In about 12 hours I will be preparing myself for another life changing experience, an operation to remove the remaining and fast spreading cancer cells from my skin’s surface and replacing this defect with the skin and muscle from my back. 

To say I’ll be preparing for it in 12 hours is a little lie really as I’ve thought of almost nothing else all week.  As you can imagine I’ve had the conversation in my head with the surgeon about where he is going to cut and how its ok to make me look like a patchwork quilt along as he gets it all.  My life is in his hands, yet again. 

I’ve spoken to him in my head and cried tears of joy when he comes to tell me that he got it all and it’s going to be ok.  

I’ve also tried to prepare myself for the “Sorry Mrs O’Neill the margins were not clear”.

Will I fall to the floor, pass out, sob uncontrollably, shake like I’ve caught the flu and give up on the journey and discoveries I’ve encountered so far? 

Will I feel my trip to Brazil was all in vain and my belief system is a phoney and a fake and that my spirituality was all a con?  Preparing for the worst is always an option and although I don’t want to think or acknowledge that this is going to happen, if I’m prepared then just maybe after I’ve experienced one of the above (probably sobbing uncontrollably) I will be able to pick myself up, dust myself down, find the strength to carry on and continue with everything I’ve put my faith in so far.
Where there is life there is hope and I hope for life. 

If I were to open a text book now it would probably tell not to go ahead with the op, that it has spread too far and I could be doing more harm than good but I am fast running out of options so I believe this is my best bet.  How can it not be? 

I have done everything in my power to prepare for this moment, meditating, hypnotherapy, bloody hell I even went all the way to Brazil to ask for support on the day of the operation. 

There is simply nothing else left I can do except pray and have faith,  faith in my surgeon, faith in the spiritual realm, faith in God and faith in myself, in my own body and that it will know exactly what to do to heal.

If my body could hear me or read my thoughts it would know that now is the time to let the cancer go. 

If there is no other way for it to get out of my body than through surgery then I am making the right choice in mutilating my poor body, that has already been through so much, and will understand  how much I want to get better. 

I have in no way learnt all of life’s lessons but that is part of the journey and I am on the right path now, I understand the true meaning of life and I just want the opportunity to live it and teach others including my children all the things I have learned and continue to discover on this incredible path.

So now I want to finish by saying thank you to cancer for coming into my life and turning it upside down in order for me to open my eyes so I can now appreciate everything and everyone around me. 

I now see clearer.  I forgive easier.  I love intensely.  I laugh harder and I show gratitude almost every minute of every day. 

But it’s time to go now cancer, as not only have you taught me so much of the good stuff you have also broken my heart, allowed fear to take residence there, so at times when I have felt it so bad I could hardly breathe. 

You brought despair, distress, and unbelievable sadness not only to me but to all those I love so dearly.  And I do believe without the bad stuff you cannot feel the good stuff so it was all, I suppose, meant to be. 

But thank you, cancer I need you no more, I get it, clear as mud it’s time to go and I hope and pray that tomorrow is gonna be my lucky day.

So if you are reading this now and whatever your beliefs are, do me a favour and say a little prayer  to those upstairs who look down on us and watch us that they may watch over me tomorrow and cut me some slack, give me a break and make it my lucky day.