Continuing with the Ripley theme then, I’m facing” it” again on Thursday.  I’ll turn up at the Royal Free, sit on various chairs for hours and then they’ll put me under and when I wake up the secondary tumour on the left groin lymph node will have been removed and they’ll have checked the primary – don’t ask how.  I’ll be in pain for a while.  I’ll look and see a scar/hole where my lymph node used to be. My bottom will hurt.  The painkillers will give me constipation.  It won’t be pleasant.

I’m not scared about the operation, it’s fairly standard stuff.  What I AM scared about is going back.  It’s one thing popping in for a quick consultation in your best dress, it’s another returning to the place of battle and giving up consciousness for a while when somebody else takes over your recovery, no matter for a short length of time.

There are always reminders.  Like my darling Ripley I started this journey with thick brown curly hair.  I used to strut out of the hairdressers tossing my locks proudly.  When the lovely David showed me my hair in a mirror I used to say “yep, that’s great” without thinking about it.  I went to see him last week and bless him he tried his very best with this thin, frizzy, different lengths of a mess of hair on my head.  I tried to smile but I felt like crying.  I know! Me! Notquiteripley!

So, I’ll be ok.  Remember Aliens? He said “That’s the plan, you have my word on it.”  She said, “Alright, I’m in.”