Re-Cap....

So its been a while since I've had the pleasure of updating the blog - the kids, life, and the big C is somewhat consuming, unfortunately.

So where am I in terms of treatment? still on chemo, still enduring the daily task of dealing with side effects and having to manage 3 kids. It's not easy, I wish I could say it was but its really not.

Alongside the 'standard' side effects: sickness, diarrhoea, stomach cramps, sore feet and hands, the one that it almost too hard to describe is the bone crushing tiredness and fatigue. It's not even a sleep tiredness, my body physically hurt and just wants to lay still... for a long time. Of course with daily life, that type of rest doesn't happen all that often.

How long is this treatment going to carry on for? at least until July where surgery is imminent, however several bone issues a re causing me some kind of headaches of which I shall find out cause and prognosis in due time.

Home life? well, we are still staying in temporary accommodation until the house we purchased is habitable. It was an old house that was lived in by an old couple for over 40 years so as you can imagine not alot of work was done, enter us. Its a long process making sure everything is safe for a family to move into, a process that being done on one income is hard but where there's a will, there's a way.

The kids... well, they are still so absolutely crazy and gorgeous. Liv is 4 and well and truly settled into school life albeit some issues with friendship groups. She is still the most sweetest, kindest and thoughtful girl she always was. Paige is 2 going on 22 and is a force to be reckoned with although despite the hard exterior there is some serious love going on there. Carter is now 17 months old - can you believe it? He is still a mummies boy and clings to me for dear life pretty much 15 hours a day, but he is a loveable rogue. He has massive hands that remind me of Wreck it Ralph and a mullet that would easily win some awards.

All in all we are ok, cos we have to be. I've never tried to pretend that the cancer journey is easy, I'm not one of these people that is overly positive, because you know what it aint all sweetness and light. I have days that are really positive and days where I can't be arsed to fix that smile on my face - but that my friends, is just life.

Can you ever be thankful for Cancer?

If you had asked me the above question back in February, I probably wouldve laughed in your face and drop kicked you at the same time: Thankful for cancer? What kind of sick planet are you living on? Fast forward until now and what is my answer?

Yes - I am absolutely thankful.

Cancer is probably the most bitter and twisted double edged sword I think Ive ever come across. I hate what it has done to my body, relationships and my childrens anxieties. I however, love the diagnosis because for once I finally feel like I know what happiness, love and fulfilment really is. 

I have always been materialistic to a certain extent - always wanting to look good, to give off a good impression, spending far too long worrying about what everyone else thinks of me. Worrying about my hair, my skin, my clothes, conforming to 'fit in'. Spending money like its water on insignificant items. Abusing my body with yoyo dieting, binge drinking and allowing myself to burn the candle at both ends. Wasting time and energy on non-existent relationships that brought me nothing but sorrow, anguish and upset. Not fulfilling myself, my dreams and my aspirations and just 'making do'

But in just one sentence my alternate reality changed. Hearing "I'm so sorry but it is Cancer" is not something you really EVER want to hear, but this was, and I truly believe it, my slap in the face. Who gives a flying fcuk how much money you have. How big your house is, how nice your car drives or what the hell you're wearing - JUST BE YOU. The stark reality is, if you don't have your health, love or family and friends then you really have to worry.

I have come to find out alot about myself - I'm probably not as damaged as I have always believed: of course, I am not perfect in any sense of the word, but I'm not too shabby a person. I love fiercely and again this isn't a bad thing. I am loyal and passionate. I would run to the ends of the earth and give my life for my children. I have also realised I'm strong when I want to be. The amount of times throughout all of this I have wanted to stop and I haven't proves this. 

I see things clearer ( I have a long way to go mind) and I appreciate the teeny tiny things alot more, I dont stress the small stuff and have a particularly annoying habit of saying "lifes too short" but overall I think my viewpoint has changed significantly and ultimately, despite suffering from some pretty nasty side effects on treatment, this all pales into insignificance when I really think about whats important and why I am doing it - so thank you Cancer for opening my eyes.

Hairy beginnings

So, I can just about, JUST, run my fingers through my teeny tiny hairs. It's an actual revelation. The hairs are roughly 10mm long BUT there is definite fuzz to run my chipolatas through.

