Two Years

So, obviously the title implies that this post relates to something to do with 'two years'. Well, congratulations if you worked out that code - that is most definitely correct! Today is basically two years since I was diagnosed. May 21st 2010. I do enjoy birthdays, anniversaries and Christmasses etc but I really don't want to make this into a 'thing' to 'celebrate'. However, it's difficult to get the 'date' out of your mind when it is so firmly there. It is so strange to think that this time two years ago I (well my family and close friends!) had started telling everyone I know what was going on. It's only recently friends have told me how they reacted at the time and it is so odd hearing about it from another person. As this date will forever more have a bit of a CRAP quality about it, maybe I should make up a holiday? Like, National Clean Your Car Day or National Make Pasta From Scratch Day - as in dull things, people say they will do and never will? Hmmm.. That probably won't take off so let's scrap that idea.

So, I'll just be self indulgent for a few more minutes and say I want to thank each and every person who has helped me, talked to me, been there for me, acted normal around me, invited me to do something FUN, made me a cake, talked about trashy magazines, brought percy pigs, provided me with a new Andrew Lloyd Webber piano book, got their class to make me an Annual, made a mash up of John Torode's face, those who introduced me to Community/Mad Men/ Greys Anatomy and any other show that helped me through the DULL DULL DULLNESS of hospital stays. I obviously have so many more people to thank but anyone who prayed, sent a card, message or even a lasagne - I just want to say Thank You.

I feel now I should have some knowledge in how to speak to someone going through a similar thing to me - obviously practical things like, don't wear long sleeves in hospital (it's a nightmare with getting blood/venflons), take lots of moisturiser/lip balm/hand cream (the air con makes you feel very dry), take quite a few pairs of pjs (one night stay will almost definitely be more) and make sure you have enough entertainment so you can drown out the noise of the constant beeps or chitter chatter. Larger headphones help with this venture.

I think if anything, I've learnt that cancer patients want their normality. For example, it's horrible when your morning routine is taken away from you and you are woken at 7am with a slice of cold toast and some really disgusting coffee. I also wanted people to be normal with me. I can understand why it is an uncomfortable situation but the patient has never changed - I had never changed. I'd like to think I kept my sense of humour throughout (debatable I'm sure), my need to change my nail polish every second day (difficult, as I was normally told off for this) and my love for smelly cheese had definitely not diminished - well it did when I was told not to eat them. Humph. Back on the Cheese Train now though! Hurrah.

Two years down the line.. Hmmm I'm not sure if I've changed. At the moment my Dad would disagree and probably say, I'm a 'lady of leisure' - which I guess is partly true! I'm giving myself to the summer to have a proper BRAINSTORM about this silly old life of mine. I'm sure something will strike me soon.

Obvs, I don't want to be banging on about cancer all my life - it already feels like a long time ago. However, if anyone wants to talk to me about it, that's cool! I hope folk don't feel uncomfortable if I'm too open with it - sometimes I should learn to shut up.

Right, I think I should round up this (rather long!) blog. I had no idea where I was going there so may continue another soon. Night y'all.

London Lolz

This post has been a long time coming - I really have absolutely no excuse at all. Basically, I'm just incredibly lazy. I kinda miss my little corner of the internet so thought I would post a wee update for y'all.

Since my last post, I've managed to fit in two trips to London - one to visit the prof and one to go to a Teenage Cancer Trust event at the Royal Albert Hall. Everything was grand with the prof - all scans were clear and no scares like the last time. Mum and I had some prosecco and macarons to celebrate and met up with some London friends for dinner. Any excuse huh?!

Well, now I'm basically going to BANG ON about how awesome the Royal Albert Hall was! I am a HUGE fan of the theatre but had never been to the RAH so I was so excited to be invited by the Teenage Cancer Trust. It was an all expenses paid trip (holla) so that was pretty ace! We were at the RAH all day with other folk from the charity - we got involved in a Music Workshop, had a tour of the hall, a champagne reception, a lovely dinner, amazing goodie bags, wonderful seats and then got to meet all the comedians! Here are some snaps for y'all.

