The unspoken promise.

I know I will miss getting to make any vows to you.  There will never be the chance to stand in front of the people I cherish the most and tell them that you are the one person in this world I love more than anything.  I will forgo the joy of being thought of as the most beautiful women in the room for a day, of living the fairytale that has played out in my head a hundred times.  It saddens me a little to know I will never have the simple band of metal upon my finger that says I belong, I am somebody’s special someone; I’m home.  Such a simple ring, a sign of everlasting, continuing commitment which I would love to look down at everyday and know I am safe.  For me this will not happen.  But the loss I feel the most is that I will never be able to tell you, or the world, how I feel.  The chance will never be presented where my feelings can be unashamedly told without fear or prejudice.  I will not be able to tell you that I choose you, I take you into my heart, give you my soul and all that I have and are, all that I own and give it to you unreservedly.  We will never get to know the feeling of considering being together in sickness or in health that however rich or poor we are that being together is the most important thing.  The unspoken words that I want to be the best version of me for you, that every day I would need to strive to be as good as I can be as you deserve so much more that I ever could be.  That I would try and make you happy every day and even though time will not be kind to my appearance the love I have will never fade or depreciate, wither or die, it will always burn strong.  How can I not get to tell you these things as saying I love you every minute of every day is not enough?

"Time, which changes people, does not alter the image we have retained of them-Marcel Proust"

Trying to explain the fact that life is different now to one of your oldest friends is tough.  Today I was trying somehow put into words how I feel, and feel like I failed.  Especially as that friend missed the life changing event as they were hundreds of miles away when I needed them the most.  I know it wasnt their fault they weren't there; being posted in Afghanistan is as good an excuse as I would accept for not being at my side but still feels as though they missed me change and we cant get that back.
When I got my diagnosis I didnt have a lot of time before my surgery; Thursday lunchtime was the time of truth and I was first on the list on the Tuesday after, in surgery literally at the crack of dawn.  In that time I had to get a load of scans and tests, have a pre op appointment and try to speak to the people that matter in my life.  Quite a weekend.
When someone is posted to Afghanistan, calling them for a chat isn't on the cards, even if was as urgent as it felt to me.  So Facebook was the only way.  That was the start of change; I was seriously unsure of how to say "this is what I want to tell you in case we never get to speak again".  It seems to have changed from there.
Here we are at the present day and they are due to go back to Afghanistan for 9 months or more and we are trying to meet up before they go.  For some reason I am at a stumbling block.  Yesterday they said "so you free to come for a drink tomorrow night"?  Simples?  No.  You see being free with my time and free with my mind are two different things.  I have nothing planned tonight, but I don't feel free to go, far from it.
Sometimes just going for a drink is unsurmountable; not through fear or anxiety but through a need for safety, security and a familliar environment..is that just a way trying to make fear sound glamerous?
When I was at my lowest I was in a place surrounded by my colleagues, my friends, my support.  I had my wonderful boyfriend at my side for the most part, and my mum there when I let her.  The hospital room became my world, my friends and colleagues saw me at a low where I didnt recognise myself.  They were all there every step of the way, whenever I needed them.  I then went home, petrified.  I gradually adjusted to my new safety net with the same support network behind it.
Then things changed, I moved house, county and eventually started a new job.  This blew my notion of safety apart.  Different environment, people who I relied on over a hundred miles away, just my one constant by my side, my rock but the surrounding ground felt so unsteady, and to a large extent still does.
On his return my friend had missed it all, diagnosis to operation to recovery to problems to admission after admission, the waiting for results, the unknown, the fear, the knowing the support.  And now he sees me, as I was with some scars which are visible to the eye but a whole world of scars he will never see.

