Try, try, try.......

Try, try, try again.....

Yesterday I woke up nervous. Third attempt at my second chemo cycle. I had been confident at the end of last week. Sure I'd beaten my viral infection, and ready for the next step forward. On Friday I even thought it'd be funny to try and guess what my platelets and neutrophils levels were.......... Never do this. You will get it wrong. I completely underestimated my platelets...... they were a huge amount higher than I expected. Good news! Unfortunately, neutrophils......... (normal levels between 1.8 and 8, need to be 1.5 for treatment, had been 1.3 last week), I had estimated 1.8, so a big disappointment to be told they were down to 1.1. I don't like to read up too much as Dr Google will rarely bring you glad tidings, however my understanding is that  I am at high risk of infection and my body has no ability to fight it.  No chemo........ again....... That's the third attempt at cycle 2. The third everyone has geared themselves up. The third time my sister has flown over from Manchester to take me up. The first week I was told 'no' I was hugely upset. Devastated. Last week I felt nothing but relief. This week I'm just a bit of a combination. I don't want to do it, but I'd rather get it over with if I have to. I feel guilty and probably a bit weak. I was pissed off. I guess I still am the next day. It feels unfair. Guess what?? Cancer is unfair. It sucks. It's hard work. 'The journey' is rarely a nice manicured path. It'll be  more likely to be a twisty, confusing path, littered with rocks. Of course there are times when I question my treatment decisions, but I said I would trust the experts and I still maintain that's the right thing to do. Apparently chemo doses often need adjusted and in a fit of spitefulness I told my sister "Glad the first chemo 'tells us so much'. Oh aye, a bit too much poison there. Glad we didn't kill you by mistake. Maybe you're not as strong as we thought. We'll maybe drop your dose a bit next time.", to which my poor sister pointed out "Or we can tailor make the dose to suit you and your requirements." A fair point. There's not much in life that's an exact science. 

As usual, I've just written a ridiculously huge amount when I could've just said My chemo didn't go ahead again yesterday. As always, it helps me work through it all when I write it down. You didn't have to read it...!! 

So chemo didn't go ahead for the third week in a row. As ever, part of me just wants to get on with it and get it done, another part of me feels nothing but relief.  I didn't sleep well last night but the reality is that it was very far from a wasted day yesterday. 

I had a scan. They've tried to lower expectations around it...... it's just a line in the sand for us, it won't tell us a huge amount more, don't expect massive revelations from it. I'm not unrealistic, but I am simply not allowing the "it might be gone!" voice to disappear completely.  I'm not expecting to be told that, but I refuse to lose hope either..... 

If nothing else, my sister and I met a lovely lady while waiting. A nurse who was waiting for her son. Just a warm soul. We enjoyed a really nice conversation and I think gave each other a wee boost.

Then I met friends! As always!! One a friend made through going to radio. A hospital staff member who had told me about a meditation app (Calm - definitely recommend!) She didn't look after me, we just met in the foyer one day. She helped me hugely at a time when I was struggling. I bought her a book to say thanks. Just a bit of kindness shown to each other, taking minimal time and energy, but having huge impacts. Another shining star along the road.

Then I got to catch up with my ward buddy and her mum. What could be better?? And she came with a bag of gifts and a card that melted my heart! For no reason, other than just to be nice. It was so great to see them. To be reminded I've got a partner in crime. We stay strong for each other. During our chat another staff member came and joined in. Someone who had helped both of us during radio. It's all about the people.

I also had my PICC line fitted.  My tap. It can be used to take blood, to put dye in for scans and for giving me the IV bit of my chemo. It's in the top of my right arm. A little uncomfortable, but not too bad. I'm just not thinking about the 38cm of cable tubing that's now in my body and sticking into a large vein in my chest. It's 100 times better than playing Gone Digging every week. I'll get used to the feeling of it being there, and will no doubt be very grateful for it at a number of points in the future. 

And finally........ weight loss....... When doing radio I gained half a stone. I was never worried by that. I have bigger fish to fry. Then I lost it. And kept losing it. Someone once asked me if I was losing it deliberately....... basically asking if I was on a diet following a bit of weight gain during radio. I believe my response was 'Erm, no, that'd be a bit stupid, wouldn't it??' This person clearly didn't know me at all....... What sort of idiot would diet during cancer treatment??? I have my priorities absolutely clear....... to get better. I don't care if the front of my hair looks like fuzzy felt or if I gain a few pounds! All reparable in future. So no, I didn't diet. But I did become a bit scared of food...... when you're given a list of foods you can't eat that includes yeast extract (what even is that???) and meat extract (no stock, gravy etc) and cheeses, it can be incredibly difficult to figure out what's ok to eat. Then it becomes a 'thing' and before you know it you feel like you're force feeding yourself and just stop enjoying food. However, I don't need a doctor to tell me what's a healthy weight. No woman wants to gain weight, but I also know that at 5 foot 7 my weight in stone shouldn't start with an 8. I also don't want size 8 clothes 'sagging at the arse'!!  So, on strict instruction of a dietitian, I'm bulking up. As she pointed out, a weak body will just not be able to cope with chemo. I don't want supplement drinks. Like an antidepressant they won't cure the issue....... I'll take them if I have to, but let's try feeding my face first?! Unlike Frampton, I won't miss my weight (although I seem to remember he was over, which would be fine for me!)......Every meal must have two courses, reintroduction of carbs, sugars, fats. Hubby is ecstatic!!! 

So what's the plan?? Well today I'm staying in bed. I'm exhausted from all the stress of yesterday, I didn't sleep well last night, I've got a headache and I'm scunnered. That's allowed for one day. Tomorrow I'm up and giving myself a kick. Hubby is off all week and it's nearly gone already. We have plans for a great walk tomorrow. I'm looking forward to it. I really can't go into public at the moment due to the infection risks (anyone calling is going to end up get hosed down at the door!), but I need to be outside and get myself built up physically as well as mentally. Getting 'tour fit' yet again. Weight up, muscles built up a bit, spirits high. I've less than a week before I ride into battle again. The sooner I get this crap done, the sooner it's ended. I'm trying to rewind a bit to before surgeries..... and then before radio.......Help myself. Good food (and plenty of it!), exercise, mental strength from relaxation, strong friendships and good night's' sleep. 

