Saturday 16th September 2018

It was the weekend after my first treatment and I had signed up to do the ‘Walk of Hope’ for Christies. Since I had decided to do it I had overcome a couple of hurdles along the way. The first and most heart wrenching was probably telling the children which I wrote about in What and when to tell the kids? . Myself and D signed up to the walk it was something in my mind I hope would help her to realise that unfortunately there are lots of people with cancer like me and that her support along the way would help me beat this. Ste and A would be waiting for us in the side-lines. The second obstacle was to try to get some sponsors without people finding out about my diagnosis.

I set up a just giving page with the hope I could at least raise enough money for the minimum requirement. Thankfully to the close family and friends we had told we managed to smash this and raised an amazing £425.00. My close friend Jo was also doing the walk with her daughter and mum they also had a family member who unfortunately lost their battle to cancer and it was their way of supporting them and of course me. Jo had just had an operation on her knee so I’m not sure a 10 km walk was the best idea for rehabilitation. This doesn’t surprise me though as most decisions made by myself and friends tended to be based on what we felt in our hearts, not with our heads (or maybe it was with our heads but we didn’t think like sensible rational people especially where decisions and alcohol were involved).

Ste drove us to Tatton Park along with A and Woody the whippet who unbeknownst to him was to be dragged round for moral support. We set off late in the afternoon unfortunately it was raining so we were prepared to get wet along the way. There was a mixture of young and old people there and a great atmosphere for some reason we ended up at the back of the pack (I can’t even remember why now). It was a good job we weren’t trying to break any speed records or we might have been slightly disappointed. I set off with my back pack on my bag with plenty of supplies of food and water. I was prepared for SAS training in the desert for a week never mind a 10 Km brisk walk in the park. See anyone that knows me will know that

1. a) I drink like a fish when it comes to water and
2. b) I have a slight phobia when it comes to sharing drinks or food.

The current criteria for me sharing a drink with you is that I must have given birth to you or I have given birth to one of your off spring and you have had to witness it (then it’s still debatable on some occasions).

Little Quirks

I’m not sure where or when this phobia/pickiness came into my life but it’s been there for some time. You could say it was one of my little quirks and what forms part of me. We weren’t so privileged in life that we could buy things without sharing (I often had hand me down clothes, bikes and toys). I just became slightly obsessed as a child that if I shared a drink with someone I would get their germs. Fear and panic would hit me at the thought of sharing a drink.  It didn’t just stop with drinks I was a pure joy at meal times as well often covering my plate so my dad couldn’t ‘breathe’ on my food. I also remember dreading school baking just in case some other child had poked or prodded any of my ingredients. It’s safe to say most things produced would be given to my parents and sister or thrown straight in the bin if some other child got their grubby mitts on it. There was no chance I would be risking any cross contamination. We laugh at it now but I remember the lengths and extremes I went to ‘avoid’ catching any unnecessary germs. See I was worried about catching germs but I wasn’t selfish or mean.

For example, later on in life I used to play netball a couple of times a week if someone asked for a sip of my drink and they had none I would take a big gulp first then give it to them and then not drink any of it afterwards no matter how thirsty I was. I would have rather been carried off for a mouth as dry as Gandhi’s flip flop and severe dehydration than share a mouthful of water and spit from one of my friends, sister or team mates. It came to a point where I used to bring two bottles of water to every game one for myself and one for the sharers!! It’s stupid I know and I didn’t think I was on any hygiene pedestal to anyone else it’s just that I had a number of fears where food and drink were involved this also made me a bit of a nightmare eating out for a number of years when I first met Ste.

I’m glad to say this fear/quirkiness of mine has become less prominent in my life now, largely when I decided to breed two little walking balls of bacteria. I have now proudly progressed to sharing drinks with them and Ste and can eat in most public places (with a food hygiene rating of 5 of course). See we all have our own little quirks or imperfections in life that make us slightly different from the next person. They can be obvious visible signs that other people notice straight away or less obvious ones in which you find out by chance. What makes these imperfections so great however is that our family, friends and love ones just accept them as part of who we are (if they don’t then maybe we should question why these people are in our lives). See my friends now as a whole not to ask for a taste of a drink from me or to even attempt a sharing platter when we eat out together for fear of getting the death stare!

