Why such a topic, one might wonder!? Yes, I’d wonder too. With, of course, the difference that I know exactly why I chose such a headline for this post. I bring up my boobs, because today I learned that I have a tumour in my left boob.

One might also wonder why I bring this up on this particular blog. We’ll get to that.

First off – I found this lump in my boob earlier this year (midst June, to be exact). At first, I panicked. Second, I thought to myself that I won’t tell anyone about this – and tomorrow it’ll be gone. It wasn’t gone when I woke up, and after one day I decided to talk with couple of friends who’s had breast cancer. Both of them told me to call in – if there was something, I’d get help to remove it, and it probably wasn’t anything anyway.

Due to Covid, the waiting lines were months long, so I didn’t get my checkup until two weeks ago today. Between then and now, I’ve also done a MRI. And today, I got to meet a surgeon who told me that the lump in my boob actually is a tumour that needs to be removed.

So far, I have no idea what happens after surgery. They won’t make any further plans until they know exactly what they’re dealing with. I suspect I’ll be getting radiation, but I’m not too sure I’ll be needing chemo. That remains to be seen.

So, on Tuesday I’ll go into surgery. I get to go home the same day, so it’s not that major – or so I choose to interpret it, anyway. They’ll cut my boob open, remove the tumour and also couple of lymph nodes while they’re at it.

Now, what’s interesting about all this are – several things, actually.

First of all; I did the MRI on my mom’s birthday. That in itself gave me the vibes that there was something – especially considering that my mom died from her cancer (which was completely different from this one).

Secondly; I am not my mother. Fortunately, so, I might add. I remember mom telling me that the hospital sent her samples to Uppsala University hospital with an ambulance, and I could hear just how proud she was, how special she thought she was – not considering they probably do that with everyone. When I had the biopsi done, the doctor told me that they would request a quick respons, and I sat there feeling so ashamed, not wanting any special treatment – because I am not my mother. I didn’t say it out loud, but that’s how I felt.

Thirdly; I am beyond amazed at my own reaction to this. I’ve been anxious as hell for the past two weeks, wondering, ruminating et cetera. The worst part is the waiting and not knowing what to excpect, how to relate to whatever it is you don’t know, and so on. But now that I do know, I feel fine.

I don’t think of myself as “having cancer”. I think of it as – my body grew a tumour inside my boob, and it doesn’t belong there. It’s an uninvited tenant that needs to be removed. And that will happen on Tuesday. If, just to be safe and sure it won’t return, I need more treatment – I’ll take it. I’d prefer not needing chemo, but I think I may have to go through radiation.

What is most interesting of everything, however – well, I think there are multiple things, actually, so let’s start with one.

This will not be the worst thing that has ever happened to me. Those things are behind me. Growing up with a covert narcissistic mother and the consequences of that – that is the worst thing that has ever happened to me. Nothing can compare with that. This is a piece of cake, compared to my childhood and dealing with all the crap that came as a result of it.

Also, I don’t feel sorry for myself. I don’t want nor need any special treatment. I’m not even sure I’ll go public with this (aside from this, but most people I know don’t read this blog because they don’t know about it). I may very well keep it to myself, because I don’t feel like dealing with all the awwww’s and oh’s, the oh poor thing, et cetera. Bloody hell, that’s one tiresome attitude.

I am, beyond recognition, amazed over my own reaction. To me, this is a fully bodily issue. There’s no shame, no guilt, no nothing related to it. There are no broken relationships behind this, nor any that can be affected by it. I haven’t done anything wrong to cause this, it’s not my fault – it just is. It is what it is, and it can be helped. And I feel like there are boundaries between ME and this tumour – the tumour is not ME.

So what’s to be afraid of?

Ok, so I’m scared of the surgery itself. Mostly of the anesthetic – I’m terrified of the idea of a mask over my face (I have good reasons for that). But that is an issue so small under the circumstances, it’s almost ridiculous.

But mainly, I am totally fine with this. Completely, totally fine. And trust me when I tell you – my own chin is on the ground, which is quite well done considering I live on the third floor.

And the best part of it all is – I am not my mother. I do not feel sorry for myself. I do not expect special treatment, people to feel sorry for me or oversympathize with me.

And I don’t feel like I have cancer. I feel like I have a tumour that’s going to be removed, and that’s that.

 

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Eye C : recovery from childhood trauma (narcissistic abuse by a parent)

I grew up with a covert narcissistic mother and a father who overcompensated in a rigid manner.

 

My mother died back in 2001 and I have spent too many years being a survivor. This is where it’s time to recover and be the best version of myself that I can be.

 

It’s important to me to let this be a space where we are creative and positive in our ways to recover from the narcissistic abuse we’ve been subjected to in our childhood. It’s no easy task, but I’ll be damned if I can’t do it.

 

Until then.

 

With love.
Malinka P.