Results and plans for the future can stay there..... in the future. I'm strictly on a 'take each day' diet. Xxx

Alternative Ulster

Last night Stiff Little Fingers played Belfast, along with a number of other punk bands. During the Troubles, Belfast was renowned for a music culture that crossed boundaries and flew in the face of the sectarianism and hatred so evident in other areas. The punk scene is known to be a big part of this, with Stiff Little Fingers right at the heart of it. If you want a real lesson in it then watch the film about Terri Hooley, Good Vibrations. Or just google it...... there's any amount of articles and books on the subject. 

My point?? SLF have a very well known song called Alternative Ulster. It's basically about changing where you live. Taking control of your own destiny. To me it wasn't written about rising up against authority as such, it was about making a difference where you could. Not getting involved with the sectarian battles, just focussing on music and the mates you've made through that. Religion and politics didn't matter, as long as you all loved music. Jake Burns may correct me.... but I don't think it's really an anti authority song. 

I grew up (and still am!) a rocker. The concept is exactly the same. I wouldn't have known the religion of half my friends growing up, despite being forced into boxes at every opportunity, most notably through what school we attended. I'm somewhat pleased to have passed this disregard for boxes on to my son. When filling out the religion section in a form, he states 'neither'. I spoke to him about it at one stage and he told me he'd never been raised one way or the other, that he'd never been christened, that we didn't go to church, and that he didn't feel more associated with Protestism or Catholicism. He is also 'Northern Irish', because there some things that make him feel Irish and some that make him feel British. There's hope for our future!!! As a funny aside (although this whole blog entry feels like a funny aside...!) I feel so strongly about the Northern Irish thing that I put it on my census form....... a source of great and never ending amusement in our house. I'm Scottish. Duh.

Flip me, Sunday morning musings........ There's a point here somewhere, honest.......

Sometimes I feel like I've been thrown into a bit of an alternative universe........ one where people I didn't expect are pogo-ing at punk shows while I'm tucked up in bed, reading Pride and Prejudice. Sometimes it can feel a little odd, and even upsetting. Last night, as my husband and son, along with so many other friends, were up seeing SLF and having a great time, I initially felt a bit sad. Lonely. Like life was going on all around me but I wasn't able to join in. 

As the evening wore on though, I remembered that I had chosen not to go to the gig. I enjoyed seeing my boys and friends have fun. That's what life's about. I looked forward to getting back out there next year. I am not bedridden. I am not so ill that I can't leave the house. I chose not to go out because I'm trying to get myself fit for Tuesday. That's not boring or weak...... that's harder than any punk band! They'd be terrified to pogo anywhere near me....... because they know I'm tough as old boots! 

The audience might've been jumping around shouting about changing their native land, but how many of them are actually doing it? All of us undergoing cancer treatment are taking control of our destinies....... as much as we can.  We're saying what's going on is not the life we choose.  We're saying "Punch me again. I can take it!" We're walking home. It's a long and arduous road, but we're walking it.

I should probably leave Sunday mornings for reading the papers........ 

Life has changed. Sometimes that feels weird and sometimes I grieve a little for my old life. Then I remember how fortunate I am, and all the wonderful things that have happened to me as a result of my illness. I might not have been jumping around to SLF last night, but this morning I got two hugs from staff members at a shop near my home. One from a girl who is soon to undergo 'a tiny bit of heart surgery' and another from a girl who had a brain tumour removed last year (thankfully benign, but I'm sure she's not a day over 23, and I'd imagine the terror is no different to what any of us feel). Two people I knew before my diagnosis, but only in very remote ways. A quick hello, maybe a comment on the weather. Now we hug and encourage each other. They tell me I look amazing, and how strong I am. Sharing positivity and offering genuine help should the other need it. Sunday morning love from people not obligated to give it. Spirit lifting.

I was also sent a video about the Japanese art of 'forest bathing'. Where you literally go into forests and drink up the health benefits. It has been scientifically proven to improve health. Shinrin-yoku. I have been practicing it without even realising and can attest to its relaxation benefits. Hopefully the physical health benefits will follow. The video was sent to me by another person it's unlikely I'd know if not for being unwell. Yet another warm spirit.Amongst the  network of lovely people I've been given access to now because my mind is open to seeing them.  I will use the opportunity to plug a charity I know she helps....... Rosie's Trust. They offer a dog walking service for cancer patients who become unable to do it themselves. A wonderful idea, as I'm sure many older patients find themselves in that position, but their dogs may be their company and hugely important to their mental wellbeing. My dog, Izz, is merely taking full advantage of having someone at home much of the time....... she has become a complete diva like her owner!! Thankfully we've no problems with the walking, but I can imagine if you lived alone and perhaps were older that it could become an issue. Rosie's Trust. A bit of an alternative charity to the usual services offered I thought, but could be equally as important to someone's wellbeing.

And finally...... maybe..... hopefully...... my point is made....... It's ok to be a bit alternative. Go hug a tree, pogo to a punk band, hug people, do something to help someone that doesn't fit into the traditional categories....... Alternative is good! Xxx

33,000

I can't find anything interesting that involves the number 33,000...... I was hoping it would be something cool, like 'the number of honey bees in a hive' (20,000-80,000) or something..... couldn't find anything...... apart from something about gun deaths in America that didn't really fit with the general (I hope) positive vibe of the blog. So I had to stick with my reason for mentioning the number, and forget any fancy factoids! 

As of today, 33,000 is the number of hits I've had on this blog! That's nothing short of crazy to me! It's been running 26 weeks and that's not unique hits, but even still....

The Analyst in me feels it necessary to provide a bit more information.....

Number of posts - 142 (average of 4/ week. I have a lot to say.........)

Blog hits - 33,000

Average views per week - 1,269

Average views per day - 181

Top 3 most popular posts-

I Made you a promise

Who am I?

Finally I sleep

This is staggering! Even if the same 100 people looked at it every day faithfully, the number of hits would be close to half what it actually is. I don't believe I know 200 people........ certainly not that would interested in this....! 

Part of me is mortified as ever...... I have shown my soul in this blog. From day one it's been like thinking out loud. My way of releasing my thoughts and feelings. Partially my way of coping. I still find it hugely surprising that I chose to do that publically..... and really don't know why I did. I always hoped it might help others in some way, and I have had some people talk to me about it, that have made me feel like maybe, just maybe...... I wasn't the only one who's felt particular ways at difficult times in life. I know I've made a few people laugh (granted often close friends!), but it can only be healthy when you're typing something and making yourself laugh too!....... Probably the height of arrogance to be laughing at your own jokes, but I was laughing at the re-telling of some really funny stuff, rather than at my comedic ability! Sometimes things happen that are just funny! I hope, as well, that the stories of how decent and good people generally are, brings a smile to the odd face. Again, the act of writing it down has been a joyful experience for me, at a time when it can sometimes be hard to remember you're surrounding by genuine love. 

