Confirmation of Consent: Not As Feminist As It Sounds

Yesterday my parents and I attended something referred to as a 'Confirmation of Consent' meeting with my absolute babe of a Nurse Specialist, Theresa. Sadly this wasn't some sort of disruptive feminist workshop, but a medical appointment about chemotherapy. The point of the session is to run through your cancer treatment plan, its side effects and risks, answer any questions you may have and then finally get your permission to start poisoning you for your own benefit.

Mental Health and My Cancer

My personal relationship with mental health conditions was the main factor in why I immediately sought (and continue to seek) information regarding mental health support for cancer patients. Not only was I worried about my own mental health, and the mental health of my loved ones, but on top of that I was wracked with guilt.

Hodgkin Lymphoma – My Symptoms

It's easy to look back and think 'why didn't I notice earlier?' (you know, before my cancer got to Stage 4), but the truth is that hindsight is 20/20 and when you're actually living through these symptoms they feel so unrelated and random.

A Kick In The Crutch

Annoyingly, I now have to use a crutch because they're worried that the cancer has weakened my hip/pelvis/leg on the right side enough that I could quite easily fracture something like my femur. I really detest crutches - they are gangly, awkward and make my hands hurt. But use them I must I suppose - it's probably less cumbersome than having a fractures femur. 

#MightBeCancer?

But what to do with my preliminary diagnosis? Do I turn to the internet with my as-yet-unconfirmed worries and risk making a drama out of nothing? Do I force my parents' hands into telling our wider family by making my fears public?

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