this moment in time presents any disability and presents only a feeling of fraudulency. But on the other hand, such a “tag” provides protection and comfort that I will be taken care of both in terms of benefits and discrimination, as appropriate.

Cancer has snatched away many options, but I still have many to choose from. My life remains almost normal, with the occasional appearance from Lenny Lymphoma both physically and mentally but otherwise he allows me to continue as before.

I still have choices, I am still able to make my own decisions, I still have my own free will.

The hardest decision to date has been that of additional children. It needn't be a secret anymore that back in September 2009, after the 'all clear' from my GP on the lump in my groin during my first visit, my husband and I had decided it was the right time to try for a second child. A son or daughter for us, a brother or sister and a playmate for Callum.

Our views on additional children have become slightly uneven since that time. No Medical Team will advise that to try for further children after such a diagnosis is the right or wrong thing to do, but they air on the side of caution, present examples of similar situations and outcomes, but continue to provision all the support required if that path should be chosen.

I always had a personal goal of 40 for a second child. If that age was reached and/or past without a second child then for me, it was as nature intended, but as of December my deadline was prematurely ended; for my husband it is a temporary plot on the pregnancy landscape that should be revisited in 12 months time (6 months before my 40th birthday). My Medical Team support our decision either way, but in my heart of hearts my decision has already been made.

My Father fell to cancer when I was a little over 2 years old and I have experienced a single parent family first hand. My Mum did the most amazing job and became both parents to me, but if I had a choice, I would choose to have both parents every time.

I hope to have many many years of trouble-free illness, but there is an absolute risk I cannot ignore and that's to make a conscious decision to present that possibility to a 4 year old boy and any future children and that is not a choice I am willing to make.

Most days I am able to put this decision to one side. I know of friends and colleagues that are “with child” and I am amongst the happiest for them, but there are other days when I wish not to be reminded of the difficult decisions we have had to make. I counted 12 pregnant ladies in the local Supermarket this evening, it was truly bumps galore on special offer!

They all looked beautiful and radiant and I wish them all the very best. I only hope that one day my feelings of anguish over my own decision will subside and allow me to be at peace.