The Cancer Clinic

Today was the day of my check-up at the cancer clinic - two years after I was diagnosed with breast cancer.

When I was drinking, if I was scared about something I would - obviously - use booze to dampen down any trepidation.

Since I quit, I've learned all sorts of way more effective strategies for dealing with fear.

So today, I dressed in bright red - the colour of battle, the shade that says "f**k you, cancer, don't even think about it."

Then, as I did back in the early days when I was facing down the wine witch, I used visualisation.

I imagined that I was Daenerys Targaryen, Mother of Dragons, preparing for battle with my army of Unsullied.

I pictured myself as Wonder Woman, with her fabulous metallic corsetry and magic bracelets.

I strutted out of the house and, although I actually took the London Underground (District Line), pictured myself on the back of a dragon, bearing down on the Breast Unit.

I went in for my mammogram.

I did not feel at all sorry for my left boob, as they squished it flat as a pancake into the mammogram machine.

You deserve that for trying to kill me, Lefty, I thought.

(Is it normal to harbour resentment for one of your own body parts? I suspect not...)

Then I had to sit, for quite a long time, in the waiting room, for the consultant to give me the verdict.

Gradually, as the clock ticked on, my dragons flew away, followed by the feckless Unsullied. My magic bracelets reverted to plain metal, and I was left a rather terrified ex-lush housewife.

Finally, I was called in, to be told that ALL WAS WELL.

I was reminded of a phenomenal video of Will Smith talking about fear. He says: "On the other side of maximum fear are all the best things in life."

The Will Smith video is going up on the SoberMummy Facebook Page today - if you're ever afraid of anything (and who isn't?) then do watch it.

(Click here to go to the SoberMummy Facebook page, 'like' the page to stay updated).

Thank you all, so much, for all your thoughts and good wishes - they made all the difference in the world.

Love SM x

Are You Scared?

One of the most difficult aspects of getting sober is learning to deal with fear.

Fear can prevent us from even getting off the starting blocks. I get lots of e-mails from people saying something along the lines of "I really want to quit drinking. I know I have to quit drinking. But I'm scared. Scared of failing, scared that I'll be miserable for ever, scared of living life without my favourite prop..."

That first hurdle is so daunting that, for many people, they can only scale it once they've reached 'rock bottom' (which is a place none of us want to get to).

Once we've overcome that initial fear we then have to learn how to cope with on-going fears and anxieties without our favourite method of numbing the edges, and that's really hard. We're totally out of practice at doing fear (or any emotion, actually), in the raw.

If any of this is ringing any bells with you, then check out this great YouTube clip of Will Smith talking about overcoming fear (click here).

Will concludes with the words on the other side of your maximum fear are all the best things in life.

And you know what? He's right!

Think back to some of your best days. Your finest moments. Maybe your wedding day? The day your first child was born? The time you won that huge contract, launched a new business or landed a book deal. The day you climbed a mountain, jumped out of a plane or ran a marathon.

What preceded those days? Fear, right? Or, at least, anxiety.

If you'd sidestepped that fear, you never would have experienced the brilliance of the other side.

Well, that's all very well, but even when you focus on the end goal, even when you know this is something you have to get through, it still doesn't mean it's easy, does it?

So, try this advice from the latest book by the brilliant Amy Cuddy:

Amy says that the secret to not only dealing with anxiety, but making it work in your favour is to reframe it in your mind as excitement.

In a recent study by Alison Brooks, when people were given a challenge of singing, speaking or doing a maths challenge in public, those who took a moment to reframe their anxiety as excitement outperformed all the others.

And, funnily enough, fear and excitement feel very similar, don't you think? There's that butterfly in the stomach sensation or, in my case, the nest of squirming vipers.

I've been trying this out. Every time I feel scared, I make myself think This is so exciting. There is something amazing on the other side of this hurdle. It's going to be fabulous.

It really works.