In a way cancer is just another one of my ‘quirks’ which people around me have accepted and know that’s part of who I am. They know that sometimes I get tired or don’t feel well and they support and help with my current lifestyle choices with food and drink. The just accept it and love me all the same which is pretty amazing.

Walk of Hope

For the walk, I remained vigilant on the liquid front and prepared myself in case there were any ‘sharers’ in the group. This resulted in carrying an extremely heavy back pack but was worth the effort. We were well on the way into the walk when Woody decided it was his turn to deposit his contribution. Being the responsible dog owner that I am I had a few poo bags however what I hadn’t planned on doing was carrying a steaming bag of dog poo for the rest of the 7 or so km remaining. No, I hadn’t signed up for this at all. Luckily not long after this along the route there were a number of volunteers stood with bin bags of rubbish. One of the volunteers asked if we had any rubbish I apologised and said I’ve this (holding the steaming bag of dog poo) to which he smiled and said don’t worry and took the warm bag from me without hesitation.

This made me think whatever it is you’re doing you can always add value in some way or another especially in work and life. It might be that you’re not in your ideal job, you might think it literally is a pile of shit (this isn’t me by the way) but what’s worse, standing there moaning it’s a pile of shit and feeling worse about it all or taking on the pile of shit with a smile on your face knowing you’re adding value somewhere even if it is while you find the bed of roses. I try to do this at home, at work or when I volunteered. I might not always be doing what I want to be doing some days but I can either sit there and moan about it or try and add value which will make me feel better and hopefully help someone else along the way.

Out of the mouth of babes

Mid-point through the walk there was a rest point next to the lake where they handed out free treats and drinks of water (see I didn’t need the spare 10 gallons in my back pack after all). There was also the opportunity to write on stones then toss them into the lake to make a wish. Whilst I was having a drink D had gone to get a stone what she back with and had written was something that I’ll always carry with me. It was pure and straight from the heart. We walked to the edge of the lake and I watched her throw it in the water as far as she could and we made our wishes together (I don’t think you need to guess what they were). We all had some hugs and I was truly grateful for the unconditional love and friendship I had with me something I probably never realised I had before all this journey began.

We carried on for the rest of the journey it started to get quite dark. As we approached the finish line Jo’s mum and the kids had run on in front I can’t remember why I was at the back. I could see other people finishing and a wave of emotion rushed through me. I could see those that I loved the most in the world waiting for me, I wasn’t sure what was going to happen to me in life but I knew that they would be with me every step of the way. I took my back pack off and we later lit a candle of hope among the hundreds of other people there. It was our moment in which I realised listening to other people’s stories that all this was just the start but we did have hope and we were in it together.

Walk of Shame

When I first got diagnosed with cancer it all happened extremely quickly. I had gone from finding a lump in my neck to finding out I had stage 4 Metastatic Melanoma and having treatment in a matter of weeks (around 6 I think). It’s pretty amazing to think how quickly I was diagnosed and I am genuinely grateful for each and individual who was part of that process from the doctor that referred me to ENT to the surgeons, skin care nurse and oncologist I deal with today. Probably one of the hardest things to deal with though is the total mixed bag of emotions that comes with this disease.

I had to deal with various news, scans appointments on a daily basis while still trying to carry on as normal going to work every day, commuting, looking after the kids and dealing with the day too day issues that life generally brings. At the beginning beside close family and friends there were very few that knew about my situation. It came to a point with work where I was conscious of the number of days I was taking off due to the various appointments, blood tests and scans I had. I was conscious that they might think my work ethic wasn’t there so I made the decision to tell my line manager. It’s extremely hard telling someone face to face, I was honest and told them I didn’t really know the future held for me work wise. At that time, I didn’t really know a lot. After a couple of weeks a few more individuals from work knew more to explain my situation than anything. I can honestly say that they have been extremely supportive and understanding in all this from visiting me in hospital to sending me cards and just being overall supportive to my working arrangements. It turns out I didn’t have anything to panic about at all.