I love writing about an act of kindness or a funny thing that has happened. Unfortunately there's also a necessity for crap bits too....... medical updates etc. The dull bits. But really the dull bits are what started this....... the provision of medical updates to the large number of wonderful family and friends that genuinely care. If I had to guess how many of those people there are who faithfully read the blog daily, I'd generously estimate it at about 30. That leaves 151 people every day. Some will be just plain nosy..... although committedly so, it seems! Some just curious. But if I were getting just 5 people every day, reading because they've felt the same. Be it in terms of the emotional journey that serious illness brings or understanding and controlling anxiety (whatever the cause), then I'd be achieving a huge amount and I'd be very happy with that. In fact, I'd be happy with one...... ever!

This sounds like a last update but it's not! I'm competitive...... 50,000 seems reasonable? I've still months of chemo and lots to say...... which neartly segways into today's update...

No chemo again today. Sis and I went up to Belfast and the hope was my bloods would be ok and I'd get my PICC line in and start cycle 2. I was sceptical. I haven't been well for the last week or so. I've been fighting it, but am on antibiotics again. Ear/throat/murderous headaches..... sinuses if I had to guess........... I had two sea walks over the weekend as the salt air often helps. Truth is I feel pretty bad. Nothing awful........ unlikely to have kept me off work, but might've sent me home early...... I was trying to be positive and convince my body it was fine, but I knew I felt worse than I did last week. Unfortunately I'd read this one right. No chemo today. This time platelets were ok, but nutrafills were 0.2 lower that the cutoff point. Last week when I was told no chemo, I cried my eyes out. Then went to keep fit class. This week I breathed a massive sigh of relief! I feel a bit annoyed with myself for being quite so relieved...... but I knew I wasn't fit for it. It's so tempting to always want things to move. To keep taking the punches, because you want it over with. Sometimes your body just says no. That's why your bloods are checked and there are strict parameters. I was never naturally great at rolling with the punches, but I'm learning the art....... I suspect this is how cancer treatment often  is...... you've got to learn to be flexible. The hardest bit for me is dragging my sister over from Manchester. She'd never say, but I know how inconvenient it can be. I have other people who would take me up, but your sister is your sister....... She has a way with her. There are skills needed!! Organisational (get us there on time, sure to keep notes, query things) and emotional (keep me calm, comfort during times of physical pain that usually involve a needle!). Plus she's pretty much always calm, unpressured and unhurried.

I'm not hugely unwell, but I could've been if they'd started me on chemo today. So I'll spend the week resting, getting rid of whatever minor ailment has come my way and keeping active in a gentle way. 

And eating. I remember joking that I must be the only cancer patient to gain half a stone. What goes up, must come down....... a full stone off in 7 weeks....... So this week if you see me without a food item in my hand then stick one in it please!! 

Next week we try again. I'm confident by then I'll be ready. Handily, hubby had booked next week off. We had some plans to do fun stuff...... but now he gets to look after me! That's a huge comfort to me to have him off when I'll be feeling at my worst, so I'm not mucking it up! Cycle 2 will start on Tuesday if I have to start stealing good bloods!!  Xxx

If at first you don't succeed.....

"If at first you don't succeed, try, try, try again" 

usually attributed to Robert the Bruce. 

Though I've heard many different stories about who said it, when..... I think we're all agreed it was a Scotsman. As a Glaswegian, living on the North Coast of Northern Ireland, I like the story that it was said by Bonnie Prince Charlie while watching a spider trying to spin a web in a cave on Rathlin Island.

On Monday we try, try, try again. Up to the Big Smoke for bloods to be checked and chemo to be given if possible. Cancer treatment is teaching me a level of calm and flexibility I never thought possible! Thankfully my sister is the most laid back person on earth and takes everything in her stride; greatly helping me to do the same. If it's meant to be......

So I've got until Monday to sort (as my friend calls them) these pesky platelets! I'm still feeling unwell from the throat infection I'm carrying, so have decided on a weekend of rest and relaxation. A bit of a shame, as I had two different opportunities to do fun stuff tomorrow night. In discussion with hubby, we've agreed that pushing yourself is fine but not too hard. So no concerts or visits to beautiful gardens for me this weekend. Just gentle walks, meditation, bed, books and films. Just for a couple of days. Then up on Monday, hopefully with tip top platelets, and throat infection free! To get stuck into cycle 2. To get it over with. To let us all move on. 

Brain tumours are really very 'last year' now. Boring. I'd imagine all the family and friends who've stuck by my side are finding it all somewhat tedious now! Thank God for their ongoing patience!

As I hope for chemo to go ahead, I find myself becoming increasingly like Lady Macbeth (without the murder and guilt!)......... "Out damn spot", I imagine myself saying as I wash and sanitise my hands for the fourth  time in an hour..... There is hand sanitiser on a table at the front door and in strategic positions around the house....... I swear I see germs everywhere, picturing those old TV adverts that warn of how easy it is to spread bacteria. I even said the other day "catch it, bin it, kill it" after my poor husband (who has hay fever) dared to sneeze near me! My boys are quizzed about their hygiene regularly, and I can even now confirm that hazmat suits can be purchased on EBay........ Don't panic!! I looked it up as a joke........honest......... I'm exceptionally and rightly cautious, but I'm not at the Channel 4 documentary stage yet!

So let's see what Monday brings. If we're lucky, I'll be a third of the way through this bit in a couple of weeks time. If not, we'll just go back to the cave on Rathlin. Xxx

Good times!

In amongst the crap, there are so many good times! The past couple of weeks have been a bit up and down for a variety of reasons. None of them particularly major in the bigger scheme, but each one just placing a slightly heavier weight onto the shoulders. I'd been getting through each one fine, but anxiety levels were definitely raised a bit and it was taking genuine effort to keep everything level. I booked a wee emergency Reiki session in, just to give me a bit of help.

This morning I woke up really early, very shaky and heart thumping. I've woken up like that all week. It's been ages since I've felt like that so consistently. I've been managing it, but it's horrible. 

