It’s been a little while since I sat down at my keyboard and I must say, I feel rather disappointed. I was raring to go in the beginning, I couldn’t wait to create a sounding board for this journey, tackling the trials and tribulations of cancer as they happened, maybe even finding some other cancer chums to laugh about it all with along the way. I had a plan and everything; I would tell the story from the beginning, like a really passionate and detailed memoir, and it would be polished and utterly flawless – but recently I realised it’d just be one enormous shiny turd. Over the past week I’ve started to notice some of the psychological impacts of cancer creeping up on me. Previously, when I’d left hospital for the first time in 19 days after my initial admission, my thought was ‘excellent, only up from here!’ and I love that about my brain, I really do. I’d just been through the worst three weeks of my life and somehow, somewhere within my cranium was a part of my brain that was holding up a hand-painted banner with ‘you can do it!’ written across it. It seems fitting that I was so optimistic, despite looking a little worse for wear after my impromptu hospital holiday, I actually felt a thousand times better.
An awful lot had taken place during that first three weeks; from laying topless and crying in A&E, to clocking the concerned face of my ultrasound technician during my internal scan. From being told I had cancer by a woman who had two sons of a similar age to me, to having a breakdown during my MRI scan because all I could think about was how I was going to die. From telling my friends and sister, to having my mum break the news to my dad. From having small samples of tumour taken from my ovary, to laying still whilst a piece of bone was cut away from my pelvis. From having a tube inserted through my nose to my stomach, to having an internal line fitted from my arm to my chest. From undergoing a PET scan to see the full extent of my disease, to losing a stone in weight and having to retrain my legs to move again. From knowing nothing about cancer or the treatment of it, to undergoing my first round of chemotherapy. It had been eventful to say the least.
And there I was, fresh out of hospital, convinced the next six months would be a breeze in comparison to what I’d just endured. Since that day I’ve had two more rounds of chemo, each consisting of a week’s worth of treatment as an inpatient. I’ve also spent a further five days in hospital for a different type of chemo which is given after every second round, and on the 13th October I was taken to A&E by ambulance, resulting in another four day stay. All in all, it has started to feel a little like I live at QA Hospital, and in the last few days it has all become a bit too much. I had barely cried at all during my initial stay, and now, a little over a month later, I find myself crying all the time.
So what can I do about that? Well, it’s Monday 5th November, my favourite season is in full swing, I’m undergoing life saving treatment, I’m now home for a couple of weeks AND I’m having a curry tonight – so I must keep reminding myself that it’s not all bad. In terms of the blog, I was angry at myself for abandoning it for such a spell and I was pissed that I didn’t have the motivation to write anything of worth. I wanted it to be beautifully written, chronologically laid out, always witty – but sometimes cancer doesn’t allow for any of these things, and I already feel so much lighter in recognising and accepting that. I will eventually get round to telling the final segment of my journey to diagnosis one day – but let’s face it, we all know I have cancer, it’s no longer a shock. What I want now, though, is for this to be an honest and unfiltered representation of living with cancer in your mid-twenties, whilst hopefully still being entertaining!
I have a pretty extensive list of things I’d like to write about, but I would love some inspiration in the form of some questions/topics I may not have thought about myself. On the menu bar at the top of this page you should be able to see an ‘Ask Me’ tab – if you click there you’ll be brought to a page that asks for your name and question/comment. You can do this anonymously by using a pseudonym in the name box if you wish. These get sent directly to my email and can’t be posted onto the site.
See you all very soon!
Oh yes, and if none of this makes sense, I’ve had a wine!