See at the beginning once I had told a few individuals I often wondered who knew what and what they thought of me. Did they think I was weak? Where people treating me differently? See normally I’m an extremely private person and don’t tend to discuss private matters with anyone. I sort of compare this feeling to that of when you’ve been extremely drunk the night before and can’t quite remember what went on but you know it isn’t good were you’re concerned. You’re not quite sure who knows but just as the dreaded beer fear kicks in you know at some point you have to do the inevitable ‘walk of shame’ either to meet up with people, escape from someone’s house, go to work after a drunken works doo or these days just to relive the whole dreaded moment again on social media thanks to your friends. It’s an awful feeling and worse when your one of life’s worriers like I am (or maybe used to be).

This is how I often felt whilst out in town or at work. I would talk to people wondering what do they know are they looking at me differently or talking to me because I am ill? I did my best to keep things under wraps and swore many individuals to strictest confidence. I got extremely upset a couple of times when a few people did find out indirectly. It wasn’t that I didn’t want them to know it was more that I wanted to tell them in person and in my own time. I didn’t want to upset people and sometimes telling people seemed to have that effect. For me the round about was going far too fast at times. I wanted it to stop and to get off to have time to process things.

I had sort of decided in my mind I wanted to have the 4 treatments and see how things went after Christmas when I was to get my results then hopefully tell people. This was the plan, however like most things in my life things didn’t go to plan. After my second treatment (which I will go into more detail) I became quite ill. I was admitted to hospital which at the time I hoped would be for the weekend and I could be back to work on the Tuesday all being well. It turns out I had quite a long stay in hospital (3 weeks). This was something I couldn’t quite keep under my hat but also made me realise I shouldn’t try to hide it either. I made a deal in hospital. I’m not sure who with more my subconscious really. I needed to help other people, I needed to share my experience to show other people that yes, it is scary but there are other people going through similar situations and we can all help each other and those that are helping us fight this terrible disease by being open to what we are going through.

This is where I made a deal to write this blog. I thought if people were to find out about my illness surely it was better to come from my own words than from hear say. Initially I was going to write it just for close family and friends but those that I showed it to told me I should share it to a wider audience. I have no idea why I chose a blog as I have read very little of them and no knowledge of how to create one. (that’s were Ste comes in handy with his IT skills).

Walk of Pride

Since writing this blog however I have gained so much. I braved the decision to post of it on social media and the response was overwhelming. I have had a number of people send me messages telling me how my words have helped them either understand how I am or help with family members close to them. I’ve had people who have said that it has helped them just dealing with general day to day life. I also realised that people finding out wasn’t all that bad. People want to know because they care and want to support you not just to gossip about you. Most people aren’t arseholes (ok there are a few exceptions to the rule but even then, there’s room for improvement). They want you to succeed and to beat this as much as you (well maybe not me I am pretty determined). People will come and chat to me at work and ask me how I’m doing so I let them know. I’ve had friends send me information regarding nutrition, new scientific research (all which I hope to add on here to help others) and just general offerings of help and support. Not only that I have managed to raise some money for Rosemere which have helped me so much in the past few months thanks to the people who have read my blog.

I don’t intend to stop here though this is just the beginning. I no longer walk in shame for fear of rumors about my illness. I walk with a sense of pride (think of the Bee Gees Stayin Alive and John Travolta and that’s me strutting down the corridor – well in my head anyway). I walk with pride because I know I have so many people backing my corner and each and every one play a part in helping me and others beat this cancer so let’s keep strutting our stuff and keep Stayin Alive.

Sunday 27th August

I don’t know if you call it fate, serendipity, a sign or destiny but sometimes in life things seem to show themselves or occur at specific moments that you can’t help but go along with them. It was the bank holiday weekend and we had various catch ups with friends and family letting them know the news. It was great to see them and we are so lucky to have such a supportive network that have genuinely been our rocks over the past few months, however I was drained and for one day I just wanted to get away from it all and spend time with Ste and the kids.

