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My Left Boob: The Diary of Ann-Being-Frank

by Ann Fitzpatrick

241 pages; quality trade paperback (softcover); catalogue #05-1801; ISBN 1-4120-6890-8; US$22.00, C$25.00, EUR18.00, £12.50

Getting Cancer – Traumatic
Losing a Breast – Mind-blowing
Chemo Treatment – Bloodcurdling
Being ignored and avoided because cancer is 'uncomfortable' to talk about – Scandalous!

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About the Book      About the Author      Excerpts      Catalogue Information

About the Book

For as long as I can remember, when inside my head got overcrowded and troubles were getting me down, I would take pen to paper and let all those thoughts just spill out. My writing would act as a release valve and keep my head from exploding. It must have saved me a fortune in psychiatrist fees. Seeing my thoughts in black and white would enable me to sift through them and rationally solve my problems. My biggest trouble to date, being diagnosed with breast cancer, prompted me to sit once more and let the floodgates open. This, I knew, was going to take more than just a few pages so I decided to keep a diary. It proved to be invaluably therapeutic for me. As a ‘domestic technician’ I don’t have any medical credentials and neither do I have any journalistic skills; so what you are about to read is written in ordinary everyday language. It tells of not only my journey from diagnosis to surgery, the subsequent chemo and radiotherapy treatments but also of what I can only describe as a shocking discovery that I made living life as a cancer patient. I feel that people need to be educated more on how their actions or should I say lack of them, when coming in contact with a cancer patient, can be so detrimental to the mental well being of that person. Hopefully after reading this diary you will have gained some insight into the mind of a cancer patient without being blinded by all the usual jargon and together we can help to eliminate that awful stigma attached to a cancer diagnosis.

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About the Author

Ann is 43 years old and prefers the term "domestic technician" to "housewife".

According to Ann her best achievements to date are:

Her 21-year marriage to Tom (His Lordship)

Her three beautiful daughters, Amy, Jane and Shelley

And of course, most recently, prevailing in her battle against breast cancer.

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Excerpts

29th August
……. I’m in the shower getting ready to go out for dinner. His Lordship (a term of endearment I have always used for my hubby) is standing at the mirror shaving and I’m washing my hair. He’s staring at me with a puzzled look on his face but knowing him and his smart arse comments there is no way I’m going to ask what he’s thinking. “Did you know you’ve got a dinge in your diddy (breast)” he asks me. “Feck off”, I said, thinking he’s having a go at me about my weight……

3rd September
…… I managed to control meself and next thing I knew the consultant was holding out his hand introducing himself to me and His Lordship and then telling me to drop the J cloth so he could have a look at the culprit and then sat down next to me and stared me straight in the face (very much eye to eye contact) and said ‘well its cancerous BUT the news is not all bad, its only 1.2 centimetres or approx a half inch and we’re catching it early’ (whoop dee fookin doo!)…….

29th September
…… I had put on one of those slinky little t-shirts you know those ones with the shoestring straps, and because it was so cold me nipples were erect but the sight of them in the mirror was comical. Gravity may have taken over in recent years but at least me nipples were still pointing forwards, well they were prior to the lumpectomy! The sight that met me in the mirror was me right nipple centred and facing forward and me left one off to the left and pointing at me toes. Jaysus I burst out laughing. It was the first time I’d noticed how the op had changed me boob. I just stared and said out loud that “it’s a good job you’re disappearing tomorrow”.

2nd October
…… Once the tattoo had been mentioned my natural curiosity had gotten the better of me and as soon as Dr Paul had taken off the dressing and satisfied himself that all was ok with the wound, instead of me slinking off on my own I grabbed Tom’s wrist and dragged him down to the loo so that I could have a look and see what they had actually done with this tattoo of mine. My fingers flew down along those buttons. When they were open I looked down and saw a small version of the tattoo I’d been looking at for the past two years. Within a couple of seconds it dawned on me that I was also looking at a wound and then that I was looking at the site where a couple of days ago I’d had a boob. Strange though, I wasn’t shocked and horrified……

31st January
……It’s strange how a few months’ changes your perception of yourself isn’t it? I mean if you go back to the start of this diary I was adamant I couldn’t live without me boob and now, well it’s just a thing of the past. I suppose its all down to priorities. I had a pair of boobs. To me they were pretty and made me feel very feminine and gave me the confidence to be the woman I was. Then all of a sudden one of me assets turned into a liability. Keeping it could have meant a death sentence (that’s a bit dramatic I suppose, but left undetected, well we won’t go there) the next thing you know I’m content with only one boob and guess what, I’m still a woman…….

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Catalogue Information

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