So, if you're still at that I know I need to quit but I'm really scared stage, then try thinking this instead: I'm so excited about starting on this challenge, because life on the other side of it is going to be INCREDIBLE!

And it will be....

Love SM x

Mortality

The thing about all this relaxation, and having so much time on your hands, is that you inevitably start thinking.

In my case, I keep being sideswiped by fear of mortality.

This isn't a bad thing - I guess I have to deal with the whole issue eventually, so I might as well start now.

You see, the thing about hormone positive breast cancer is that it can come back. And you can't ever feel safe, because it can lie dormant for ten, fifteen, even twenty years, and then rear its ugly head again.

And the problem is, it can crop up anywhere, but most often in your bones, liver or brain. And when it does, it's incurable. Terminal. End of the line.

(And it's a horrible way to die. Not that slipping away gently in your sleep, wearing your most glamorous nightie and full make up, that we all wish for.)

They can keep it at bay with chemotherapy, but usually not for more than a year or two.

When I'm busy I manage not to dwell on it much, but the fear is always lurking somewhere.

So, here's how I try to think about it:

You know how they say that the definition of madness is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result?

Well, I figure that if you get cancer it's often a sign that you were doing something wrong. (Sometimes, I guess, it's just bad luck). And if you carry on living life exactly the same way, it's much more likely to come back.

When my tumour started growing I was filling my body with toxins every single day. The link between alcohol and cancer, particularly breast cancer, is becoming increasingly clear. One day it'll be the new tobacco, and there'll be health warnings on every bottle of wine.

Now I drink water, green tea and smoothies. (And Becks Blue, obviously). I've made not just a tiny adjustment to my lifestyle, but a whopping great U-turn.

The other thing I try to remember is that any of us could be dead in ten, fifteen, twenty years. There are no guarantees. Nothing is certain.

And the flipside of the fear of dying is the joy of living.

When you realise that life might be short it makes you properly appreciate every single day, and not want to squander a second of it.

So, if you're still prevaricating about quitting alcohol and starting to properly live your life, just get on and do it now. Carpe bloody diem. Don't waste any more precious time.

Love SM x

Days 30-100

Tomorrow is the end of January.

This means that many of you will be on or around day 30. Perhaps you only intended to quit for one month, and you're already gearing up for a humdinger of a party?

DON'T DO IT!

30 days is awesome work, but you've only just scratched the surface of all the benefits you get from staying sober. This is not it. You have to keep going....

I thought you might like a guide to the next phase: Days 30-100, and I'm hoping that my readers who've been through it already will chip in with their wisdom in the comments section below. So, here goes:

Days 30-100

First off, HUGE CONGRATULATIONS! You've done the first month, and it's by far the most physically gruelling.

By now, I hope, you're sleeping like a baby, and your energy levels are improving. Maybe, now there are no hangovers, you're learning to love mornings again?

You probably haven't lost much weight yet (sugar cravings, anyone?), but I bet you LOOK different. Bright eyed, dewy skinned, less puffy.

Maybe the cravings are getting a bit better too - probably just as powerful, but less frequent. Once a day, rather than all day.

By now you're detoxed. Your liver is doing high fives and thanking you profusely. You are all sparkly and clean.

But now, I'm afraid, the hard work begins.....

Because days 30-100 are all about introspection. Endless naval gazing. The asking of all those big questions like how did I end up in this mess? Who am I (without alcohol)? Who was I (before alcohol)? Where do I want to be? How the hell do I get there?

If, like me, you're British, then the idea of any form of self analysis is anathema. My response to any big LIFE questions was "Pass the bottle!"

It is horribly uncomfortable for all of us life-avoiders, but it's inevitable when you strip your comfort blankets away, and you'll come out the other side a stronger, better and more aware person.

(For more about how this all feels, from when I was going through it, click here)

The other big theme of days 30-100 is learning to deal with fear and anxiety.

Up to day 30, you're so far down in the trenches, and the cravings come so thick and fast, that it's difficult to see any pattern.