We had some time on Tuesday for tourirsty stuff so went to the big Topshop, an Italian for lunch then hit up Liberty's - standard. It was a wonderful trip and it was great to go to London and not have to go to hospital!

The past couple of weeks have been filled with birthdays and fun happenings - April always seems to be very busy! As of this, I seem to have contracted some sort of awful cough. It's starting to disappear a bit thanks to some antibiotics. In the words of David Cameron, my body was telling me to, 'calm down dear'.

Here are some pictures to prove why I am so run down.. THANKS FRIENDS FOR BEING SO FUN.

I have also been involved in a few other Teenage Cancer Trust events recently. A few weeks ago, I attended the Managed Service Network Launch. At the event, Nicola Sturgeon announced that the Scottish Government will back age appropriate care for young people going through cancer. Great news! A lot of work had gone into this and we were all very happy with the result. I have also been invited to a parliamentary event in Westminster in June which I am rather excited about. I think I've got to say a few words so I am already pretty nervous. More about that when it happens though!

Aside from all the above, I am now at the stage where I really need to think about what to do... With my life... I have officially left my old job (I'll miss you guys!) and I could not have asked for a more supportive and caring group of colleagues. However, it has now left me in a quandary! By now I feel I should have come to some sort of conclusion/had an epiphany yet nothing has fallen from the sky.. Hmm.. I have a few more things lined up with TCT/Macmillan over the next few months so I think I'll see where they lead to. It's all rather terrifying but I'm trying to look at what I can benefit from this down time - I'm sure there will be something out there for me. However, any suggestions - fire them my way!

It's coming up to two years since my diagnosis - I don't particularly want to dwell on it and I really don't want it to define me. I'm totally cool if it comes up in conversation, or something wants to ask me about it but I am so happy that it's not the only thing I have to talk about anymore.

I promise I won't leave it so long til my next update!

PS - thoughts on my hair? I'm still not convinced I like it. (That may be fishing for compliments - unashamedly).

Hair Twin

Oh hello there bloggy type pals. I hope you are all well. It has come to my attention that I now have a hair twin. Well, I have had hair twins for a while I guess. When I was bald, I was told I looked like Harry Hill, the guy from Eastenders, Voldemort (thanks Teenie) and many other men. How kind to be compared to such attractive guys.. At one point, with my skin head, I looked like various different neds. I have also closely resembled Mr Zelner from Friends. However, there have been none so similar as... Wait for it... Dan Humphrey from Gossip Girl! 'Who is that?', I hear you cry! Well, you are about to see the shocking similarity..

Yes, uncanny isn't it? Yeah? YEAH?! I know you're saying, 'No, not at all'. Well, I am sorry about this. I am very lazy with google images and totally rubbish with computery things so this is probably the fourth picture from google and a shoddy paint job. So basically, go and google him OK? This is now my reason for watching Gossip Girl - to compare my hair with one of the hunks from the show. If anyone can think of any WOMEN who have the same hair as me, please let me know. I feel like I'm overdosing on mascara, perfume and frilly tops so people are sure that I am female.

In other news, I am now 26. Hurrah. NOT. Honestly, I don't really care THAT much. The only downside for me is that I can't apply for another Young Persons Railcard. Well, that and the fact that I am now the dreaded 'mid twenties verging on late twenties' stage. That's not good. I had a very nice birthday actually. I asked some of my girly pals to come round dressed in their best black dress and crazy wigs for some karaoke and champagne - everyone looked marvellous! Here is the proof..

I, of course, went for a blue wig. Why break the norm eh?!

Tomorrow I am travelling back down to London for a check up on Friday. I'm hoping after this one they will become less frequent. I'm not expecting him to say too much but it's always good to check in I guess. However, I seem to have caught a cold from one of the million germs that are kicking about. I feel OK but sound like a very hoarse man (matching the hair eh?).

I am definitely starting to feel a bit stronger - no cartwheels just yet though! I'll leave them a few weeks.

Thank you Dr Li

This will only be a brief post (I promise) as I just wanted to share with you all something I have found out this week. My Dad is currently reading a book about the history of cancer (sounds fun eh?!) (The Emperor of all Maladies by Siddhartha Mukherjee) and he thought I would find one chapter very interesting.. I did!

