Since being diagnosed with breast cancer, I have certainly felt as though I am living in the eye of a very fast moving, tumultuous, unpredictable storm.
Last week was particularly tough when after my first session of chemotherapy, I had an adverse reaction to one of the treatment drugs and ended up in hospital.
A very long and anxious night in emergency and a brief stay in oncology and I was good to go again yesterday for Chemo Round 2.
And so I step back into the storm.
Summer has all but disappeared under grey skies that have well and truly settled in.
It has been an overwhelming week of relentless tests and medical appointments in preparation for chemotherapy starting on Monday.
I am grateful that the cool change and rain is perfect for nestling in here at home and making sure body, mind and soul are well rested for whatever lies ahead.
I love surprises. But the one I really wasn’t expecting to end 2020 was to hear the words, “I’m very sorry Michelle. You have breast cancer.”
The doctor delivering this news, just before Christmas, did so with kindness and compassion. But the words still landed with a thumping, knockout blow.
For me, the start of this holiday season has been an overwhelming, shattering, roller coaster ride of ongoing tests, scans, medical appointments and treatment planning. All accompanied by a tsunami of shock, disbelief and very raw emotions.
As I try to come to terms with this sudden and unexpected change in my life’s direction, I find myself unable to join in the excitement and flurry of making plans for the New Year ahead.
Instead, I am preparing to step onto an unfamiliar and seemingly endless road. One that I know I will have to learn to navigate as I go along, holding tightly to a bag packed with courage, resilience and the love and support of my precious and wonderful family and friends.
I have no doubt it’s going to be quite a journey.