Well, we're back on the roller coaster. Things had been quiet for a while. Almost 10 years with no recurrence of breast cancer #1, almost 5 years with no sign of the return of the leiomyosarcoma, getting on for three years since breast cancer #2. A scan showed up a tiny speck on a lung - "probably scarring from the surgery" - another scan showed it still there, maybe a milimetre larger - "so slow growing it's not really worth worrying about - yet" - the next showed it still there, and a little something in the liver ... "probably haemangioma, we'll keep an eye on it" ... and August's scan showed, no, it wasn't just haemangioma, it's cancerous, and it has a friend.
On the upside, 10 years on from the first time, I'm still here. I'm in the hands of one of the best cancer teams in the country. My family are wonderful. There are options, and if the first line options don't work, there are drug trials.
On the downside, for the first time in this whole sorry saga, I find myself thinking "why me?". It's never crossed my mind before. It's not like me to be feeling sorry for myself. Stephen and I have just celebrated our 11th wedding anniversary (ironically, he was the one in hospital for it this time - suffering with kidney stones) - I think we'd convinced ourselves that we were out of the woods and we could finally get on with our marriage without cancer centre stage.
So. One day at a time. The next planned hospital landmarks are an MRI in November to check on what's happening, a consultation in December, to plan ahead, and if need be, a biopsy in January. Before that we need to get Stephen through his surgery (early October). Before that I need to kick this low mood into touch. Time for some serious painting, I think.