Business as usual
Feel the sea breeze
So what do you do the day after a cancer diagnosis? Sit and weep? Pretend the words "you've got cancer" didn't fall from the Consultant's lip? Go into denial - this can't be happening, I felt well. Well, if you're like me, you do what you think is right - you go to the seaside for the day for a bit of normality!
Gary and I love going to the coast, Scarborough especially and taking our dogs Jake and Milly - they're Cavalier King Charles Spaniels, both are rescue dogs. Jake was a domestic rescue nearly 9 years ago, his owners didn't want him anymore so dumped him at a local, now defunct dog rescue shelter and Milly was an ex-breeding Cavalier who had spent her entire life on a puppy farm. Both these dogs are my world and I always affectionately call them "my babies." They're just like kids to me!
I needed some normality the morning after being told that I had the dreaded"C" word. I needed some escapism for a few hours, some time just to be me, some time to just try and put the breast cancer diagnosis to the back of my mind instead of it being the loud banging drum at the forefront of my every waking thought.
For me, I love the fresh sea air and the walk along the beach. The whole essence of life and nature just getting on with, well, simply living and just "being." Jake has always loved the beach and Milly has developed a fondness for it too. They enjoyed their day on the beach that Saturday afternoon and the fish dinner they had afterwards!
It was great to have a walk along the beach and feel the fresh sea air blowing through my hair and how poignant would that moment turn out to be? I didn't know it at the time that I would find out the following month that I would require chemotherapy as part of my treatment plan to rid my body of the cancer and hopefully prevent it from recurring at a later stage.
The day at the beach despite the coolness of early October was just what I needed to try and keep some normality before the madness of the ensuing next 10 days where my life would be dictated by various hospital appointments and people prodding, poking and telling me what would be best for me. And for a self confessed control freak like me, giving up my control to others to tell me what was the best course of action for me was so hard to do. It was like I was giving up my freedom, my normality, my choice in what I wanted to do and how I lived my life. It was so hard to do and I resented it and I still resent it to this day but that's a topic for a whole other blog at a later date.
Gary and I love going to the coast, Scarborough especially and taking our dogs Jake and Milly - they're Cavalier King Charles Spaniels, both are rescue dogs. Jake was a domestic rescue nearly 9 years ago, his owners didn't want him anymore so dumped him at a local, now defunct dog rescue shelter and Milly was an ex-breeding Cavalier who had spent her entire life on a puppy farm. Both these dogs are my world and I always affectionately call them "my babies." They're just like kids to me!
It was great to have a walk along the beach and feel the fresh sea air blowing through my hair and how poignant would that moment turn out to be? I didn't know it at the time that I would find out the following month that I would require chemotherapy as part of my treatment plan to rid my body of the cancer and hopefully prevent it from recurring at a later stage.
The day at the beach despite the coolness of early October was just what I needed to try and keep some normality before the madness of the ensuing next 10 days where my life would be dictated by various hospital appointments and people prodding, poking and telling me what would be best for me. And for a self confessed control freak like me, giving up my control to others to tell me what was the best course of action for me was so hard to do. It was like I was giving up my freedom, my normality, my choice in what I wanted to do and how I lived my life. It was so hard to do and I resented it and I still resent it to this day but that's a topic for a whole other blog at a later date.
Carrying on working when an emotional bomb has gone off
Going into work on the Monday after my diagnosis was really difficult and I had had to have a stern word with myself before setting foot in the door that I was under no circumstances going to cry at any point whilst in work and why? Well, because Joanne just doesn't do that.
It was so hard being in work and attempting to carry on as normal as if nothing had happened on the Friday when I was diagnosed. In reality all I wanted to do was to be anywhere but at work. I needed time to process the diagnosis and the "bomb" that had gone off in my life. It was almost like work didn't matter anymore and that in the grand scheme of things why should it? I had only 72 hours earlier been told I had breast cancer, yes breast cancer and yet sat at my desk I remember thinking "did I really get told I had breast cancer? How can that be? I'm sat at work and the company is just getting on with it as if nothing has happened."
You see for me, that's what I felt I had happened. I felt as if my world had stopped at 11.30am on the 6th October 2017, I felt like I would never be the same again and that I would never feel the same again. I felt like my world had quite literally imploded that day - like a bomb had gone off in front of me and that I was shattered into hundreds of little pieces and that I would never collect up all those pieces again to make me whole. That is what the impact of a breast cancer diagnosis felt like, it was quite literally like a bomb had gone off and for the most part it had paralysed me. I was wracked with fear, with trepidation of what was to become of me and my life as I knew it.
I remember one of our Directors and owners of the company approaching me at my desk and he fought back tears as he touched my hand and said "H has told me you've been diagnosed with breast cancer. I'm so sorry to hear that but I want you to know that the company will support you 100% whilst you go through treatment, we just want to see you well again." At those two sentences I struggled to hold back the tears, if there is one thing that will pretty much start me off crying, it's when men cry and the Director's lip was quivering and his eyes all welled up. I can't remember exactly what I said other than "thank you, I really appreciate it." I felt in that moment that a little weight had been lifted.
