Knock knock. You’re not coming in

Ever get those horrible reoccurring dreams that don’t quite make sense?

I get them all the time

This was the dream, but it was actually happening

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knock knock

I could see the silhouette of a man in uniform.

niceties (I was not listening - this is my dream)

Can I come in?

No (exactly like every dream)

Attempts to justify the need to come in (again I didn’t hear what he was saying)

Someone has died, haven’t they?

Yes (again attempts to encourage me to let him in the house ignored - I don’t change my mind. That’s a lie, I do - but only when I want to)

My dad or my sister. My dad is dead isn’t he?

I’m really sorry to tell you this but he was found dead this morning by your dad’s (looks at pad) exgirlfriend X)

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I remember feeling like cold air was really slowly infusing with my body, running through from the top of my head all the way down infusing every cell with cool, peace, calm and frozen.

Everything had stopped. I could hear electricity, but that’s it, nothing else.

Electricity is really quite loud when you hear it.

I was frozen for a time. No clue.

Then my body rebooted.

Time unpaused.

Feeling in my legs left much quicker than the cool air had gone in, both legs went, like those wooden donkey toys you get where you press the button and they collapse.

As I was falling to the floor I realised my husband was holding me. I felt warmth.

The noise came back, loud, too much and all at once. People were saying words at me. Words I know, but could not understand. I didn’t understand anything.

My World was not slow. Everything else had speeded up.

Everything was on distorted time and volume.

I was just watching. Watching everyone and experiencing me, me responding and answering questions perfectly.

Yaye, proud of auto-ME. I did good.

Thank you brain for all those millions traumatic thoughts and scenarios you had me play out and respond to.

This situation was nothing compared to those!!!

Do you have any idea who you are dealing with?

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My boobs are party boobs

I had a double mastectomy in 2017. After mum was diagnosed with Ovarian Cancer, she had the option (seriously!!) of finding out if she carried the deadly BRCA gene that would mean she had a 50% chance of passing it on to her children.

Without knowing that we were carriers we would have a concerningly high risk on developing a bunch of cancers.

But luckily my mum did opt to find out, even though she was told it was not likely based on her family history.

Lots and early cancer deaths, but not the common BRCA ones.

Ovarian Cancer is known as the silent killer. The cancer had probably spread before it was treatable or even discovered.

https://news.cancerresearchuk.org/2008/11/21/ovarian-cancer-spotting-the-silent-killer/

When finding out she was BRCA 2, I went to get tested. Positive.

BRCA 2 mutation means much higher risk of getting breast, ovarian, pancreatic and prostrate cancers. Plus a load more.

https://www.google.com/search?q=brca+2+gene+mutation&ie=UTF-8&oe=UTF-8&hl=en-gb&client=safari

They told me not worry if I’ve passed it on to my baby daughter, hopefully by then she could take a pill and all be ok. A lovely hope. I wish for that to be true.

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Not for me though. I was advised that I would need both breasts removed as soon as I’d finished having children, and a hysterectomy when I was 35-40 years old.

These two operations would result in my risk being lower that the general population.

Okies.

I had a double mastectomy in January 2017, three years after my mum had died.

They first inserted the implants six months earlier, to give my body time to bond with the new boobs. I called that super boob summer. My normal summer dresses were ‘not very family friendly’ my lovely friend joked.

My pre appointment resulted in the person getting cross and said that I wasn’t taking the situation as serious as it was, and I was too blasé. I informed her that I had watched my beautiful mum being destroyed by cancer constantly fighting to survive just one more day. If I was being given an opportunity for a better chance then of course it’s a yes. She gave me a reassuring smile and signed the form.

My mum had been given three months to live, just before my wedding, and survived just shy of five years.

My mum was the most incredibly positive, brilliantly funny, super smart ray of sunshine who was just a joy to be around. She was, and always will be, my strength and inspiration. 🌿✨💞✨🌿

Surgery date was nearing so I decided to have a ‘bye bye boobie’ tapas meal with a group of lovely friends. The following day I was sent a video of my lovely friend’s daughter - her teddy was also having a bye bye boobie party. 🥳 🥰

Surgery went well and apart from walking down the corridor with my drip - unknowingly with my hospital gown tucked into my knickers. Luckily I was saved by my kind neighbour who coincidentally worked on the ward. 💞

Apart the most ‘beautiful’ bruises you could ever imagine (every shade of black-purple-blue) surgery went well.

A few weeks later and it was a good friends wedding in Ireland.

That’s when I discovered my awesome party trick.

If you shine a torch on to an implant boob. It lights up.

Not just a little bit- more like ‘you would actually stop traffic’ bright.

After finding a dark cupboard and torch, I had lots of people, including the groom’s mother and family, popping to see the magnificent glow!

Is this boob trick common knowledge?

Please let me know if you have implants, and if you have ever tried it!

Shine a torch to the side of your implant and take a photo.

It’s insane.

Shine brightly beautiful people

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Life is good

It is grotty and horrible outside, and I can’t fit in to any of my clothes - but life is great.

Two packages arrived from the postman;

1) 20g of WPT - Wedding Pop Triangle strain - Medical Cannabis “Flower” previously known as Weed

it has incredibly good reviews (I check on reddit and medbud) 24% THC and has tiny colours in the flower.

Lovely stuff.

Wedding Pop Triangle Strain - Medical Flower

2) my scrapey filler) - the fun of filling up 40 dosing capsules every week is becoming tedious - although quite like the whole ‘you’re an adult, with a professional career, weighing 'flower’ in your pyjamas using drug dealer scales

What a treat, 8 capsules done in the same time as 1.

Review 9/10 - it is very very good!!

And surrounded by positively lovely things, Mighty+, Glug glug jug and my new gift to myself my seven chakra crystal tree of life

My Almond Tree

My mum (Nangie) died in February 2014, whilst ‘What a wonderful World’ by Louis Armstrong, was playing softly in the background - this had been mum’s request that she had made days before.

In August I had my baby girl, mum had seen her baby photo in the hospice - baby A was waving!

I know there are many things I need to piece together from not being able to make ‘The year of my birth’ photo book like I did for her older siblings. Actually I still haven’t. I will.

The first Mother’s Day.

I felt a very strong injustice that just because my mum had died, she was then left out.

So I decided I would, every year, buy my mum a gift for Mother’s Day.

First gift was a beautiful almond tree. I thought I was clever asking one of the staff to carry it to the till for me. Perfect.

“Would you like me to carry it to your car now?” Crap.

Luckily, after manoeuvring the interior of my car it fitted in. Just.

Every time I am in my garden and see this beautiful tree, it makes me smile and think of mum. My whole garden is now pretty full of gifts I have bought for my mum and dad. Plants, trees, benches, chickens…but unfortunately not a kitchen aid. My husband insisted that my mum had spoken to him and said no to the ‘mineral water’ kitchen aid. https://amzn.to/4mDRvry