I look well

I look well and I live with ongoing pain, and numbness and peeling of the skin of my hands and feet.

I look well and I live with overwhelming fatigue that defines what I can do each day no matter how much I rest or exercise.

I look well and I live with nausea, weight gain, and unpredictable diarrhoea.

I look well and I live with negotiating the side effects of the handful of tablets I take every day.

I look well and I live with constant fear about my next results, or about a new symptom.

I look well and my partner and family live with the same fear of my next results.

I look well and I live with the fear that I have become a burden.

I look well and I live with playing the part of being ok, strong and positive when I don't feel it.

I look well and I live with the inability to achieve my plan for long term financial security as my working life was cut short.

I look well and I live with financial distress as I have paid so much in out-of-pocket costs for treatments that my savings are depleted.

I look well and I live with the knowledge that it is unlikely that I will live long enough to see my grandchildren grow up and become adults. I may not even see them become teenagers.

I look well and I live with people asking if I have finished treatment. They don't understand that there is no finish to my treatment, without it I will die.

I look well and I live with having to explain to people what metastatic breast cancer actually means.

I look well and I have lived with this for 8 years, 8 years of never being quite able to live my life as I would choose.

I look well, and I live with knowing my disease is incurable.

I look well and I will die before my time - I will probably still look well then!

Jill (2023)