We have found out about a doctor in the late 50s, early 60s (can't quite remember) who discovered the first ever chemo cure for adult cancer while treating a patient with a choriocarcinoma. The patient had a high hcg level and the doctor (Dr Li) realised very quickly that if he administered methotrexate (a chemotherapy drug) the tumours declined. However, he kept on giving the drug so the hcg hormone level would gradually decrease. The hcg was what they call a tumour marker. He continued the treatment until the hcg level hit normal and the patient was cured. Yet he was accused of experimenting on patients and sacked! Today though this has been hailed as the first ever cure of adult cancer through chemotherapy.

I have mentioned before how odd/weird/random/out there my tumour was, yet it seemed to behave like a germ cell tumour (ie a choriocarcinoma). Chorio's are normally in the womb and associated with a pregnancy - my tumour was incredibly awkward and had nothing to do with this and showed up in my bowel, yet still producing a high hcg. I still find the whole thing rather confusing.

Anywho, all I wanted to say was that I found this rather interesting and I guess I have a lot to thank Dr Li for. What a smart guy! (Also, how on EARTH do you figure something like that out?! BLOWS MY MIND).

Other than the above, I do not have much else to report. The staples are out of my tummy and I have another scar to add to my collection. I also turn 26 tomorrow and am already sick of 'old lady' jokes. How on earth am I this old?!

One week ago today..

... I was nervously awaiting my trip to theatre. Generally, I felt OK (think I got my freak out, out of my system a few days previous) but I was still terrified. It had been a bit of a manic few days prior to this so I shall fill you in.

On Saturday, we decided to go to the cinema (to see The Artist, which I did enjoy but think it's been 'over-hyped') and once we left I had a rather sore stomach. I decided to tackle this with peppermint tea and paracetamol but it would not budge. After a few hours of debating whether to go to hospital, we packed up some stuff and went to Wishaw. I was expecting the A & E department to be full of Saturday night drunkards but it was empty. However, it still took forever to be seen and a very cautious junior doctor only giving me 2.5mg of morphine.. After explaining countless times that this would do nothing and I know my own levels of pain blah blah blah, I got sent to the ward. This was a good move as I got all the morphine I wanted there! Hurrah! This meant no sleep at all due to all the itching from the morphine.. I chose no sleep over pain. By Monday morning, I was still pretty sore and hadn't eaten anything (which is unusual as this pain normally goes within 6 hours) so they decided to CT scan me. I popped down for one and when the results came back it appeared that I would need a larger operation. On Monday morning I was asked to decide if I wanted to go ahead with the op as planned OR to have a larger one which would involve opening me up again (nooooooo) and snipping away at any adhesions they found. I made the decision rather quickly to go ahead with this larger operation as I was told it was inevitable and it would need to happen anyway. So, Monday passed with me even MORE nervous about the next day. With the original op I was only going to be under anaesthetic for an hour but with this new proposal it was expected to be quite a few hours. In the evening, my surgeon visited me and said that she had reviewed my scan with a radiologist who told her I didn't need this larger op.. Talk about messing with your head! So, she left me saying she wanted to go ahead with the straight forward op and see what happens.

As you probably all know, I am not good AT ALL with things being changed last minute and always need time to get my head around a situation. On Monday I realised pretty quickly that I had to try to 'go with the flow' which I found very difficult indeed.

Now.. I have a rather embarrassing admission.. I own a pair of 'lucky pants'. I know, I know, this is RIDICULOUS and I have no idea why but I do OK! I am in no way superstitious, I don't believe in luck or jinxes, I think starsigns are rubbish etc but I still have lucky pants.. Don't worry, I don't wear them for all of my hospital admissions (one pair of pants for a month stay? No no), just the big things like scans or big check ups. I stupidly told the lovely nurse who was taking me up for my Op and she proceeded to tell EVERYBODY. She made sure the anaesthetist put them in a labelled bag for me and when I came back to the ward she wanted me to show the other nurses... I realise I am now telling all of you but that's only because she let my secret out of the bag. I now wish they were nice ones. Unfortunately they're very faded flowery ones. CRINGE.