We decided to go to Tatton Park. I don’t know why I chose there but we had heard good things and I had never been there before so we went. At this point in time the kids still didn’t know about my diagnosis and we hadn’t really planned if it would be this weekend we told them or not. We set off and had a great time. It’s an amazing place and there were plenty of things to do parks, games, archery and animals. Naively we didn’t come prepared with food or water with all that had been going on we just didn’t think, we just went. The sun was really hot that day and as we went to the animal farm bit I could feel it shine down on my head. It felt uncomfortable and now brought a whole new element of panic/thought than ever before “what if I get burnt?” “can I even go out on a sunny day?” “am I a vampire?”. My arms and body were covered but it was boiling hot and I was probably about the only person out of hundreds that were covered up that day sweating like a boil in the bag rice. I was conscious of it but what I was more conscious of was the fact that I’ve just been diagnosed with Stage 4 skin cancer and I’ve gone out for the day without taking any sun cream how careless am I?

See as a kid I always remember being constantly nagged to wear sun cream by my parents. Both me and my sister were fair skinned so my parents were always cautious wherever we went. Back in those days we didn’t have the luxury and variety of easy apply spray creams there seems to be available now. My childhood holidays brought memories of thick tubes of sun cream which rubbed in about as easily as a plasterers mix at the end of the day or a tub of sudocream left in the fridge for a week. It was often in a sandwich bag with grains of sand left in from the previous day and just in case the ratio of sand grit to cream wasn’t rough enough I had the threat of my dads sandpaper hands to help rub it in should we have refused to put it on properly. All this was in preparation for a 15 minute play at more than likely the Mediterranean destinations of Abersoch or Shell Island beaches (Wales and Cornwall to those who haven’t heard of them).

Should we have asked to go in the sea or pool then out came the swimming t-shirts. With white t-shirts, white sun cream layered bodies both me and my sister were like two little white buoys bobbing up and down in the sea. If that wasn’t enough we sometimes had to wear a cap in the sea to protect our heads. There was definitely no need to keep an eye on us in the sea we were visible from most satellite locations. It’s no wonder we were good swimmers otherwise we may have drowned from the sheer weight of our clothes had we been unable to tread water for a substantial amount of time. Once we were in the water it was difficult to get us out we would spend ages swimming up and down, playing (leaving a thick trail of oil as we swam). If there’s one thing I remember from my childhood holidays my parents always made sure we were protected from the sun as best they could. Now I’m not saying I should wear a full length t-shirt, cap and cream on a outdoor spa day mid February in Burnley but I realise I need to be more prepared not only for myself but for my children and Ste. I haven’t experienced a full summer knowing I have skin cancer and despite the undpredictibiltiy of the weather lately I’m sure that I’ll be a lot more vigilant when the sun finally does come out. That needs to include sun cap, glasses, sun cream, lip balms and plenty of water (I’ve probably missed something out).

The thing is we never are vigilant until something does happen and unfortunately sometimes it can be too late. It applies to so many areas of our lives our health our diets, our well being, our relationships, even our finances. Now I am in no means a vigilantly but being diagnosed with cancer has certainly changed my outlook and approach to a lot of areas of my life. I now look at all these aspects as a tools to hopefully prolong my life as much as I can whilst still making it fun an enjoyable enough to live without regrets. If by writing this blog I encourage someone to re-asses maybe one area of their life whether that be sun protection, ditching the sun beds, improving their diet, being positive or just generally looking at their overall wellbeing then who knows it might even help to prolong their lives.

For me it’s all about what I value most in life. I value my life the ability to spend time with my children, husband, friends and family and the threat of not being around to see all that is enough to evoke most changes which can help prolong this time. For example as much as I used to love a drink on the weekend however I’d sacrifice that for an increase in my odds any day of the week (even Pimms or a Koko Kanu and Diet Pepsi and that’s saying something). Will this change in the future, maybe but for now it’s worth the effort even when I have to listen to drunk friends repeating the same stories at the end of the night. It’s just an added bonus I can remind them of these moments when beer fear kicks in the day after (only joking I would never do that or would I?).  Now I’m not saying you should all stop drinking (I’d have no entertainment for starts) but what I am saying is that maybe it’s worth a think sometimes to assess what you value most and make that your priority in terms of retaining it just in case it ever was threatened, everything else is just a cheeky little bonus.

