Fighting is harder when you’re winning

Back in March I had my half year check up. I’m still cancer free and while I’m not liking the side effects of the meds I’m on, I’m taking those pills and living with them.

And living is what we’re doing. We haven’t even hit the middle of the year yet and Mr.C and I have already been on three holidays!

And we bought our dream house!!

It’s been non stop go go go and I hate to say it, but I want it to stop.

I’m tired.

All the time.

And I don’t mean physically, although there is that too.

I don’t know how to explain how beating breast cancer feels harder when you’re winning. It seems like it should get easier, right?

I mean, it’s gone. I’m cancer free and I’m doing things I always dreamed of doing like standing on the top of a mountain watching the sun rise.

The above photo was taken on May 1 when Mr.C, myself, my brother Craig and his partner Kylie took a trip I’d been wanting to take for as long as I’ve known Machu Picchu existed.

It was supposed to be my 5 year victory trip but circumstances meant we went at the 3.5 year mark. And I’m okay with that.

What I’m not okay with is the emotional impact making this journey delivered.

I swear, I was prepared. I knew it would be a punch because it was supposed to my victory lap and I was taking it early, but man…

Most of Machu Picchu was seen through blurry eyes. I had to stop a lot. I had to remember to breath. (And no, it wasn’t due to the altitude.)

Outside of these post (the shit show of my life) I don’t talk about having cancer, and unlike the shirt I wore the day I stood on top of the world, I don’t advertise I’m a breast cancer survivor.

NO ONE FIGHTS CANCER ALONE

CELEBRATE – REMEMBER – FIGHT BACK

I wanted to wear this shirt because it’s a good reminder.

For me.

I’m a writer and I cannot describe the emotions that rolled through me as we took the bus up the mountain to reach Machu Picchu. Other than sheer terror because holy f*ck that bus ride is something else. I may have wanted to scream at the driver to slow down the whole way to the top but it was worth every nail-biting second of the trip to stand on Machu Picchu and watch the sun rise over the mountains surrounding it.

The whole trip I was an emotional wreck. There wasn’t one day where I didn’t tear up or actually cry. But I laughed too. This was the first time I’d done a big trip with my brother since we were little and it might have taken us thirty-odd years to make it happen but this was the perfect place to go together.

And I have to give a shout out to all the other people on our tour. I’m an introvert and don’t like being forced to socialize. I’ll do it, but I do better when to want to do it. And most of the time I don’t. But everyone on this tour made it impossible not to socialize. I even found a couple of coeliac buddies to bond with.

Nothing beats trolling the buffet table for gluten free food with a buddy. It was good not to feel alone in my dietary requirements.

A lot of my breast cancer journey has been on my own. Sure my family and friends have supported me and are there for me, like my t-shirt says, no one fights cancer alone, but this is my body trying to kill me, so at times it does feel like I’m alone in the middle of this uncertain future.

Cancer doesn’t just f*ck with your body, it f*cks with your head.

And the closer I get to the five year mark the more the emotional damage reveals itself.

And the harder it gets to fight.