After my chemo setback on Tuesday I'd visited my doctor yesterday to get my mouth and throat checked (keep having problems with them), and to check about what all the blood test results actually mean. He was brilliant. Talking me through each one and providing some explanation and reassurance. I've been put on antibiotics again for my throat. It'll be good to get that shifted as it's making the back of my tongue and throat feel swollen....... uncomfortable and definitely not nice for someone who spent some of the early time in hospital convinced they were going have a seizure and choke on their own tongue..... (not possible apparently, but try telling that to a very scared girl). Anyway, as I was leaving the surgery I had one of my normal fortuitous turn of events, when I met a former work colleague who lives near me. Handy as I was about to book a taxi. He even stopped to get my prescription on the way! Good people all around.....

I felt pretty bad this morning. Truthfully I've been really fighting that throat infection, not letting myself admit I was feeling poorly. Having it confirmed I think allowed me to stop fighting it a bit and I decided it was acceptable to have a quiet day. But first.......... A-Level results! My son was due his so we were all up and ready for the big news. Maybe I just wasn't meant to do chemo this week, because if I had I wouldn't have been able to jump round the bedroom with my husband and son, crying and shouting for joy! Excellent results and into the course he wanted to study at Queens University. Happy, happy, happy!!

Next! Reiki. Although my spirits were high walking in, I was still feeling a bit poorly and was tired from all the whooping that had been done earlier!! As ever, my beautiful therapist got me completely calm and completely levelled out. As I was waiting for my taxi she asked me of my plans for the day. Shamelessly I admitted I was going to lie down to things a bit today and was going to get back into my jammies. Both her and another of her clients smilingly pointed out it was a beautiful day and I should consider making the most of it. This plan developed into a quite wonderful one whereby I would ask the taxi driver collecting me to take me for a cuppa in a lovely cafe near the beach, wait for me and bring me home! I gave my dad a quick call first, just in case he wanted to join me, but he was in the middle of his apartment block's residents group meeting (which I always imagine to be like the town meetings in The Vicar of Dibley!) 

"Here, this will probably sound a bit mad, but I've just been persuaded it'd be a great idea to head out to a cafe {quite far away} before going home. You up for it?? You'd have to wait for me. Tell you what, I'll even buy you a coffee. It'll be fun!" He was up for it but his controller was a cross lady who was shouting about cars' tanks not being filled by drivers. As I realised there was no way she'd agree (driver was equally cynical), I also remembered I had a tablet to take about 20 mins later.  Nah, best take me home.

Grand until I got home and realised how utterly boring I was being! I was so disappointed in myself. Had I learnt nothing? Grab life!! Hubby was at work and my son was off with his mates, though it's less fun when it doesn't feel a bit irresponsible anyway........ So I put out the call. Just to a couple of friends I felt I might just be able to persuade to get into a tiny bit of mischief on a sunny day! Whilst two felt the pull, one let it drag her in........

"The mole had been working very hard all the morning, spring cleaning his little home. First with brooms, then with dusters, then on ladders and steps and chairs, with a brush and a pail of whitewash...... It was small wonder, then, that he suddenly flung down his brush on the floor, said 'Bother!' and 'oh blow!' and also 'hang spring cleaning!' and bolted out of the house without even waiting to put on his coat".......(another one from Wind in the Willows by Kenneth Grahame)

And so my wonderful friend appeared! Having abandoned what she was doing and apologising for her clothing (looked fine to me but seems they were 'cleaning clothes') And off we went, adventuring. We drove out to the fabulous cafe that had been recommended, The Bothy overlooking White Park Bay. I appreciate that eating broccoli soup perhaps doesn't seem like the biggest rebellion in the world....... but it was the spontaneous act of just roping someone in and doing our own thing. An afternoon spent in good company, not thinking about much else at all, just the good time we were having. I didn't look at my watch once and the only phone contact I made was with hubby (just to be sure search party wasn't sent out). 

I know I have a million, sickening, positives that I keep harping on about, but.......... another good thing to have come out of a terrible time, is that you should DO more! Don't always be shackled by the 9-5. Yes, we need to work and bills need paid. If you're lucky you'll get a job that you love, like I have. It doesn't mean you can't be a bit irresponsible sometimes. Not quite the literally genius that Kenneth Grahame was (and it's probably sacrilege to have their names in the same paragraph), but as Sebastian Bach (formerly of rock band Skid Row) told us;

"Can't be king of the world if you're slave to the grind"

As a note of caution, he also said;

"Shake, shake, shake it like a rattlesnake
Boom, boom baby out go the lights
Shake, shake, shake it like a rattlesnake
Staying up late doing the rattlesnake shake"

So you don't always need to take him too literally....... Regardless, I think the message is clear........ live a bit! Sometimes it's ok to just grab a friend and say "Come on!" And yet again I'm reminded of my Support Network and the family and friends that have held me up from day one. What a wonderful day! Xxx

Kickin.......

As my sister walked into my house this morning, I was delighted as ever. That wee happy face! Selflessly bouncing back and forth from Manchester as needed. We had a quick catch up and then I was packing up my wee rucksack for my day up in Belfast to start chemo cycle 2.  Like a schoolgirl off to behave herself and sit at peace.

"I have a note in my diary to just ring the hospital and check everything before we set off...." and so I lifted the phone........ to be told my platelets are too low for another chemo cycle just yet. Although I fully understand it's not anyone's fault, it was like getting a kicking. I was ready. Mentally and physically. This was another bit dealt with. I had made plans around the cycle dates. I was looking forward to stuff. Not starting today messes everything up. Tears? Yes.... one or two. Quite a few really. It felt unfair. In a childish way I guess sometimes I feel like I'm doing everything I'm being told to do, but then every so often the goal posts get moved. I'd expect that's how most people going through cancer treatment, or living with cancer, feel. It's always changing. Things are fluid. It's easy to say you're fine with that, but the reality is that we all get unsettled by change, especially when it's constant and unpredictable. So I had a good cry. I despaired of the unfairness of it all. I thought about all the things I'd planned that now couldn't happen. 

And then I realised that I could cry all I wanted. It wasn't going to change my platelet levels! I do find it slightly amusing that no-one can get blood out of me, yet I can't have chemo because if I were to cut myself now it wouldn't stop bleeding........ irony. So, I started to pick up the fight again. I meditated, just to get me breathing and take the edge off. Then I had an idea. Tuesday morning is my Cancer Keep Fit class........nothing to stop me going now. I grabbed sis (who never needs much persuading anyway!) and told her "You know what we're going to do now?? We're going to Cancer Keep Fit class. And then we're going out for lunch. After that I need to call into the doctors to make an appointment about my sore mouth, and to arrange for a wee game of Gone Digging on Monday again. (I have requested 'my bloods guy' and will plague a few times before Monday).  After that there's a few things I need at Sainsbury's." 