Walk of Hope

We had walked round the park for a while and we decided to get some dinner (lunch). We managed to get a seat outside in the courtyard so I was summonsed to go and get everyone’s dinners (lunch) whilst everyone else kept guard! It was then when I noticed a leaflet that caught my eye. I picked it up and my heart went to the back of my throat as I read the words that slowly sank in off the page. It was advertising the ‘Walk of Hope’ for families and friends of loved ones who had lost or who are battling with cancer. There was a picture of people with angel wings whilst doing the walk and I couldn’t help but think this was a sign/fate/destiny that I was there on that day and happened to see the leaflet. I couldn’t ignore it. I got everyone’s lunches sat on the bench showed Ste the leaflet and burst into tears I don’t know why but I think it must of hit me that my family and I were now one of those people who had joined the battle and if we were ever to stand a chance then it wasn’t going to be sitting about doing nothing.

I took the leaflet home and I told Ste how I really wanted to do it and that I was hoping we could do it as a family. It was on Saturday 16th September (just a couple of days after my first treatment) and was a 10K walk round Tatton Park for Manchester Christies Hospital (http://www.christies.org/the-christie-charity/). It wasn’t my local cancer centre but it’s a fantastic charity one which I remember from when one of my best friends sadly lost her fight to cancer almost 14 years ago. The money raised not only goes into care and treatment but also to research for future treatments. It was my way of starting to give something back and counter balancing the positives from the negatives of this awful disease. To me it was a sign, a sign that there is hope sometimes you just need to grab onto the those opportunities however subtle/minor they may seem.

I wanted to sign up to the walk straight away but there were a few minor obstacles that made this a bit more complicated than it seemed on face value. The first one being we hadn’t yet told the kids, I would need to do this if I was expecting them to join me on this walk. Secondly I hadn’t told many people about my diagnosis so the likely hood of getting any sponsors was pretty slim (there was some expectancy of sponsorship value from the charity) and thirdly A wasn’t exactly what you’d call a walker he was definitely more a talker (he would give most SAS soldiers a run for their money in the battle of wits and sheer determination to stand his ground…literally!). A few days later we broke the news to the kids (as mentioned in one of my earlier posts ‘What and When to tell the kids’).

We then mentioned that we would like to do this walk for charity and to help Mummy. Straight away D said yes. A on the other hand did say yes but then when he actually thought about it and realised there was an option to stand and support he went with that. I was looking forward to it and hopefully it would be a key milestone/memory both me and D not forgetting Ste and A could treasure together we just had to figure out how to get some sponsorship money without having to let the whole world know why we were doing it.

Week Commencing 28th August 2017

Ste and I are blessed to have two fantastic children D and A who are 9 and 8. As a parent you have that natural desire to protect your children from everything and anything whilst hopefully still letting them grow and develop into the perfect little humans that they are and will become. One of the reasons I didn’t want to share our recent news with other people was that I was scared that the kids might accidentally hear from another child or someone by mistake. Now that we had broken the news to our family and some of our close friends it sort of prompted us to tell the kids sooner rather than later.

From the last meeting with the skin care nurse we had been given various booklets and leaflets from Macmillan, one was how to talk to children about cancer including a DVD. Being that Ste has removed all the DVD players in the house (much to my disgust) unfortunately this wasn’t going to be much use to us for this discussion. The lack of DVD players in the house is an issue of mine, if I had my way I’d still keep hold of the CD player and while were at it video player and wireless. But no, not in the this house, so as a result on the rare occasion that I am to be entrusted with the holy grail (aka remote control) in the hope of a nice relaxing ‘quiet night in’ to myself I have to resort to enlisting the help of my 9-year-old daughter to show me how to use these devices. So instead of the long-awaited rom com or chick flick I had planned on watching I’m usually still sat up with two kids way past their bed time eating sweets and popcorn watching another Disney movie that we only just watched last week for the 12th time. Usually at the end of it they then ask for a sleepover to which I’m normally bullied into (am I one of those parents who can’t so no?) and after finally calming down the two gremlins who have just been fed past midnight I’m usually left in the middle of a bed that isn’t mine with a foot or elbow to one side and the face of an angel breath of satan to the other. So if anyone has a DVD of Bridemaids and a DVD player that they fancy lending me please do before someone buys the rights and make it into another Disney movie which I’ll be forced to watch one evening somewhere down the line.