6 months of having a cold head, 6 months of going to run my fingers through my hair to realise there is nothing there, 6 months of hating the way I looked, 6 months of wearing scarves with the odd wig thrown in, 6 months of sweating from what feels like only my head, 6 months of my kids asking me why I have no hair, 6 months of looks and stares from those around me, 6 months of no hair.

Its been a really long 6 months I'm not going to lie. I'll be straight up, it was my choice not to cold cap whilst going through chemo as I knew there was still a huge chance I could lose my hair anyway and yes I didn't have very long hair anyway, however it doesn't make one bit of difference to how utterly traumatic it is to suddenly see your hair coming out in your hands in clumps, everytime you shake your head you have a lap of hair, or worry that if a gust of wind should happen that your hair will quite literally FLY OFF (no joke) The trouble with having no hair is well, you look ill. If I had kept all my hair I'm pretty sure alot less people would've realised or thought that actually I'm unwell and having treatment. It was like a big cancer beacon "look at me I'm bald, I have cancer" and it would be incredible difficult to hide: either go out with your potato head on show, or wear a scarf and look REALLY obviously a cancer patient, or wear a wig and live in fear that one of my children might pull it off my head.

However, now I have the teeny tiniest amount of hair coming through I look normal. Just like joe blogs.. a woman with very short hair. Its a weird concept, right now I look healthy, and err, dare I say it, normal. I certainly do not look like I still have a body with cancer in it, nor do I look like I am receiving treatment for it - I just look like I shaved my head. Don't get me wrong, that's not necessary a bad thing, but for me, after spending these 6 months having not one morsel of a hair on my skull its an incredibly alien thing for me. I now have to explain to people that I cant make too many plans because I don't know how I'm going to feel on chemo, that actually my tit still hurts post BREAST CANCER SURGERY, and that actually I just feel sodding tired and yes, I am in my pjs at 3pm in the afternoon. Having no hair, as shitty as it was, provided me with a get out of anything card because it was so darn obvious I was unwell, and dare I say it, I became ok with that - I didn't have to gulp down the tears whilst I once again tell someone I have cancer. My little bald-safety net has disappeared.

Whilst I attempt to get used to finally having a head covering and starting to feel warmer, I will have to change my way of thinking, changing my mindset now is a hard task and as much as I want to be that healthy/normal looking girl, I'm really not.

Remember: Cancer doesnt have a 'look'

A cuppa tea and TERRANCE

So, it has been a sodding long time since I've blogged. I mean, I've had anther baby,the beautiful baby boy carter, I've been in hospital with him being seriously poorly, and I've been manically busy trying to find some sort of rhythm with my gorgeous brood. And of course when things JUST settle down....I find I have cancer.

No seriously I'm not even shitting you. CANCER

Like...what?!!?! I cant even believe I'm typing that but here I am.

I wont bore u with all the teeny details so here is a very quick fire round of what happened: just before Christmas 2018 when I was having my normal 2 second shower,because y'know, kids, I felt an odd small hard lump to the side of my right breast. It didn't hurt it was just a hard lump. NOTHING in my tiny mind thought PANIC, in fact I dismissed it, and swiftly forgot about it. Literally. And of course my beautiful baby boy got sick, went into hospital and well, that teeny lump popped right outta my mind but that teeny lump wasnt done growing...

By the New Year and February, in another shower (I had showered in between I can assure you!) I was very much aware of the lump as it was now visible under the skin so I made a routine GP appointment. After the appointment and they're assurance that it wasn't anything sinister they referred me to the local breast clinic to have it checked over. And then Cancer happened, as in those words fell out of the consultants mouth.

My life had changed.

So, here I am, still alive thank fcuk, 8 months down the line. 8 months of the hardest slog, 8 months of treatment, and 8 months of still having cancer - it hasn't gone and I am still in treatment. Many of times I wondered if it would be cathartic to tell my story: the story of my cancer but I didn't want to bore, but lucky for you here I am... ready to hash it all up. In an effort to help my mind heal from the trauma I want to get it all out.

So enter this blog.... A cuppa tea and Terrance the tumour.