Today is the 30th anniversary of that wonderful little TV favourite, 'Happy Days!"
Perhaps it is an omen, because today also marks another important anniversary.
Today it is actually three years to the day since I found myself sitting opposite my doctor and hearing words such as 'chemotherapy' for the first time.
It is three years since the door opened to the strange and terrifying world that is cancer.
It is only on reflection that I realise what enormous hurdles both I and my family leapt. They were really tough days and I'm just glad I have my book to remind me what I went through.
Because it's human nature to want to cloak the distressing parts of our past with forgetting.
So I feel extremely fortunate that I have created a record of my struggle to remind me.
And I feel privileged that my story has already helped many people dealing with the same bad news. I continue to receive positive feedback from people of all ages and all walks of life. It may only translate to a handful of people compared to the huge swathe of humanity but remember what Mother Teresa said:
Breast Cancer has totally changed my life. Obviously.
Not only do I now have a far more stream-lined chest, thinner hair, a brain that is probably a few seconds slower to compute.
I also have endless reasons for self-pity, for anger and for the many negative emotions that can accompany a kind of trauma.
However, for not one single, solitary minute have I allowed these feelings to take dominance. Today and every day, I work very hard to continue to be the best Bron I can be.
It's not always easy. I still have days when I am committing at least one of the seven deadly sins:
For example, I am consumed by envy at my friends who can still run, run, run! At my friends still playing soccer. At my friends who can remember shit. Like my sister, Nicky. I swear that woman can remember the colour of the underwear she wore at her fifth birthday.
I get angry (frequently) over some things that perhaps mightn't have had me in quite such a lather once. In fact, I have episodes of fury. Yeah, I know you're surprised.
I even hate. Okay, not really. I would find that hard. But I do continue to hate and despise cliches. For example, take the phrase 'I love you to the moon and back'. I don't doubt the genuine affection behind this lovely thought but I have read it so many times of late that I'm thinking: Come on folks! How about some creativity? How about 'I love you to Pluto and back'? ' I love you to the Milky Way and back'? I love you to over the Story Bridge, onto the Bruce Highway and Somewhere Past Weipa and Back? Hmm?
Anyway, you get my drift, I am far, far, far, far, farrrrrrrrrr from being my best and sadly, have to accept that I never will be.
But that's okay because, such as it is, these are still Happy Days!
Last week I celebrated my 51st birthday. I am extremely happy to be alive.
People say that from this vantage point, there is only the other side of the hill. Some sort of predictable downward slide.
I disagree. I do not see the other side of the hill.
Instead, before me I see other hills, other shit to haul. Because that is what life is. In fact, I love hills! Because they are the things that give structure, form and perhaps, even, meaning to my story.
All I know is that, three years on, I am certain that whatever other hills may reveal themselves, I can overcome them and you know, even if I don't make the top of the next one, even if I find myself felled by an avalanche half way up the next mound, it's okay.
Because at the very least, it's made for a decent story.
www.thebreastishistory.com is where you can find it. Hey! It's my blog. I'm allowed to give myself a plug.
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