I’ve been wanting to write about this for months, but found that I just was not ready to write absolutely everything. It gets too much, but I thought perhaps maybe a paragraph or 2 for now.
21st January 2021 I looked at myself in the mirror and realised that my right breast looked different. I had been feeling “off” and very cloudy in the mind, and so it took me a week for it to click that “well sh*t April, go to the Dr!” After 1 very nerve-wracking week of silently waiting, I saw a random GP who without even looking at me referred me for a mammogram, ultrasound and biopsy up at Toowoomba. 1 day after that eventful day at Qld X-ray, my usual GP rings me for my phone appointment at school pick up and asks me to come into town to see her in person to discuss the results. I sat down in her office and she looked at me and said “I think you’ve figured it out by now that it is cancer.”
I am 31 years old. 31. With bloody Breast Cancer.
Now officially a #pinksister. It’s a sh*tty group to be in. But it is full of the most magnificent, bad-ass, gorgeous group of goddesses one can imagine, and I love each and every one of them. I don’t know where I would be without my pinksisters.