And off we set. Leaving the riverbank and heading into the Wild Wood....... we went to keep fit and laughed with fellow warriors. Then we went for lunch. I chose a place I haven't been in ages. I used to regularly visit with my dad when I was working locally. Having moved to Belfast, I haven't had much opportunity to visit of late. I went in and the owners asked how I was doing. The headband always gives me away so I tend to just blurt it out. Imagine my surprise when they told me their mother was battling a brain tumour? A bit different from mine and different treatment plan, but six years later this warrior, who is significantly older than me, is still around. A positive family. So much so that our drinks (of water) were brought down with straws in them so we could 'pretend they're cocktails and you're [we're] on a beach somewhere!" Such a sweet gesture that it brought a tear to my eye. Yet another lovely person who I've either met along the way, or seen in a different light. 

So tonight I am relaxing. Enjoying the time I still get with my big sis. Pulling out the positives..... most of all just 'calming my jets'! I can't change this. There's nothing I can do at all. I can stress out about it and make myself feel awful. Or I can accept that these setbacks come. I can remind myself nothing has really changed...... I just get to delay feeling like complete crap for at least another week. Dead on. I'll make the most of this week then. Enjoy the fact that I've an unexpected, extra week of feeling a bit better. Son gets A-Level results on Thursday, so it'll be nice to hear them and be able to stay awake to talk to him! 

Meant to be. I'm not totally cool about it, of course I'm not. It's upset me, but I'm ok. My body isn't ready for cycle 2. In the bigger scheme it's a week or two. And isn't it better for them to be cautious, rather than battering on and having me bleed like a stuck pig from a paper cut?? Xxx

Let's do it.....

Chemo cycle 2 starts tomorrow. 10 days and then I'll be a third of the way through this bit...... time flies when you're fighting a brain tumour huh?!

I had to get bloods taken this morning. I've become strict about this, after realising how many Gone Digging players there are out there...... I have my guy. He does it. Hopefully it should've been the last time today as I'm due to get a PICC line fitted tomorrow..... a tap of sorts. 

I was nervous waiting for my guy this morning. Although I had checked and double checked and felt confident in the most recent person I'd spoken to, I also know how easy it is for things not to be joined up. 

We get up at 6.15am, so it felt like a lifetime until there came a knock at the door. I'd been out for my morning walk, had meditated, read for a bit..... it wasn't very long, but I was slowly building myself up inside. What if he doesn't turn up??what if he can't get a vein and stops being my guy?? Knock, knock, knock. Ah, thank god! But wait, hold on..... who is this female nurse?? You're not my guy. I'm a little ashamed to say I let her stand on my doorstep as I eyed her, deciding what to do next..... I told her i was expecting someone else and she politely explained he was off. Off?? OFF???? No, I whined inside, I need him.

Think, think, think. Logically, refusing her entry made no sense. The bloods need taken today. If not, my chemo schedule would be knocked off. Diva or zen?? Why zen of course!! Please come in. No talk of bad veins, don't make the poor girl nervous. The crappiness of the hand she was dealt was spotted straight away, but she didn't fuss. Just commented my veins were bad. I told her I had confidence in her and I knew she was going to get it first time. In reality I was spiralling into an internal panic, but I did a bit of deep breathing and told myself a couple of bad experiences doesn't suddenly mean you'll never meet another nurse who can take blood! In fact I've met quite a lot who can. 

This poor nurse was only covering staff shortage had clearly been given a really bum deal! I was literally willing her to get it. GO DIG!! I'll deal you as good a hand as I possibly can, I promise! I've been wrapped up all morning and have drunk more water than a camel who's just stumbled across an oasis in the Sahara....... GO. DIG. Boom!! Not quite a royal flush, but certainly a winning hand that included face cards. Quick, fuss free, done. She took my little vial and headed off...... likely to visit some cantankerous old cow that throws things at nurses who call to her door...... or the guy with the Alsatian called Fluffy who's 'bark is worse than his bite. Honest.' Perhaps her day even ended with a visit to a hardware shop to get tartan paint and a long stand?......  Fair play to her though. Unphased by the initial hard stare, followed by the crap veins.  

Hopefully that's us all set for cycle 2 tomorrow. I'm weirdly a little excited...... partly because it's another bit done, but mostly because I get time with my sister. That's always good, regardless of circumstances. Plus later this morning was spent in what I hope becomes a traditional pre chemo catch up with my inner circle girls. The ones who help keep me calm, make me laugh and support me. They kept me calm before cycle one and appear to have achieved the same ahead of cycle two. 

Onwards into the breach...... Let's get another bit done. As my son just said to me "the journey of a thousand miles starts with one step...... And all that....... you know??!" Xxx

Every cloud......

I know I've said it from the start and am like a broken record, but sometimes a trauma can open your eyes to the beautiful people all around you.  People can surprise you with kindness and depth and they inevitably appear exactly when you need them.

I had a couple of stresses early this week but each one was lifted by good, positive people. This help ranged from happy visits from people I love, messages of complete support and faith in me, a massive bunch of flowers, shared laughs, to meeting and enjoying time with strangers who were wonderful company. 

One of the main reasons I plucked up the courage to share my Garden Across the Road story was because the Garden owner asked if she could. Combined with a couple of friends who had been telling me to do the same thing, I plucked up a bit of courage and posted it on the blog. It ended up feeling good. Like I didn't need to be self conscious and could just let my creative side run free. It didn't have to be a literary masterpiece, so long as it was from the heart. Quite liberating really. 

In response tor sharing, that wonderful lady sent me a poem!! Her writing is far better than mine and Dorothy Jones is someone I'm really glad I've recently met. I don't normally name anyone, but I have to give her credit for her beautiful poem, plus I know she had originally tried to post it as a comment on the blog but had been beaten by technology. Earlier today hubby and I visited her garden again. It was as beautiful and peaceful as I remembered. And to finish off a wonderful walk, we then sat with her, her friends and family and enjoyed a good old chat. I'm good at  chat....... we know this....... no change!...... For me, this was far more than a chat with strangers. This was a relaxed conversation with warm kindred spirits. Uncomplicated, just chat, yet with depth as well. I very much enjoyed the whole thing...... good for the soul!! So here is Dorothy's beautiful poem........   I only cried a tiny bit...... honest........ 

