(Original title – The Boy Who Lived)

So this will come as a shock to some of you – I have a mutant tit. Righty decided it wasn’t happy with its bigger mate Lefty having all the glory, so decided to get its grow on, and it figured “Hey, what’s the best way I can fuck with this bitch’s life plans? Let’s grow cancer!”

The only apology I will offer for the next twelve months is this: I’m sorry you had to find out this way, and I’m sorry that I have to ask you not to message me with your offers of support.

Over the past 30 days since my symptoms appeared, I have been overwhelmed by the messages of offers to help and support from the few that I have told. I’m struggling to manage sending the same information again and again, and I will be using this group to post updates and try to coordinate offers of support. I know you’re going to be sad and shocked and want to offer to help. I know this, and I love you for this, but I can’t handle it coming directly to me anymore.

So what I need from you all now is:

• Please don’t message me to offer support. If you want to help, please offer through here, and be specific about what you can help with. As I get more ill, I will be asking specific people to help coordinate what I might need people to do;
• Please don’t ask me directly for updates. I will be keeping only a very small group of select family members informed on the day-to-day stuff unless I have the energy to post here (big stuff will be posted here regardless);
• Time to process everything that’s happening. It’s only been 30 days today since symptoms appeared, and it’s been a whirlwind of appointments, blood tests, cannulas, scans, fasting, headaches, pain, and cancer. I am doing okay with it mentally (I knew in my gut it was cancer 29 days ago), but I haven’t had a full day free of appointments in weeks;
• Please do not call me in the middle of the day (between 11am and 3pm) – nap time is in there somewhere;
• It’s okay to leave this group if you can’t handle it;
• Please keep me in the loop about what’s going on with you. I want to hear about your lives, including your sads. We’re still friends, and whilst my life is shit right now, I still want to hear about yours;

AND MOST IMPORTANTLY

• Really, really bad cancer memes and jokes. Seriously. If you can’t help me laugh through this, then we’ll talk after I finish treatment because basically, you’re no good to me through this. If my granddad can offer to leave his nipples to me in his Will, you can send me something to make me smile.

I can’t respond to messages in a timely manner anymore. I will get back to you, but give me some time.

In case you can’t tell, I am being super blunt about what this is, and what my life is going to be like. If you don’t like the way I do things, well, I don’t like having cancer.

I know you guys are not the type to do this, but I do need to say it very bluntly:

DO NOT SUGGEST TREATMENTS, TRIALS, DIETARY ADVICE, POST PUBLIC MESSAGES OF SUPPORT FOR ME, OR DISREGARD MY EXPRESS WISHES REGARDING MY SHITHOUSE “JOURNEY” THROUGH TREATMENT.

I don’t care who you are, you will be dead to me. This is my cancer, I am alone in this, nobody else is having the same journey. I don’t want to hear horror stories, or what was helpful for someone else, or anything of that nature. Nobody but me is having my experience. I will follow the advice of my medical team, and them only.

If you’re not sure it’s helpful, don’t say it.

*ahem*

I love you all, I’m not going to die, and I’m okay for now.