In spite of all this I wouldn’t change any of this for all the money in the world. Even at time when they might test the patience of a saint I know how lucky I am to have these two amazing children that I can proudly call mine. One of my biggest fears in all this was the thought that I might not be around to see them grow up and share all the special memories and milestones that a parent should with their children. For me missing out on that is not an option so I will give every thing I have to make sure that it happens.

Telling your kids that you’re not well is never going to be easy nor is it something that you would have much experience of. We looked at the Macmillan books however there seemed to be more information on how to tell teenagers. I read some post about how to tell younger children but it seemed that both mine were sort of in between i.e. they would be able to understand to a point about illnesses but they may not understand fully about cancer and how it might affect us all. Luckily I read a bit of a post saying that sometimes children’s behaviour changes when they find out a parent is ill, they can become extremely naughty and other times they become better behaved than normal as they can feel they are somehow to blame. I also read that sometimes their reaction might seem selfish as children don’t always see full picture.

We weren’t quite prepared but nevertheless we decided it was time to tell them the news. We all sat and had tea together round the table then we sat them down and told them. I can’t remember exactly the words that came out but I remember I managed to keep it together a little bit. Ste also told them that we might have to move houses as we were unsure if I would be able to work. Now we didn’t do much research on what the responses might be but I’m pretty sure none of our children’s reactions were amongst those written down. A (the youngest) was sat at the table clearly upset and crying which obviously broke our hearts. However, when Ste asked him what bits were upsetting him the most we weren’t quite expecting his response of “I don’t want to have a smaller bedroom.” Nor were we expecting Daisy to stand up and say “Can I watch TV now?” However when we asked her why, she said because she knew what cancer was and it was upsetting her and she didn’t want to hear anymore. This is something that broke my heart and still does.

They weren’t the textbook answers that you might read about but then again none of the key milestones in my life had the picture perfect reactions or textbook responses. For instance there was the time when we told our parents that we were expecting our first child the response was pretty much along the lines of “bloody hell” (my sister had just broke then news that she was expecting pretty much three months prior to this). Then there was the time I told Ste we were expecting our second child which was followed by the response “for fuck sake” (it was slightly unexpected being that we were just getting used to D and the age gap between them would be 15 months at a push). Not forgetting the time when myself and Ste told my parents we were going to get married which we did over the phone as my parents were away on holiday at the time. My mum gave the response “We’ll if that’s what you want to do”. Not quite the response we were hoping for after being together for thirteen years. There my have been prosecco involved in her response as in the morning she had forgotten the whole conversation so my dad phoned to check the news the following morning.

Nevertheless what I have learned is that these initial responses weren’t important. What was important was their behaviour and how they showed their love and support from that point onwards. Ste got his head around child number 2 who is pretty much his double as did I and our family wouldn’t be complete without him or D. I’m also pleased to say my parents also got round to the fact that we decided to get married rather than continue to live in sin and my mum has also managed to remember most important conversations since despite her prosecco induced memory loss. We too have found that our kids have been admirable in the way they have accepted and helped me on this journey.

No text-book can prepare you for how your children will react and no one knows a child better than a parent. Whether you decide to tell your children or not is completely up to you. What I will say is that from that point forward there were no secrets. There were no more quiet conversations or crying behind doors. They have been part of this journey from more or less the start. They might not always be able to see my illness which is something that they struggled to understand at first. However they’re always there to wish me good luck before a scan or appointment and they’re there with a sympathetic hug when I’m crying or sad. They too have worries and down days and we are lucky enough to have support from friends and school to watch out for them and to share their thoughts with. They are the glue that sticks us together, the purpose and drive to survive along with my husband and family and what will push me to overcome my fears and beat this disease.