And so it rained outside and in

Through all life's noise

The silence crash and din

Spring is here with hope a-new

With relentless drive 

And energy too.

Reliable vigour and vital cheer

To help us see over

Our worries and fear.

Shaking off the shackles

As someone who's been off work for 6 months and been somewhat traumatised quite a few times now, I'm doing pretty damned well! It's not a journey I'd relish walking alone, but thankfully I haven't had to. Writing has become a big 'thing' for me. Those who engage with my page long texts will know that!! In fact, those that have stuck with the blog will know it! Writing allows me to get things out. Sometimes I jump in and write before I think, but that's a lesson I'm learning. I've been guilty of a few 'fight the system' style rants........ but sure I always was!! 

At other times 'instinctive writing' can be a good thing. I have been doing a bit of more creative writing, particularly in relation to peaceful places in nature where I've found relaxation, and also my journey so far (a bit of a blog tidy I guess). I could make this a hugely long and boring story, but I'll cut it down! I wrote a short story about a beautiful place I'd been. I sent it to some friends who said they loved it and gave me amazing encouragement to share it. I felt wick, as you often do with stuff like this, but eventually plucked up the courage to send it to the lady who owns and created the place of written about. She was given strict instructions there were to be no 'sympathy likes' but I had a feeling, having met her, that she'd appreciate it. She did. She said it gave her goosebumps and asked to share it more widely. I felt wick again, but then remembered that the only thing holding me back was what other people might think or say. Then I remembered the only thing that has changed about me really is a slightly battered self esteem mixed with an ability to shake off negativity and be surrounded by positive, along with a slight "f*ck it" attitude. Not an entirely bad way to be!! Much the same as I was before, I've just to put some energy into it now, in order to keep myself well. 

Two different people 'directed' me to do this, so here goes........ definitely no piece of creative genius, but very much written from the heart. I'm more proud of the fact that I've broken off the shackles of caring too much about the negative attitudes in the world. I wrote this. It's far from amazing, but I did it and then I took the encouragement from people who care about me, and I threw it out there.  

I hope you like it. 

*takes really deep breath and hits paste* Xxx

NB. Intended to be relaxing. Do not read while driving or operating heavy machinery.....

The Garden Across the Road

The area of Connor and Kells, near Ballymena in Northern Ireland, is believed to have been the location of both an abbey and monastery, dating back to Viking times.  The monastery is said to be a deeply significant site to the Roman Catholic church and, in 1171 became the final resting place of Diarmaid, a King of Leinster. Saint Mac Nissi, reputed to have been baptised by Saint Patrick, is said to have used the area as a retreat.  Nowadays the two small villages have a population of little more than 2,000 people and are made up largely of farms and rural homes.

One of these homes holds a hidden gem.  A garden.  Not one that is landscaped or manicured.  Rather one where nature has been allowed main control, then tended to with love and creativity.  Full of wild flowers and items that have been placed there to be claimed by nature, like old bicycles and row boats.  Full of flowers and good energy.

Across the road is another garden, hence the name of this wedding venue, ‘The Garden Across the Road’.  This part is even more delightful.  Fairy houses, jam jars containing small bouquets of flowers or tealights, slates with words of wisdom such as “If you cannot look on the bright side, then I will sit with you in the dark.”  It is calm and tranquil.  The sort of place a person could sit all day, just soaking it all up.  An enchanted place.  Every corner turned reveals a new sight to be appreciated.  

There is copse of trees, with a path meandering through, leading to an open area of flattened grass.  A woodland oasis, to lie in the sun and watch clouds float by.

There is a lake, with various crossing points provided by simple wooden bridges.  A variety of places invite you to sit and watch the water; from logs to wooden benches.  There is even a papier mache sofa, painted pink……. probably by fairies.  Best of all, on the lake is a boat.  Tied to a wooden jetty, it is a simple wooden fishing boat, painted blue on the outside and white on the inside.  Exactly like Ratty’s boat in The Wind in the Willows. I am quite sure that if you sit watching it long enough a variety of characters will appear from out of the ‘Wild Wood’ and jump on board for a day ‘messing about’ on the water.

The Garden Across the Road is a special place.  A place where I would be no more surprised by a fox crossing my path than a pixie.  A place where problems disappear and inner strength is gathered and dreams are nurtured.

Dreams... asleep and day

I have a lot of daydreams, as we all do. Mine tend to be simpler now........ i used to daydream about being promoted at work, having a massive windfall of cash so I'd never have to budget again, getting front row at all the best gigs. 

Now I daydream of getting back to work again. I dream of feeling sharper and not having to concentrate so hard. I dream of being able to completely trust my body again. I dream of being like my old self (in terms of health, but carrying with me the lessons learnt and friends gained through my cancer journey so far), I  dream of getting back out to gigs, I dream of an end to all seizures no matter how unnoticeable they may be to others, i dream of trips to beautiful relaxing places, I dream of a completely clear scan (somebody's got to be the miracle, right? I want to be the story people tell to reassure others...... "you'll be ok. I once knew a girl and she was told hers couldn't be completely removed but then a scan showed it had been. That was 30 years ago!" I want to be like the stories people tell me) I dream of reclaiming my car from my son, I even boldly dream of publishing a book. 

Many of those dreams could come true. I manage my expectations, but I also push myself to ensure those dreams don't slip out of my reach simply because I let them.

I also have a lot of sleeping dreams. These can be even more random than my daydreams. Sometimes they're lovely....... wandering through lavender fields. A friend discovering a cure for all chemo side effects and rushing it to my door.  

Sometimes they're not so lovely....... This morning I had a few extra hours, after a very unsettled night again. On waking it took me a minute to register three of my female work colleagues weren't here staying. I'd dreamt of the four of us sitting on my bed, sharing laughs. Something akin to the sleepover in Grease (a reference that may only be understood by female and possibly male readers over a certain age!) In the midst of all this frivolity I was giving my son a really hard time over what shoes he was wearing to work and a general lack of organisation around things he needed to do. This one is probably something of a guilt dream, as my son and I have sniped at each other a bit this week. Fairly unusual but definitely not something we should be wasting time doing. Message received and understood BFG......

