Defining Me


My hair started falling out soon after my first chemo, so I had it shaved… drafty but better than facefuls in my pillow!

Posted to FB a few days ago, I first wrote this in an email to a dear friend… and then realised I had more than one friend who should read it! I place it here as my opening blog post as I learn how to do this.

Cancer does not define me.

Not the possibility or reality of its presence or absence, or anything that comes with it. I do not fear it, wait for it, feel victimised by it, worry about it, slow down or speed up for it, or change a single thing for it.

I am me. I love Christmas, roaring fires, toasting crumpets, fresh crunchy snow underfoot in beautiful forests. I love sunshine and warmth, laughter, dancing, the feel of the wind on my body and the beauty of the ocean whether I’m above or below it. I love the stillness of pine trees in the woods where I run (ahem), and being curled up with a cat on my lap and a mug of Ovaltine. I abhor cruelty and being cold, empty silences not filled with peace, and people who don’t look where they are going. I detest crowds, busyness, and pointless noise.

I love friends who know me not as someone dealing with cancer, but just the crotchety feisty twat I’ve always been and always will be. Of course I don’t want fuss… it’s just cancer, silly. It’s not me. I’m still here, not going anywhere, not changing a bit.

Just sayin….

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