I spent the next 7 working days, attempting to carry on as normal as if I hadn't been diagnosed with breast cancer and for the most part that was what I did. Work gave me some normality, it gave me a focus - it was a part of my life that could carry on as normal. I chose not to tell anyone about my diagnosis other than HR, my Line Manager, Office Manager and Department colleague besides the Directors. I didn't need others knowing at that moment in time. I just wanted normality. For the most part that's what happened, I carried on with my job, with my site visits and even telling our Site Manager's that I would see them the following month for their monthly Health & Safety inspections knowing full well that it was a blatant lie as I would be recovering from whatever surgery I was having. But for me, I needed the normality, I needed to just focus on doing my job as well as I ever did and for those hours at work I could escape the "cancer bomb" that had imploded in my life.
For the most part I handled work quite well and I could carry on as normal. What made it hard was other people who were putting two and two together and coming up with anything other than four and assuming that I was leaving the company. There is a small group who like most office environments, think they have a right to know everyone else's business despite the fact it has sod all to do with them! They were allegedly spreading rumours of me leaving as they had seen that I had gone to a couple of hospital appointments during work time when in reality they had no clue what the real reason was. The day before my surgery I told my Manager to let it be known at work that I had been diagnosed with breast cancer and in spectular style during a meeting he announced "the reason Joanne is not in work today and won't be for a substantial amount of time is because she has been diagnosed with breast cancer and is today undergoing an operation to have the tumour removed."
Unfortunately I missed this meeting but wish a camera had been installed because my Manager said you could "see" and hear the sound of people's chins hitting the table in shock and disbelief. I think for some people it was a case of humble pie was very much eaten.
It was so hard being in work and attempting to carry on as normal as if nothing had happened on the Friday when I was diagnosed. In reality all I wanted to do was to be anywhere but at work. I needed time to process the diagnosis and the "bomb" that had gone off in my life. It was almost like work didn't matter anymore and that in the grand scheme of things why should it? I had only 72 hours earlier been told I had breast cancer, yes breast cancer and yet sat at my desk I remember thinking "did I really get told I had breast cancer? How can that be? I'm sat at work and the company is just getting on with it as if nothing has happened."
You see for me, that's what I felt I had happened. I felt as if my world had stopped at 11.30am on the 6th October 2017, I felt like I would never be the same again and that I would never feel the same again. I felt like my world had quite literally imploded that day - like a bomb had gone off in front of me and that I was shattered into hundreds of little pieces and that I would never collect up all those pieces again to make me whole. That is what the impact of a breast cancer diagnosis felt like, it was quite literally like a bomb had gone off and for the most part it had paralysed me. I was wracked with fear, with trepidation of what was to become of me and my life as I knew it.
I remember one of our Directors and owners of the company approaching me at my desk and he fought back tears as he touched my hand and said "H has told me you've been diagnosed with breast cancer. I'm so sorry to hear that but I want you to know that the company will support you 100% whilst you go through treatment, we just want to see you well again." At those two sentences I struggled to hold back the tears, if there is one thing that will pretty much start me off crying, it's when men cry and the Director's lip was quivering and his eyes all welled up. I can't remember exactly what I said other than "thank you, I really appreciate it." I felt in that moment that a little weight had been lifted.
I spent the next 7 working days, attempting to carry on as normal as if I hadn't been diagnosed with breast cancer and for the most part that was what I did. Work gave me some normality, it gave me a focus - it was a part of my life that could carry on as normal. I chose not to tell anyone about my diagnosis other than HR, my Line Manager, Office Manager and Department colleague besides the Directors. I didn't need others knowing at that moment in time. I just wanted normality. For the most part that's what happened, I carried on with my job, with my site visits and even telling our Site Manager's that I would see them the following month for their monthly Health & Safety inspections knowing full well that it was a blatant lie as I would be recovering from whatever surgery I was having. But for me, I needed the normality, I needed to just focus on doing my job as well as I ever did and for those hours at work I could escape the "cancer bomb" that had imploded in my life.
For the most part I handled work quite well and I could carry on as normal. What made it hard was other people who were putting two and two together and coming up with anything other than four and assuming that I was leaving the company. There is a small group who like most office environments, think they have a right to know everyone else's business despite the fact it has sod all to do with them! They were allegedly spreading rumours of me leaving as they had seen that I had gone to a couple of hospital appointments during work time when in reality they had no clue what the real reason was. The day before my surgery I told my Manager to let it be known at work that I had been diagnosed with breast cancer and in spectular style during a meeting he announced "the reason Joanne is not in work today and won't be for a substantial amount of time is because she has been diagnosed with breast cancer and is today undergoing an operation to have the tumour removed."
Unfortunately I missed this meeting but wish a camera had been installed because my Manager said you could "see" and hear the sound of people's chins hitting the table in shock and disbelief. I think for some people it was a case of humble pie was very much eaten.
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