To say I'm very average I'm really having quite a shitty time at the moment

There are a couple of issues in my life, and one pivotal, ongoing happenstance that I've not told any friends about, but a) I don't think anyone has subscribed to this blog and b) it's happening now whether I want it to or not.

My mother has had breast cancer. She told me about this 2 days before my 21st birthday, and we cut short our annual Cornish holiday to have the confirmation of something the doctors were already 90% sure of. The continuing treatment and consequent recoveries have been somewhat of a roller coaster ride.

The lumpectomy made my mother quite ill, and turned her blue. I took a day off work, I don't know whether this was a mistake or not, being at home on my own not knowing what was going on was hellish. But I imagine that had a been off work that I would have still been upset, and unproductive. Someone might have even asked what was wrong and anyone who really knows me is aware that such a question really heralds the end of my composure full stop.
Either way I stayed at home. Cryoning. It's crying and ironing at the same time, I was quite pleased with the term.

So aside from being scared to fuck all day, she then had to tell immediate family in the evening, so some of them came over and selfish as it is, people are just a constant reminder and I hate them. It, sorry, I hate it.

Anyway, as the doctor's cheerfully told her "you don't have cancer any more" I thought we could expel a little of the breath we'd been holding for the past month and a half, even though further biopsy results got postponed.
Results which changed things again. "Could you fetch the surgery consent forms please?" that's how she found out she had to have a mastectomy. Cue further emotional breakdowns.

The mastectomy was a day case which my auntie came up from Cornwall to accompany my mum to. I can't complain too much- because for the most part I reckon the NHS must have been pretty superb- but for the surgeon who was meant to check on her before she could be released from hospital (because apparently mastectomies are day cases now...) went walkabout and so despite having her op first, she didn't get home until 8pm by which point I'd been alone for 12hours.

I won't lie, it's a strange and scary thing to have your mom come home minus one breast with a bottle of bloody biofluids tied round her waist with a dressing gown cord. A drain that would later disconnect and spurt blood all over the kitchen for me to deal with and clean up, such fun.

She is all healed up now though. And got told last week what further treatment she'd require.

As it happens it's the full works, of course it is. That's chemotherapy, radiotherapy and hormone replacement therapy in case you were curious. And I'm still petrified in almost the purest sense of the word, sometimes I'm so fearful about what the future entails for the three of us that I can't move, I can't breathe, I can't eat & I can't sleep.

Both my boyfriend's mother, and my best friend's mother (who were born on the same day now I think about it) died of cancer when they were just a little older than I was when my dad died. So I can't talk to them about it, because they don't need reminding of cancer and it's penetrating effects any more than I do.

I think, apart from the fact that my mum is going through this awful experience that we all know is going to make her unwell, is that my family seem to think that for some reason I'm missing out on understanding this. How many times could you be told "She's going to be really very poorly" "You'll have to take care of her, she's going to be quite ill" "You know how sick this will make your mum, don't you?" without ceasing to want to speak to anyone about it?

So as it continues I feel more, not less isolated. My mum's going through this and I'm sat feeling sorry for myself, writing about it online. I sicken myself.