Yesterday morning I would've sworn blind I'd been up three or four times through the night being sick. I vividly remembered it, but hubby was sure there was no way it could've happened. He was sure he'd have wakened. I'm not so sure of that, but I'm pretty convinced I would've shaken him awake to share my discomfort and fear. One up, everybody up! Why suffer alone?? It seems he was right....... there was more evidence. I sleep with a small, shiny basin beside the bed! I've used it once, but a wise ambulance driver once told me  'better looking at it than for it'. It remained exactly where it had been when I went to sleep. Complete with the bit of fluff that had been in it for days, but that I finally removed yesterday! Still plenty of water in my water bottle. The en suite was spotless. No questionable odours or splashes. No handprints on the floor. Still plenty of toilet roll and full pack of tissues on bedside table. My toothbrush was bone dry.....even though I distinctly remembered brushing my teeth recently before. After a bit of persuading and listening to the logical side of my brain, I realised it was just possible I'd dreamt I was sick, rather than it actually happening. It was exceptionally vivid and horribly unpleasant, but better than it actually happening!! 

Having said all that, I could have made that dream reality last night  as I polished off a dirty McDonalds....... Don't judge me! I've lost weight and am now under 9 stone, it was hubby's birthday, and I was always partial..... I've had a few sneaky McD's over the past 6 months but steered well clear of Chinese and I even checked the ingredients online prior to final decision. I'm still allowed the odd treat! Without scudding myself........ it's after 10am the next day and it's still down......digested by now surely??......

My other big excitement of yesterday was getting a second opinion about my eyes. I decided it would be worth paying for a local optician to give my eyes a good check, rather than totally trusting the big multinational I went to years ago because they were cheaper. Thankfully my local optician didn't hold it against me as I skulked back, tail between my legs. A very thorough check showed no damage to the optic nerve and everything as it should be, including peripheral vision. The only issue appears to be that I'm getting a bit older...... my short sightedness is now mixing with long sightedness. I'm possibly just more aware of it now as I'm doing more reading and am very sensitive to any changes in anything really. I can live with getting older..... in fact I positively welcome it please! When I was first diagnosed I had someone text me a 'sympathy text', which included reference to her family member has a brain tumour and is now blind. Helpful. Positive. I seem to remember telling Radiotherapy Unit staff, and adding "don't you dare take my sight, I couldn't be listening to it if I'm proved wrong for being cross about that!!" They laughed, told me they knew what they were doing and were very careful. I'm glad they were! Again, I hesitated in saying that in case I scud myself....... Then I remembered that if I'd been scared to say anything positive that happens, this would be the most miserable blog in the world! Boring sometimes, I'll take. Miserable and negative, nah not taking that one.

Having said that, in the interests of honestly and letting people know they're not alone, this week has been a rough one. My ability to deal with stressful situations has reduced, and I have to be careful to just remove myself sometimes.  Nothing that's happened this week has been serious. Stuff we all deal with every day. As always I'm trying to do that again. Reminding myself that little things aren't worth getting uptight over. It's taking time and I'd imagine it'll happen again. What I also know is that getting myself into a tizz makes me worse. It gives me headaches, leads to absence seizures. It makes it hard to motivate to get up and jump into the day. It makes it harder to sleep........and so it goes round in a circle......  The old, slightly stressy Trish keeps trying to nudge her way back in. I'm trying to welcome her tenacity and ability to get things done, whilst pushing away the bit that leads to feeling anxious. My fears have changed somewhat, but I'm still full of fears. I used to live with constant fear of another seizure, of being told it's spread, of being told there's nothing more they can do, of imminent death. Now I live with far from constant, but come out every so often, fears centred round things like treatments being postponed due to a mess up with bloods, and bad news from scans. I still have to have a wee fight almost daily against these fears. There's nothing I can do about them really. I've taken a bit of control around ensuring appts etc are all sorted. I'm going to end up 'one of those' callers...... one of the ones everyone fights to avoid. I dealt with some at work, the way anyone working in the public sector does. I always tried to show kindness and attention because I usually found the worst offenders either had significant mental health problems or were older and often lonely. There were exceptions to this rule of course, but when the shout came over to me "That's one of yours", I generally didn't avoid the call or letter and tried to listen with patience, genuinely believing everyone has a right to be heard. And often that's all they wanted..... to be heard. I'm hoping good karma/ energies/ heavenly reward will ensure I get the same treatment. It seems to be working so far. I try to stay pleasant and mostly find people are good, and will be nice to you if you're nice to them. Plus nobody really goes out to make things harder for you in this situation, in fact there are very many who do exactly the opposite.

Thank God for the funny friends! Through the rough week emotionally, and at times physically, there has always been a joker there to make me laugh! And a husband to go for walks with me..... and cook my dinner........ and make me laugh....... Patience of a bloody saint!!!!

A hideously long blog...... again....... A person who always has huge amounts to say really shouldn't be allowed to get bored........ Don't worry, there are plans afoot......... within my capabilities...... Xxx

Redemption

I feel like a broken record, but........ it's definitely people that make a difference. If people help you and reassure you then my days are so much easier and I feel so much better. That's probably horribly reflective of the battering your self esteem and self worth takes during a time like this. Validate me, reassure me, validate me!! I have never been so sensitive and delicate in my entire life! 

The disadvantage of this sensitivity is an ability to burst into tears when looked at the wrong way ("they feel sorry for me"), mild paranoia (usually connected to feeling like a burden/chore or a duty, or a feeling of being patronised) and catastrophising (my bloods won't get done on the right day, my treatment won't get done, my sister will have travelled over for nothing, my life is going to be on hold for even longer). 

On the other side, this sensitivity has allowed me to see the best in people, to open my heart and not be afraid of telling people how I feel about them. This ranges from telling dear friends every time I see them that I love them, through to almost crying when the Surgery rang me to reassure me about the bloods being organised for the right day and with the right nurse. Proof again that I'd got myself into a bit of a state over nothing....... The control freak just hasn't quite learnt how to trust others charged with my care....... The woman I spoke to from the surgery today allayed all my fears. Reassuring me it was absolutely understandable to want to be sure everything was arranged, efficiently took charge and then rang me back to confirm everything that had been done. What a difference it makes. Complete redemption. Although, in fairness, I probably hadn't really given them a chance before I got myself into a flap...... it is undoubtedly though the people like this that make things easier.

