Page 120 - She's One Crazy Lady!

the children and staff, my phone was constantly ringing, and it was parents wanting to know, not just how I was, but what was happening and offering to help in any way they could. It was humbling. They wanted to know everything, and I sensed they were scared. They asked a lot of questions.
“How did you feel when you were diagnosed?” “How were you told you had breast cancer?” “What happened when you saw your consultant?” “Is it curable?”
“How would I know what to do if I found a lump?”
Their Headteacher-to-be had breast cancer. Breast cancer wasn’t talked about, but their children had gone home after we had talked about it. I wondered what conversations took place in their homes. I didn’t know it at the time, but it was then that the seed of the need to help and support others was firmly sown. As their Headteacher, I felt this was something I had to do; they were looking to me for information and, indirectly, for support, for it was revealed many had had their own scares and diagnoses of breast cancer personally, in their family and in the wider community. I felt it was my duty. OK, it was me who was going to have to go through treatment, but they were there with me, 100% and I had to be there for them; to involve them and share my story, whilst allowing them to talk about their worries.
Later that day, feeling very tired, but positive and uplifted by the children’s reactions, I called in to have a long chat with Dave & Dusty who were, like me, outwardly confident everything would turn out fine in the end. They said they were behind me all the way and told me to ‘go with it’. At home, Marilyn called in to see me and, for the first time, we asked the question as to ‘why’ for there was no history of breast cancer in the family. I may have been a little overweight, but I didn’t drink neither did I smoke. Neither of us knew anyone close to us with breast cancer. I suggested that my distressing phase in edcuation could be to blame – and, of course, losing Tigger just a few months earlier. Stress? Or just sheer bad luck.
Mum’s philosophy was that there is a cancer cell in all of us that takes just one thing to start the cell breaking up and multiplying – an illness, a shock to the system, a low immune system and, yes, stress. As the years went by, I was to discover that many, many patients could point a finger to a very stressful time/experience in their lives prior to their diagnosis.
“They’ve got it wrong Glennis,” exclaimed Marilyn, “you can’t have breast cancer. You’ll show them. You’ll get through this, and you’ll be back to school in next to no time.” I wondered how Marilyn really felt. How does a best friend feel when the other has been diagnosed with cancer? Sadly, I was to find this out with her in the following years. As she stood on the doorstep to say goodbye, she suddenly reached up and kissed me on the cheek.
“That’s the only one you’ll ever get from me!” We burst out laughing – albeit a nervous laugh, it was a laugh we both needed. Already I knew
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