November now. Really aten't ded

[nym_wibbly]

 It's getting embarrassing that I keep having to remind myself to say something here just so that people know I aten't ded.

For a while there I nearly got a life, spending my time doing Non Fandom Things. Crafting for charity, working on my own family history and on transcribing records. I think it's the longest I've ever spent without a fanfic going on in my head - without at least percolating words in the background, playing with voices, even if I'm unable to write. Refreshing, sorta, and a good mental reset to get perspective on my writing, but scary. I don't want that to be the new normal. I like that fandom and fanfic defines such a big part of me. I had to fight for it when I was a minor, and fight to hang on to it when Real Life bit down as an adult. I'd hate to just let it drift away out of neglect or distractedness.

So, I'm posting because someone reached out to an old email addy, trying to ask my family if they could repost my Harry Potter fanfic BECAUSE THEY'D HEARD I DIED OF BREAST CANCER.

How does chinese whispers even work on t'interweb? In case anyone's reading who didn't get the original whispers:

• I had a double mastectomy both as a preventative measure, and because my huge tits were torture to carry about.
• There is major breast cancer in my family. I carry the BRCA nasty-gene but I have never been diagnosed with cancer.
• Had a lump scare once, early on in writing A Bed of Thorns. 2013-ish? That pretty much started me down the road to mastectomy. Didn't want more scares, didn't want to be facing surgeries in my declining years as my mother has.
• I discovered that, contrary to what I'd previously believed, surgery to reduce or remove my painful breasts - for no reason other than the pain - was a real option and could be funded by the NHS. It was also an option due to my family risk, so I started down the long, red-tape strewn road to getting approved for surgery. The hardest part was convincing the surgeon that I didn't want a reconstruction afterwards.
• Having visited way too many people on breast surgical wards, I've seen how much more the women having reductions or reconstructions suffer after surgery compared to simple mastectomy patients. My boobs weren't important enough to me to go through the pain of making them smaller or rebuilding them.
• Surgery was a drag, recovery was uncomfortable but steady. I had no complications and I'm all healed up now. I've reached the point where I don't notice or think about it any more. No regrets at all - I'm just grateful that the NHS funded the procedure because I could never have afforded to buy it privately.

So. Alive, flat, and relieved. Totally not pushing up daisies.

Comments

[misbegotten]

So glad that you're alive. ;)

[nym_wibbly]

Thanks! Me too!