But now you'll start to see that there are some major triggers, and the biggies are fear and anxiety.

We get so used to dealing with these uncomfortable emotions by blotting them out that we forget how to cope with them. And if you spend long enough avoiding coping with fear, you find - eventually - that you've completely lost your courage.

Days 30-100 are about tackling fear and anxiety (and all the other nasty emotions like envy, self doubt, boredom, etc) without any props, but in doing so you will, slowly, slowly find your courage returning, and - with it - your self respect.

(For more on this, from my Day 77, click here)

So, once you've done all the introspection and all the dealing with bad stuff sober, you also have to cope with other people.

It's normal for the first month (especially if it's January) to hunker down and not go out much. And if people ask you about your 'not drinking' you can shrug off the question easily - you're detoxing/having a month off/Dry January etc.

But, eventually, you have to start socialising again.

This one takes a while. I still don't have quite the same level of anticipation about social events, but it's gradually coming back.

My advice, and it's controversial, for the early days is to fake it till you make it. The last thing you need when you're still feeling fragile is to have someone grilling you about why you can't have 'just one.'

So I suggest you lie (I'm driving/on antibiotics/detoxing) or fake (drink virgin cocktails, let them fill your wine glass and don't touch it) for a while.

I realise that this is not ideal, but the truth is society is really screwed up about alcohol, and we non drinkers are made to feel like the ones with the problem, not the addicts still quaffing away.

For more on how to cope with, and actually enjoy, partying sober read: Sober Mummy's Party Survival Guide.

Over the next sixty days, you'll find that you get fewer and fewer cravings, but when they do hit they're almost harder to deal with because they're from left field. You're not expecting them.

This phase really is a rollercoaster. You'll have wonderful, pink cloudy days of real euphoria, and some days of despair. That's perfectly normal.

It's known as Post Acute Withdrawal Syndrome (PAWS), and you can read more about it here.

It's all a bit like my favourite children's book: Going on a Lion Hunt:

You can't go over it, you can't go under it, you've got to go through it.

But, after all those ups and downs and insides and outsides you'll find yourself gradually shedding off all those ugly duckling feathers, and one day you'll catch your reflection in the pond and you'll think "Why, I'm a swan!"

By Day 100 it won't be so hard anymore. And you'll be braver, slimmer, nicer, a better parent. Your life will be easier, more fulfilled, and going somewhere.

So keep going, bird by bird, until you find your inner swan.

Love SM x

Fear of the Unknown

If you're in the early days of quitting drinking, or you've still not quite taken the plunge, then I bet you're haunted by fear of the unknown.

Since we usually start drinking in our teenage years, and many of us ended up drinking every single day, we literally cannot imagine what life is like without our faithful pal.

We 'enthusiastic drinkers' tend to have few - if any - sober friends (killjoys!) who we can use as role models.

The fears that we grapple with go something like this:

1. Will I lose all my friends?
2. Will I ever be able to socialise again?
3. Will I ever be happy?
4. How will I deal with anxiety and stress?
5. What does 'sober' feel like?

Luckily, the sobersphere is filled with the all the answers you need from those of us who've trodden the path before you. Check out www.soberistas.com, this blog and the blogs of my lovely friends like The Wine Bitch, Anne in Sobriety, God Walked into This Bar and My Time to Shine.

Then you'll find that once you've got rid of the unknown, you've also got rid of the fear.

(By the way, a quick summary of the answers is as follows: (1) Only the toxic ones (2) Yes! But you'll socialise in a different way - less shallow, more rewarding (3) More than you can remember ever having been before (4) Way better than you're doing right now! (5) Freedom and peace)

For those of you who've been following my journey since my diagnosis with breast cancer last week, for the last few days I've been paralysed by fear of the unknown.

I've been keeping it all together for the kids who are on half term (imagine trying to do that with a couple of bottles of vino thrown into the mix!), but I keep having to take the dog out for walks so that I can weep silently in parks.

