The Cancer Bomb

Life B.C. (before cancer) was all about the kids, my life was as a mum and that was ok. Becoming a mum was its own challenge, so I wanted to do everything I could to make their life perfect. There wasn’t a me, I didn’t exist as a separate entity, just a mum and all that entails. Going through diagnosis, treatment, chemo, it was still pretty much all about the kids. The guilt I felt at detonating a cancer bomb in the middle of my family (yes, I blamed myself, my body, my cancer, my fault) was immense. How could I put them through this?

Life after cancer (A.C.) was filled with as many challenges as going through treatment, but this life changing, life threatening illness, gave me an awareness of my own mortality.

A sense that life was fragile and unpredictable and could not be taken for granted.

As certain as I was in my future B.C., I was now uncertain. Nothing made sense any more. Ordinary life lacked purpose. My role as a mum was not enough.

I wanted exceptional.

Amazing. Incredible. Awesome.

Meteor showers. Shooting stars.

Unicorns. Rainbows. Fairy dust.

I wanted to live my life in glorious Technicolor but felt that what I had was grey.


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