Down the free-martin path

A gentle sensation of relief runs through me. All is well on the health front.

I've stopped at a place called Ekachai off Oxford Street to rest up and chow up, before I face the rest of the journey back to my digs.

I'm a bit buzzy on the adrenalin from my consultation. I think some Siu Mai might help...

Well I'm feeling calmer now, but it wasn't much of a gastronomic experience. Should I be more optimistic about the Pad Thai? Still this is a little haven from the bustle, and the service is efficient and low key.

The option of risk reduction surgery arose during today's consult. I was 28 when I got my first Cancer diagnosis and I chose to go down the route of minimal surgery. It was a choice I repeated when a new cancer was discovered in 2008.

How would I feel if I went down the free-martin path and said goodbye to ovaries and breasts? Once done there is no turning back. Answers on a postcard to...

I wish it was just a quick cab ride home to Leeds. I'd like very much to get snuggled up on the sofa surrounded by all the detritus of my life. Hunker down. Get a handle on life.

I feel stranded here, in the no man's land of the commercial west end. At the other end of my commute is a spare room I'm renting, equally alien. There's no place like home.

It's the first time I've felt this way since returning to work.

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