I'm trying desperately to hold onto the good aspects of the sensitivity, whilst taming the negative aspects. The 'happy drunk' can stay..... "I love you, no but I REALLY love you!" "I've always liked you. Now I know why." "I like you. You've got a good vibe to you" (usually to people only recently met...... doctors, receptionists, nurses and anyone else that crosses my path that I decide I like!) That type of sensitivity is ok..... hopefully somewhat endearing, completely heartfelt and sincere, and hopefully spreading a bit of love about. 

The more negative aspects are the bits I'm working on. These are personality traits that I've always had I believe...... In particular, the "I'm not good enough..... undeserving" trait is one that needs kicked to the kerb. The other big area I'm working on is the 'calm the f*ck down' area.......!! My sister tells me off for this...... "You've jumped way ahead. You're writing a whole story without all the facts. You're way ahead of yourself." Now I'm trying to take a breath, and remind myself it'll be ok regardless. I'm getting better, though it's far from being mastered! I often have to quite literally talk myself down....... or introduce relaxation methods like meditation, breathing exercises or just reading a book. Mastering this is the only way I'll be able to get my life completely back.

The other big thing I'm trying to do at the moment is remind myself everything doesn't need to be on hold until the end of chemo, or indeed for the rest of my life. There are some things I just wouldn't be capable of yet, or be interested in doing. Going to a gig seems a long way off, but not as long as it once did. I had really hoped to be reintroduced to the music world..... Foy Vance at Custom House Square was a goal...... he's not too loud, it's outdoors, it wouldn't be too crowded with people I know. Unfortunately it's fallen within days of a chemo cycle so just isn't feasible. My next small goal (though I set these hesitantly for fear of putting pressure on myself) is Ryan Adams. We already have tickets for this one. Again, he's not generally too noisy, it's Ulster Hall and we have seats....... we'll see. No pressure, but a vague goal.  Aside from gigs, what else makes up my life?? I'm hoping to go back to work in a very gentle capacity. And I've a couple of reserve ideas for if that doesn't happen. The important thing is that my brain keeps getting used. My consultant warned of the dangers of sitting at home, stagnating..... doesn't appeal to me. Plus I get bored and I need to get s better daily routine. I've always kept up a bit of walking (I'm not quite West Highland Way fit again, but over time....), I still read (although, looking back, there was a long time when even that took too much concentration..... it's when I remember stuff like that when I see how much progress has been made). Seeing friends has become an even bigger aspect to my life, and it's nice to have time to do it. I've got to know people better and formed bonds. I'm enjoying that. 

Yes, my life is coming back. It's a slow, painful process, fighting ever changing physical and mental battles, but it's getting there. Nine months of chemo is too long to lie down completely. Especially not when I've lost so much time to all the other treatments and shock. 

I'm 42 years old. I've got limitations, but I'm neither lazy or stupid. I'm not miserable and I don't intend to become so. Like anyone with a serious illness there are a lot of daily battles, but every success pushes me onwards. Thankfully my support network remains incredible. I have to keep a diary, I've so many visitors etc! Not something to complain about! Xxx

Urgent party.....

Seems the party to introduce everyone might need to be brought forward and happen more urgently than intended........ Ive spent hours over the past few days trying to sort out making sure the right bloods are done at the right time and by the right person. I accept I'm possibly being a little demanding with saying I would like a particular nurse to take them....... but when you've fallen foul of Gone Digging as many times as I have then you learn to keep your chips safe....... 

I suspect though that it shouldn't really be the patient ringing the oncology Ward to check what bloods the GP's surgery needs to take. I also suspect the patient shouldn't have to feel like a demanding diva because she has to beg for a particular nurse to take her bloods, due to agony inflicted by others. 

I also suspect you shouldn't have to physically feel stress levels rising because you don't trust the competence of some of the places that are tasked with keeping you safe and well, and because you waited all afternoon for a promised call back to ensure you are booked in to get the bloods you need to get done.  I'm sure it'll all work out and be grand, but what may be routine to some often has a huge impact on the patient and family.

I am supposed to have bloods done the day before my next treatment. It has to be the day before. The results determine whether I get my picc line in and whether I get my treatment that day or not. Pretty big deal to me. Especially when my sister's flights are booked for her to come over and be with me for chemo again. I have had to phone oncology myself and get a list of what bloods need taken. I have yet to get confirmation from my surgery that I'm booked in to get these taken and that my 'bloods guy' (the only one who can get blood without either using 10 veins, of leaving me looking like I've had my arm stood on by a very heavy person) will be the one to do it. Slightly demanding? Yes, probably. Hugely important to me? Yes, definitely. 

These things could be so easily sorted. Instead, I'm left stressed and with a pumping headache (granted, not helped by the thundery weather....... gah!) I'm Thunderstruck. 

Ah, such a long blog..... and so negative. Taking the good out...... I'm dealing with it. This is the real world. Be it dealing with a cheeky person in a shop, trying to pay a bill online, trying not to get upset over something on the news or trying to organise getting bloods taken.......these are things that the real world throw at you. I can't keep anxiety down by just not poking my head out into anything stressful. There are going to be annoyances and rows and hurt....... I'm getting so much better at dealing with all that stuff now. That means I'm getting stronger. Some of it I shouldn't have to think about, and it makes me cross that I'm having to, but the fact is that I'm doing it.

Mentally stronger. And physically it seems I'm doing ok too! Sometimes I get really tired and I definitely need recallibrated..... to the right, to the right, everything you own in the box to the right........ Beyonce?? Anyone?? She went to the left, I tend to go the right.....But I went to my Cancer Keep Fit class today and had my 'excellent level of fitness' confirmed..... I didn't have that before for f*ck's sake!! I suspect the bar was being set very low. Designed for cancer patients undergoing treatment, the class is a great way to get a bit of physical activity, whilst meeting others on their own journey. I enjoyed it thoroughly. I did take a friend with me this time...... I would imagine there was much debate about who was who's carer!! Physically she's obviously in a much better place, but mentally....... she makes me seem completely sane!....... which is partly why we've always been friends!! She makes me laugh. Anything goes. A friendship with depth and understanding. Someone I can be myself with completely. Someone I have cried with. Someone who is by my side unconditionally. My surrogate sister, especially lovely when my own can't be here. Someone to laugh with, often to the point of hysteria. 

My point in this hideously long rambling?? I'm hugely frustrated by the lack of a joined up approach in our Health Service, but I'm getting stronger all the time, in every way. Thunder storms are the ENEMY of people with brain tumours. Oh, and you'll never beat the love of good friends and family to help you through tough times.

I suspect I may have made those points before......... but now they're off my chest again. Xxx