4. Telling

I have a date. At this point I have to tell my parents and son. I dread telling my mum, my sister having died five years previously, I don't want her to have to deal with this. I massage the consultant's words, "I have cancer, but the operation should clear it. We've caught it early". My parents sound shocked, my son looks non-plussed, "Cancer is deadly isn't it?". "It can be, but in this case it's not", I say firmly. He seems reassured and proceeds to show me his latest karate move.

I tell my client at work, now that I can be more precise about the time I will need off.  Telling other people suddenly makes it all feel very real and the butterflies in my stomach are flapping wildly again and my hands are shaking each time I have to tell another person. 

My breast care nurse, Jan, calls. She manages to balance being matter of fact and practical with warmth and understanding - that must only come after many years experience of dealing with patients. She asks what I have told my son - I describe the words I used and she reassures me that these were spot on. I feel relieved; my mum had queried whether I should have mentioned the C word and Jan's reassurance is important.