New Years Revolutions

It's been a while my friends, too long.  I looked back to see when I last blogged and it was much longer than I thought.  Now this I am sure is for many reasons, being at work I am busier and more tired, getting life back on track..however I think that these are more superficial excuses than reasons.  I think reading back over my last blog I was probably a little worried to 'expose' myself again (don't panic I mean purely on an emotional level!)
I was surprised by some peoples really honest and kind comments, and that people I know now have a little insight into the post big C me. 
I have missed the feel of the keys and the formation of ideas for writing blogs, poems, books whatever I can lay my grey matter on so I have turned it around and think that I need to get back on the word horse and write again. 
So here I am, with nothing deeply profound to say but writing; something, anything.  As I do it I know I have missed it and was a fool to be afraid!  Just another fear to add to the list!

Who's afraid of the big, bad wolf?

Fear is a strange thing, people are afraid of all sorts of things; heights, spiders, clowns, going outside, staying inside, clowns, snakes,flying, death and pretty much anything else inbetween.  Why are we afraid?  Biologically adrenaline has something to do with it, a racing heart makes us feel frightened, but why do we feel afraid.  Most fear is irrational, clowns wont hurt you, small spiders can't harm you, being inside, being outside, why do these things make us afraid?   A famous quote states "the only thing we have to fear is fear it'self" and this lead me to think about what fear is rational.  I know since being ill I am more afraid, of everything; being alone, stupid scary films I didnt used to bat and eyelid at and all manner of other things.  But mainly I am afraid of missing out.  To sound selfish, I dont want to lose out on my future.  Lots of people get sick my age and younger, but I dont want to go anywhere!  I took time for granted and it appears that none of us know...I am sure with time I won't think about it every day.  Cancer patient or victim, which is it to be.  I dont want to be a victim, I want to fight.  I dont want to give up my goddaughter to anyone else, my best friend, my job and it breaks my heart to think but my boyfriend.  I could lose him anyway, but I want the chance to fight.  Every pain, every twinge instils me with real fear.
So how are we afraid of all these things if the only thing we should be afraid of is fear.  Fear is a powerful emotion, it can be so crippling, life changing and irrational which means overcoming it is not easy.  Having never been afraid of much in the past it makes it a little harder to overcome.  I have known people with real fears and havent been able to understand it all.  Now I am afraid every day, it is a little clearer; and being afraif of fear is the least of my worries.

Laughter, is it really the best medicine?

I love to laugh, always have as far as I can remember; although my mum tells me I was quite uptight as a child!  (I'm sure that I will drag some of those stories up later!  One I recall was when my Mum, Dad, Granny and myself were at a swimming pool and there was a slide there and we all went up to have a go.  It said that you could only sit or lie down facing frontwards and there was no sitting backwards etc.  My Mum and Dad went down as norma then I went down like a good girl ( I was only 7 or so at the time.  Then my Granny took her turn.  My Grandad was in a wheelchair and was just sitting watching on the side of the pool.  Well, Granny started off by sitting up, and forwards.  However by the end she had flipped over and spun round and was flying down the slide upside down and backwards.  The worst thing was she could hardly swim and shot out the end of the slide in a whirlpool of disaster and shot out and sunk like a stone.  My dad was diving down to try and get her as mym Mum was hysterically laughing, as was my Grandad sat on the side.  In amidst this all, with totally seriousness said "You're not supposed to come down that way Granny."  My Dad managed to drag her to the surface, she was fine and was laughing herself, probably didint help her at all!  I didnt see the funny side though until I was alot older and laughed at everything!)
My laugh isn't a quiet affair; I have reduced a whole pub to silence and received a round of applause for my laugh once so that gives some idea.  But is laughter the best medicine.  At work today there were a couple of things which ended up reducing the office to raucous laughter.  In my usual way I managed to cause trouble by trying to fish out some biscuit crumbs that I had dropped down my top! This inevitably ended in disaster and led to a couple of funny stories being told and a smile on the face of all the people there.  This is priceless in the workplace where things can be stressed and the jobs really pressured.  It's especially good when you know members or your team are having a tought time in or out of work.
It's not the best medicine I discovered after an operation!  I made my Granny laugh after she had an op on a broken arm and we thought then that laughter wasn't the best medicine.  I discovered this my self after my first operation, where I couln't blink without being in agony.  It was amazing how long I couldn't, and didn't laugh for.  Probably wouldn't have been so long had I not had a laugh santa would be proud of!
My Granny had her own back as when I was out of hospital my Mum brought Wii resort to the house to play to cheer me up.  There weren't many things that I could do on there if they required moving but my Mum and Granny were having a go.  Then suddenly my Granny when she was quietly driving a jet ski, decided to start flying around like a bat out of hell; I have no idea why!  She was hilarious and the pain I was in was unmentionable.  I giggled a bit then started to laugh and it was just too funny, and I then couldnt stop and anything more than a giggle was agony!  I have to say that I was begging her, willing her to stop as I was petrified I was going to burst something.  I was in alot of pain all night but something felt a little better in my heart.  With time I could chuckle more and it definitely felt better when I could!  But for a while there laughter was definitely not the best medicine!,