Week Commencing 28th August 2017

We had just been given the news from the skin care nurse that the cancer had spread to various areas in my body (mainly my chest and liver). There was however some query over whether the cancer had spread to my foot and brain. I had an x-ray straight after the meeting with the skin care nurse to look at the foot but the scan on the brain was arranged for a couple of days later at another hospital. It turned out nothing had shown up on my foot. To me it did seem a bit random (I did think well I can cope without my toe as my balance is pretty rubbish anyway). It does however seem that cancer has no sense of logic from what I’ve experienced so far.

From the discussion with the skin care nurse she said they would need to determine if the cancer had spread to my brain as the course of treatment would be different and the brain would be the priority. She did mention that sometimes an area can show up when signals are sent to the brain. I do remember coughing during the scan so I was desperately pinning my hopes on this.

The skin care nurse mentioned that once the oncologist was back from her holidays she would be discussing forms of treatment with us. We had asked what sort of treatment was available chemotherapy and radiotherapy were out of the question as these have been shown to be ineffective against melanoma. There was discussion of immunotherapy (which I had never heard of but I will go into a lot more detail in future blogs) but this would be dependent on the results of the brain scan.

The days leading up to my scan and the day after I remember sitting in the living area and reciting out my affirmations, much of the time trying to hold back the tears (for those of you that don’t know what affirmations are they’re basically things that we tell ourselves on a daily basis but say out loud to make them come true). I also spent time visualising that there was no cancer in my brain. To some people all this might seem a bit ‘wacky’ but it seems that modern society has began to embrace these sort of practices which ironically have been around for century’s. We now desperately cling on to things such as meditation, mindfulness and affirmations as a way of escaping the day-to-day stresses of life but also as a way of achieving our own personal goals and finding purpose in our lives. Maybe we should have paid more attention to these wacko’s growing up they could have taught us a thing or two about life.

I had been practicing this type of thing for a few months prior to my diagnosis. I am definitely no expert or claim to be but I do believe that there must be some connection to the mind and body so why not give it a try. Your affirmations however need to be something you truly want i.e. I am a model. However sitting there in your onesie with a bag of tortilla chips saying this will unfortunately not get you there. You would need to affirm what steps you would do to achieve that i.e. I will stop eating junk food, I will spend time creating a portfolio and I will grow at least one foot (I made the last bit up but you get my drift). What sort of started me on meditation and affirmations was I read a book recommended to me by a good friend. Normally I would struggle to read a full book or get past the first few chapters but something in this book grabbed my attention and I kept on reading. I enjoyed it that much I have now read it twice and bought copies for my mum and sister. The book is called The Miracle Mornings by Hal Elrod. The guy is inspirational and much of the positive attitude I have had since my diagnosis I genuinely believe came from this book that struck a chord with me. I will go into Hal Elrod and his S.A.V.E.R.S another time.

So I went for the scan and all the way through I said my affirmations in my mind. I’ve also continued to take little gifts/mementos given to me by those nearest and dearest to me including a faith type angel, some wood from an the oldest oak tree in the UK (which my dad brought back from the village where he grew up in Wales) drank water from the well near the church and also brought a fidget cube which I ‘borrowed’ from the kids. I’m not sure if any of these help towards getting better but it brings some calm to my thoughts before important scans, meetings and treatment. So if your reading this and you think that sniffing a badgers arse and rubbing sawdust in your eye while you hop in on one leg will have the same desired calming effect then I say go for it, don’t worry what anyone else thinks.

About a day or so later I got a phone call from the skin care nurse. She told me that she had good news for once and hoped that I didn’t mind receiving it over the phone. She said that my scan was clear and there were no signs of cancer in my brain. The next step now was for my appointment with the oncologist to discuss my treatment. I couldn’t wait to get started. As soon as I put down the phone I phoned my family and friends. I spoke to my mum and dad who were away at their caravan and I just broke down in tears. I was so happy I felt like I had won the lottery. It might not have been the Euromillions probably more like one of Bully’s special prizes but it was great news and a win never the less. All I had to do now was figure out what the heck I would do with a speed boat and how the hell to get it home.