Childhood dreamsĀ 

Do you remember all the things you dreamt you’d  be, and do, when you were a child? 

I always wanted to be a mum but I also wanted to be a police woman or an air stewardess. I also toyed with the idea of becoming a Wren in the Navy – I was a sea cadet for a while and I loved it!! I’m not sure why I didn’t follow any of those paths. I guess you just change as you grow up, you meet boys and start to party. 

I think I must’ve been a bit of a dreamer. I used to imagine owning a farm with cows and horses, piglets and ducks. I’d spend hours designing my wedding dress and imagine meeting my prince, getting married and living happily ever. 

I think I prefer the naivety and dreams. I still wish I lived in a film – there’s always a happy ending. 

Life is not full of happy ever afters. Life is nothing but a struggle, and not at all how I imagined. 

Now don’t get me wrong, I’m a positive person and like to try and make the best of things but sometimes it all just gets a little too much. A good friend of mine described it beautifully yesterday – he said ‘I promise we’re not all having a great time while the lord almighty empties his bladder on you’. Sometimes that’s just what it feels like. I mean how much shit (or piss!) does one person have to cope with?! I seem to have fallen out with family members, I have 2 failed relationships – 1 of those my marriage and I have one of the worst illnesses you can ever be diagnosed with. 

To quote another friend, ‘I wonder if anyone, anywhere, is happy? I’ve come to the conclusion life is bad and we have to make it better’. I think he’s right. You have to have those dreams and keep them safe because that’s what gets you through the dark times. 

I feel quite guilty about my illness. Guilty because people don’t know how to react. Guilty because people have left and continue to leave me. Guilty that it’s tainting my children’s childhood. Guilty because I might not be here to protect or help them when they need me the most. 

If I could wish for just one thing it’d be that my children don’t have  to struggle through life the way I have. I want them to find and keep their happy ever afters. 

I’m not sure where I’m going with this but don’t stop chasing your dreams. If you want it, do your damnedest to get it. Don’t settle for anything less. Lifes a bitch so make it fun. 


What a week!

It’s been a funny old week. It started off quite mundane on Monday. I went to the gym, did a bit of housework. Tuesday I was in and out all day. I had a hospital appointment at the L&D, then gracie had an orthodontist appointment at Watford General, I popped into town and then later that afternoon I drove to St Albans to do a little talk for my gym about the Move More scheme that I’m part of. I certainly covered some miles. 

I started the day (Tuesday) with a period like tummy ache, dull and very low. I was a little worried because I don’t have periods anymore. As the day went on the pain went right around my middle and into my back. I didn’t feel great and by the time I got to picking Daisy up from school, I could barely stand straight or walk. I text my neighbour and she told me to ring the GP, so I did. 

I had to go straight there and on examination she decided quite quickly that I had appendicitis. She wanted to call an ambulance there and then but I needed to sort the girls out so she agreed to order the ambulance and get them to collect me from home. 

I got to A&E pretty much doubled over in pain. The triage nurse asked me my pain score out of 10 – I said 16!! I’ve got quite a high pain threshold but boy did this hurt. My temperature was high which indicated that I had an infection, so I was cannulated and given iv antibiotics, paracetamol and morphine. Morphine is great!! 

I got put on a ward and was told I’d be having my appendix out the next day. I hardly slept. I had observations (blood pressure, oxygen levels, temp) done every 2 hours and was having iv fluids through the night. I signed the consent form for surgery at 2.30am!! 

The surgeon came round at about 9am and told me that I was on the emergency list for my operation. I was pretty nervous at that point. I went down at 12.30 and met the anaesthetist. The next thing I remember is waking up crying – and I mean absolutely balling. The guy opposite me kept asking if I was ok. I felt like death warmed up, my throat was ‘thick’ and sore and I felt nauseous. After a while I was taken back up to the ward, where I promptly threw up in a cardboard bowl. 

Fast forward to today. I got moved to ward 34 which is where my cancer story started almost 3 yrs ago. It’s bought back some memories but it’s also reunited me with some of the nurses that looked after me then. 

I’m a little sore but apart from that I’m feeling ok. I’ve made friends with the 3 ladies in my ward and we’ve chatted about anything and everything – men, number 2’s, farting, cloud formations(?!!). I even tried to convince them to have a disco!! We’ve had some right laughs today, albeit painful ones!! I’m going to miss them when I leave. 

I’ve managed to eat a little more than custard thanks to Gracie and Rosie bringing me supplies. And I just had a pork and stuffing sarnie, washed down with a hot chocolate, thanks to my lovely nurse. 

I’m going home tomorrow but I’ve really enjoyed the rest. Bit of a drastic way to go about getting some I know!! Considering dipping the thermometer in my tea in the morning, Carry On style!! 

My new chums are all snoring gently and I’ve had my last lot of meds for the day so I’m going to get my head down too. 

You have to laugh don’t you xx

It’s My LifeĀ 

I feel that the time has come for me to ‘explain’ myself. I feel very much like I’m being judged lately and to be quite honest, it’s getting right on my tits!! 

I have cancer. I’m never not going to have cancer. At the moment I’m winning the race but who knows when it will catch me up and be snapping at my heels. When it does, I will have to go back onto chemo and deal with all the side effects that will bring. That is a dead cert. So, until that moment I intend to live my life to the fullest. 

I go to the gym. It’s my happy place. The place I can go when I’m feeling low or I’ve had a stressful morning with Daisy. Nine out of ten times, I leave feeling a hell of a lot better than I did when I went in. It helps with my fatigue and it helps with my aches and pains. 

Yep, aches and pains. I’m quite often in pain – mostly my legs and right hip but I don’t moan about it, that’s not going to help anyone. Instead I go to the gym because I actually ache less than I do if I don’t go. 

I also like to go out dancing. I wear heels and I have a drink (or two!). Now, going out is a killer. I’m on my feet for a long period of time – standing is something I can find difficult at times. I’m obviously out late – another challenge as I’m pretty useless by about 4pm and ready for my bed. I hardly sleep once home because of the pain in my legs/hip/feet BUT it’s all worth it because I’ve had a fab night and I feel normal. No one has a clue that I’m ill and I can lose myself in the music and atmosphere (I’m sure the alcohol helps too!). 

I like to help the charities that I’m involved with. I like to think I’m helping to raise awareness and if I can show just one person that it’s possible to carry on with a new normal way of life, then I have succeeded. I hope that people look at me and know that anything is possible. 

So, to round up….basically I’m living my life to the absolute fullest whether people agree or not. I’ll carry on doing what I’m doing and I’ll deal with the consequences, pain, tiredness. 

What I’d really like is for people to be proud of me. Proud of what I’ve achieved. But do you know what? I’m proud of me – I’m f**king awesome!!