baubles, good luck with the surgery -- great to hear they booked it with you/your DD's schedule in mind
Halfbaked, hope the PICC soreness goes away, and that your first chemo is trouble free
rocket, sorry to hear the chemo isn't working so well. Fingers crossed for the mastectomy. But glad you don't have to cold cap any more (your hair is amazing!)
Flippy, great news about the surgery!
for a good recovery
sdoc, good luck -- sorry I don't know much about ovarian cancer
chewing, good thing the MRI was clear, and hope 2L chemo will sort it out
fluffy, ouch! Hope it gets better soon
leslie, glad you're more comfortable now
Argy, once I got over the thought of being a topic of conversation I didn't like the idea of people talking about me while I wasn't around, possibly in pitying tones with a few she's-so-brave's thrown in I realised information control was the least of my worries. It was easier to tell family, friends, work and DS school in one go (well, over a couple of weeks) once I had a surgery date, and not wonder later on who I had or hadn't told yet, or who wasn't supposed to know, or which phased wave of friends to tell next.
I asked those who said "let me know how I can help" to tell others who I wouldn't normally have seen, but who they'd be meeting up with. DH handled all correspondence with his side of the family (living overseas).
It was tiring, as Halfbaked says, because I felt I had to manage their reaction and I dreaded getting remarks like "Ooooh bet you'll be watching loads of box sets" (from colleagues), or "I had a friend with the same thing last year and now she's doing even better in her career!" (first of all, there's so many different types of breast cancer; secondly, I feel like you're setting me up for failure if I don't recover as well or gracefully as your friend).
But most people were sympathetic and nice, and the insensitive comments I chalked up to people being afraid they were one scan or mammogram away from being a cancer patient themselves. Now most everyone knows, I don't have to keep reliving the trauma of being diagnosed by having to tell someone new every so often.