365 days ago, I was sitting in work with Steph and she asked me how I was doing. ‘When do you get your results’
‘I don’t know, I’m guessing no news is good news’
How wrong was I.
30 mins after that lunchtime chat, I had a call from the consultants office.
‘Can you come in tomorrow. I’ve got an appointment at 10 for you. Ok darling?’
As soon as she called me darling, I knew my fate. Doctors receptionists don’t call you darling without it being laden with guilt that they have to make that call.
So I knew what was coming without knowing what was going to happen.
I’ve had lots of support this year. Met people who were so compelled to talk to me. Lost people who were never really there.
Learnt eleventy billion things about vaginas and that has somehow made me a better person.
I’ve had over 400,000 people come visit my humble blog, from hormonal mothers to new bosses to a great fan base in Malta.
I’ve been on TV with Doctor Hillary Jones and corrected him (off screen) on the symptoms of cervical cancer.
I’ve decided that short hair really does suit me. As does how lovely and thick it’s becoming.
Oestrogen is awesome as is the fact that I will never ever ever ever get PMT or have a period again.
As well as super human cancer busting actions, I also discovered I have the power to get over 200 people, for one day every 3 months to wear, use or touch something purple.
Lots of people like purple and now like to point out every purple thing to me. I loves this I do.
James thinks his Mum mum is an actual real life Super hero, just like ‘Capin Merika’.
Pete has realised that cancer took a lot from both of us, but my ability to nag, even whilst I was throwing up from Emo chemo never waned. Give that man a medal.
I know that I’ve helped lots of people this year and not those just fighting cancer.
My obsession with olives has dwindled which I’m sure is a direct result of my treatment. But my love for Starbucks grows and grows. This year I’m having a shit load of Red cups to make up for not having them last year.
My tolerance for bullshit has hit an all time low. But my resilience to personal attacks has built up so much that I do actually speak up.
This Frannie is feisty.
365 days ago, I was a shell of the person I am today. Trust me, the shelled out moments still happen. Will happen.
But, I’m not the same person I was anymore.
I am better.