Today I have a PET scan. This involves being injected with a radioactive liquid (like the ReadyBrek boy) and then scanned so they can see if the cancer has spread anywhere else. This stuff is so horrible that I'm not allowed to cuddle the kids when I get home.

I get the results tomorrow. If they say that there's no spread I will be overjoyed (who'd have thought a week ago that you could be thrilled with the idea of having just breast cancer?). If the news is bad I may well fall off the waggon, as I'm not sure how I can deal with more. Becks Blue may have finally met its match.

My operation is scheduled for Friday. The kids are being great. Their main questions are as follows:
#1 how wonky are your boobs going to be? #2 will there be loads of blood? #3 can we keep your lump in a jar?

Hope all well with you lovely people.

SM x

The Escape Hatch

I can't thank you all enough for all your messages and e-mails yesterday. They made me cry. A lot. (In a good way). It felt like a global bear hug from a group of amazing, strong, warm, and kind people, and I am completely overwhelmed.

I am so sorry that I have not yet replied to any of them. Please forgive me.

For decades I have used booze as an escape hatch, a 'beam me up, Scotty' whenever I needed a fast exit from a hostile planet.

And yesterday I really needed an escape hatch, or a teleport.

A few months, maybe only a few weeks, ago, I would never have imagined I could get over a major hurdle without alcohol. I would have accepted that, in this instance, needs must. I would have decided to put the 'not drinking thing' on hold, and come back to it later when I'm feeling stronger.

But not yesterday. You see, the last (nearly) eight months have made me realise that there really is one thing harder than dealing with a major trauma without alcohol, and that's trying to do it with alcohol.

My last big health scare was about twelve years ago. I still remember it vividly. I drank my way through it. I managed to not think about it during waking hours (thanks to the escape hatch), but I'd wake up at 3am with the night horrors, then spend four hours tormenting myself.

Because of the constant escaping, I put everything off for as long as possible, thereby spinning the whole process out and making it far more painful than it needed to be (see my post on Procrastination).

If I had downed two bottles of wine yesterday (which I could have done very easily), then on top of all the general angst I would have had a truly awful night, followed by a day of doing nothing but hating myself and hating my situation.

Instead I managed to get five hours sleep. When I was awake I was anxious, but logical. As soon as the 'phone lines opened I called my GP and booked the first appointment on Monday morning. Then I called a knowledgeable friend and got the number of the best boob guy at the Royal Marsden, in case I need it. And I managed to do a good show of 'normal Mum' for the kids.

The reality is that the booze escape hatch is a bit like the one in a James Bond Movie. You think you've found an easy way out of the villain's lair, but you find yourself falling into an underground pool filled with hungry sharks.

I also discovered that it's true what they say about quitting booze giving you the strength and the tools to do anything. Because now I am one hell of a lot better at dealing with fear (see post on Anxiety and Courage). And banishing that voice in your head which constantly says you are going to die! is pretty much exactly the same as banishing the wine witch. The same distraction, visualisation and self care techniques work a treat.

I did do some macabre thinking. I had a long car journey today during which I planned my memorial service. It was just like my old game of deciding what I'd choose as my Desert Island Disks, but more morbid. (In case you're interested, I'm definitely having The Owl and the Pussycat as a reading, and will insist on them playing my song for Mr SM - Flowers in the Window by Travis).

(I also have to confess to drinking 6 Becks Blues and not eating anything. On the upside, I lost 2 pounds in 24 hours - yay!).

So, I'm fine. The odds, as many of you pointed out, are in my favour. But, if I end up with the short straw, I know that I am strong. I have you amazing people. I have one of the best cancer hospitals in the world just down the road. I can manage without hair if necessary. I can heal myself and help my Aunt too.

It's just a case of baby steps. One day at a time. Sound familiar?

If you're just starting out on this journey, then remember: you're not just changing your life by getting sober; you're also giving yourself the tools to deal with anything. And you never know when you might need them....

You rock. You are my rock.

SM x