Doing it

I had treatment today. Zometa is an intravenous infusion I have that helps to strengthen my bones. Fondly known as bone juice. I have had it every 4 weeks since the beginning of my journey and it’s just become a routine part of my life. It’s a dull and tiring day but a necessity. Today my appointments have been changed to every 6 weeks as being on Zometa long term isn’t all that good for you and you can end up with some pretty horrible side effects. 

I’ve been going to the chemo unit for almost 3 years now and have formed some amazing relationships with my chemo nurses. They hold my hand, listen to me moan and put up with my (frequent) crying!! They’re always run off their feet but they always make time to sit with those who need them, for as long as they need.

I think all the chemo nurses are amazing but I do have a favourite. She’s the nurse I was first introduced to on that scary first day of chemo. She showed me around the chemo suite and explained what would happen each week. She told me about my hair falling out, the sickness, the loss of appetite, the side effects. I was so scared but she sat with me the entire time during my first session. 

She has been there for me. I have shared everything with her. 

We were reminiscing today. She said that she can’t help but get attached to certain patients. I’m one of them. It really meant a lot to me. She made me think about my journey so far and she made me realise that I’m actually doing a pretty good job of everything. To be told you’re doing amazingly is just the best thing. A few words can mean such a lot. Recognition. 

Considering they didn’t think I was going to make Christmas 2014, I think I’ve done alright!! I thought about everything I’ve done since then. For myself.  For the kids. For charity. All I wanted was to keep life as normal as possible for the kids and to raise awareness of SBC. I will keep doing both for as long as possible. 

I feel proud of myself today. Proud of everything I’ve done and all I’ve achieved. Proud that even during the dark days, I’m still doing it – whatever ‘it’ is. 


Oh what a night. 

Last night me and Becca went out out and we had a bloody good laugh!! 

We headed into watford to Steinbeck and Shaw and drank a waste paper basket size cocktail each. I’ll admit that I struggled with this and today can’t even look at the photo I took without heaving!! The bar gets really busy and the DJ plays a great mix of party hits. The only bad thing is that the toilets are upstairs and it’s no mean feat, in heels, slightly inebriated, navigating them!! 

Next stop was Reflex, the 80’s bar. You’ll be pleased know the toilets are downstairs!! We always have a good time in there and dance most of the night. Now I always pay for this – I barely sleep once in bed because the pain in my legs/feet is awful. They hurt for a couple of days after too. But, going out and dancing and socialising makes me feel ‘normal’ and there’s no way I’d not do it. 

No matter where we are, we always gang up with a group of guys and last night was no exception. Pete, Gary and Jamie were from Ickenham and we had a right laugh with them. They approached us because, in their words, we were the only ones who looked like they were having fun!! They also thought we were only 28 so come on, they’re worth chatting to 😉 There’s never anything in our random friendships, just giggles. 

Now this is the part you might frown upon but tbh I couldn’t care less!! We ended up going to a ‘Gentlemans Bar’ with them and boy, what an eye opener that was!!! Me and Becca are so naive that we actually asked if we were allowed in!! Apart from being ridiculously expensive- £5.50 for half a lager, I actually didn’t mind it in there (once I knew where to (not) look!) Some of the girls were beautiful and I wish I had the body confidence that they had. 

Unbeknown to me, Becca had told Gary about my illness and my bucket list. Next thing I know I’m being led upstairs for a ‘special’ dance!! I still don’t think I’ve recovered!!! Me being me thought if you can’t beat ’em, join ’em so I asked the manager if I could have a go(?) on the pole. I have to say I’m as sexy as a sock and don’t think I’ll be getting a job there anytime soon!! 

At the end of the night we said our goodbyes. I felt quite emotional thinking we’d never see them again. We’d had such a laugh with them. It’s funny how you cross paths with people and how some leave a lasting mark. Last night will stay with me forever. 

I thought I was doing exceptionally well today after only 4 hours sleep but I’ll admit that I’ve already had a nap and I’m flagging badly. I think my liver has moved out and I need to rehydrate with water – only there’s no room for any more liquid. I’m dosed up to the eyeballs on painkillers and counting down the hours to bedtime. But, oh what a night…..


Treading Water 

It’s been a mad few weeks. Firstly I had an emergency op to remove my appendix. That’s all healed now and I’ve been back to the gym – my happy place. I missed running but the break has really helped my shin splints. I ran on Monday – my first since surgery and I managed 2km comfortably with only two, 30secs walks. 

Ive also had things going on in my personal life. It’s really upset me and made me doubt myself as a person. I feel lost now and unsure as to who I am. 

Having a chronic illness of any sort changes your outlook on life. Having one that will most likely shorten your life, really messes with your head. Everyday I fight to keep thoughts at bay, to not worry about the what ifs or worry about the future. But it’s bloody hard. 

I was hanging wet washing on the airer the other morning and into my head popped a thought about how I don’t want Daisy dressed when I’m not here?! I can be listening to the radio and a song will come on that I’ll mentally note to be played at my funeral. 

My funeral. Yes. Not something many of you will have thought about. But I do. I know exactly how I want it to go, what I want people to wear and the songs and flowers I’d like. It will be planned to perfection. 

I think about when I get ill again. It’s a dead cert that it will happen, I just don’t know when. Something else that weighs heavily on me. I’m scanned every 6 months and get results 2 weeks later. I absolutely dread those appointments. Your fate lies in the balance and you have no idea what way it’s going to tip. So far I’ve been lucky and had excellent results but I still cry with relief when I get home. 

I never really moan about my illness on Facebook. I always try to show the positive side. But when that’s never good enough for some people either, I just think what’s the bloody point. All I’ve done is try my best to make the best of life. To raise awareness and money  and most importantly to keep things real for my children – they are my world. I try and protect them from the reality. I want them to have a normal childhood – I don’t want them looking back in years to come and only remembering that I was poorly. 

I never moan about the fact that I’m tired. Always tired. I slept for 10 hours last night yet I feel like I’ve been awake for days. I never moan about the pain I’m in on an almost daily basis. I never moan about the side effects of the various medications that I have to take to keep the cancer at bay. There’s much more to my illness than just the cancer. 

I’ve been ‘treading water’ for a few weeks but yesterday I finally fell in. I’m feeling quite low. All I can do is ride the wave. It will pass and hopefully I’ll find me again.