Dates

As most of you know I’m rubbish at dates. Yes I could be referring to dates with the opposite sex but what I actually mean is dates on a calendar – thanks to all those of you who immediately worried about my continued single status 😉

I’ve always had to rely on a calender or diary. In the good old days I’d never survive without a diary in my handbag in which to jot down where and when I had to be somewhere or do something. Latterly it was via Outlook at my place of work and then smartphones or iPhone. If I didn’t put the entry into the diary, it would be forgotten moments later and I’d neglect to turn up or be running late as I’d only just remembered. Once a date had passed I’d have very little recollection of what day of the week we met, let alone a date or year. Yes, sometimes this may have been alcohol induced amnesia but more often just because once it’s done, it’s done.

Those of you for whom I should remember birthdays will know how utterly rubbish I am at that too – unless it’s in my diary or you remind me. There are children (neices, nephews or just my ‘extra’ children) who have ‘late’ or ‘early’ birthday presents and know that Auntie Anna extends birthdays so that she’s never actually late!

What’s been strange about this journey with cancer is that I remember all the dates. Not only do I remember them at the time, I know when they’re coming up, where I was, what was said, what time the appointment was and how I felt. Not because I have re-read this but just because all of a sudden these dates are significant. I find it eerie that the date of my doctors appointment when I was referred for scans is etched deeper than the year I went to college, started work or moved into my first flat. The date that I found the lump smacked me in the face a year on, out of nowhere. The date I was told I had cancer hurts and I’m sure the date that I was told that the cancer was in fact a malignant rare cancer known as Phyllodes will no doubt be an ‘odd’ day too.

For someone who truly has difficulty remembering her own birthday, I find it astonishing that every aspect of my cancer journey is etched deeply into my ‘internal’ calendar. Will I ever be able to live these dates without remembering?

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