To Breed or not to Breed, now that is a question!

With love comes compromise, decisions and life choices and what do we do if the person we want to be with doesn't want the same things as us.  What do we do if they are everything, but don't want the same things....
How far should we change?
I was recently talking to a male friend of mine who was suprised to hear my gorgeous man doesn't want to get married or have children.  He said the total opposite of what I exptected, which was what are you worried about, and said I am suprised that you are still with him.  That wasn't the male perspective I was hoping for!  I wanted "dont be such a woman and those things dont matter", but he said it must be killing you.  And at that moment I realised it was. 
After having the odd man in my life that were so wrong in so many varied and frightening ways, of course fate would furnish me with an amazing man who was the polar opposite where life choices were concerned.  I am now in a place where I need to make it ok, where I can reconcile this to make it alright, but there is no compromise when it comes to marriage and children, one of us doesn't get what we want.  And with the status quo firmly in his direction where do I go from here?
I am partly angry at myself for being a woman that feels the need to get married and have children.  It seems that it not the cool thing to do to want to be a wife and a mother.  Is it so wrong to want to stand up and say that you choose to be with someone for the rest of your life, is it wrong to want someone to say I choose you above anyone, you are it for me.  Is it wrong to want to make something so unique as another person with the man you adore?
It's not just a wedding or a child, it's sharing it with the right person and I want to do that with no one other than the amazing man.  So the only conclusion I can come to is it isnt any guy, it's the right guy, the one I wake up to, the one I miss when I go to work and the one I fall asleep with at night, so I guess it's going to be not to breed and that is the answer to the question.

Is it who we are or what we do that defines us?

Mum, wife, lawyer, Dr; these are all labels we place on people.  But what is it that defines us?  Bruce Wayne says "it's not who we are underneath but what we do that defines us" (I know it's from Batman Begins which isn't a literay great but it gets you thinking).  I am unmarried and have no children so immediately the first two arent even on the table; but should I define who I am by what I do??  In true Carrie style...
What is it that defines us as people?
For those wondering about the latter part of my blog title, has she recently got out of a nasty relationship, no...the Big C has been cancer, is cancer and is the latest thing which seems to be the label I cant shift from myself.  In July I was diagnosed with bowel cancer, I was 30 at the time with no family history so the odds were pretty slim.  Yes I would rather have won the lottery, but that was the card I was dealt.  I have never really thought of myself as having a label; the only thing I have ever labelled myself with is my job title and that wasnt really a conscious thought.  But now I just see a cancer patient.  At work, at home, watching the tv it just seems to be in my head.  Why do we feel the need to define ourselves, why the labels.  Is it true that what we do carries more weight?  I work hard, I care about my friends and family, I try to be a good friend, godmother, daughter and girlfriend aren't these things more important that a career choice or the fact we are married or not?  It surely should be more important that my special gift is growing tumours!
I am sure that with time I will see myself as I used to.  I will be the person I was, and hopefully be a better version with more insight.  The scars on my body are a constant reminder of the cancer but that is something I have, or had, and not what I am.