When I came out of the op (after realising my pants were safe), I was told everything went well and my surgeon found an adhesion right at the opening so managed to snip it away without opening me up any further. Here's hoping that's the end of all my stomach pain! I had a morphine pump so was itching away like crazy and talking total jibberish. Mum took a picture to send to James as he wasn't able to come. Not my most flattering angle but oh well. I was attached to a million things - not fun when you need the bathroom.

I was transferred to a different ward (one down from high dependency) where the nurses were amazing. They were so lovely, kind, caring and made me feel like I was never asking a stupid question (even though I totally was). The day after, so many nurses, doctors, hospital folk passed and popped in to say 'hello'. It made me realise how many people I now know in the hospital.. It's A LOT! The nurse who was looking after me was great and made a comment that they don't generally see people who have done so well and come out of the other end of treatment - she then said that I touched a lot of peoples hearts.. AWWWWWWW. Totally gushy but I thought it was incredibly sweet of her.

After this wonderful ward I was transferred to a ward that I HATED. The second we walked in I felt really uncomfortable. It was a huge room with high ceilings and six beds. I remember going to sleep and feeling really unsettled as it reminded me of somewhere but couldn't think where. Mum made the comparison with Charing Cross Hospital and the ward I was originally in there. Bingo - that was it. It wasn't exactly the same but felt so familiar. I think, subconsciously, it brought back how much I hated it there, how scared I was and how terrifying the whole situation was. I was completely miserable, sore (morphine had been stopped.. waaaa), tired (hadn't slept for days) and surrounded by women discussing how many great grandchildren they had. Normally I love this kind of chat but I was just angry at everything. Mum phoned my surgeon to say I was a bit down and she said, 'if you think Mairead looks OK, take her home!'. Mum didn't hesitate so called me and told me to pack - hurrah! This really perked me up so then I started blethering to all the old ladies (who were all lovely) and getting everything gathered up. One of the awful things about Wishaw is the strict visiting hours - I am NOT used to this and hate spending so much time by myself. So, I had to wait until 3pm to be picked up and then off home we went! I was only out of surgery for two days and in quite a bit of pain but would much rather have my recovery on the couch watching Masterchef.

So, to end this very long post, I am now home and very happy. I tried to refrain from getting sentimental and mushy when I left/got home but I know everyone's hoping that was my last hospital admission and I will only ever need to go for check ups again. It feels completely mental. It's been 20 months since I was diagnosed and probably about 2 years ago since I was symptomatic. I'm not entirely sure what's next but I really hope it doesn't involve hospitals.

Should old acquaintance be forgot..

I think it's probably fair to say, that most people who say, 'I JUST LOVE singing Auld Lang Syne' don't have a clue what the words are. I am OK with admitting that I am one of those people. However, this blog post title is one line that I do know - hurrah! I have been putting off writing a post for ages - I am becoming very lazy I think - but as time has gone on, I have even more to write.. Oh well, you guys are in for a treat then!

As I didn't go to London a few weeks ago, I got my MRI in Wishaw instead. The results from that MRI were good and there is no sign of cancer - phew. I felt totally fine going for the MRI but when it came to the results I started to get a bit nervous. All good though! Unfortunately, I ended up in hospital a few days before New Year with that annoying stomach pain again. As it's happened a few times, I can now tell when it's starting so we rushed straight to Wishaw. I quickly got a fluid drip and a few shots of morphine (thanks to a letter from my wonderful surgeon). That really helped the pain but they kept me in overnight anyway. I was absolutely RAGING the next day as they would not let me leave. I felt totally fine yet nobody was listening to me. In the end (about 6 hours later) a doctor showed up, asked how I was, then said I could go. I was getting ready to walk out so he came in the nick of time! I feel like I'm continuously saying that some doctors and nurses (not all!) don't look at the patient as a person - they just look at the symptoms. This is fair enough if someone wanders in and hasn't had any prior problems. However, with me, it takes forever trying to explain to a random doctor what's been going on. I think I now know my own body and when I'm feeling slightly ropey. I feel that they have to look at the patient as a whole and ultimately what is best for them. I was absolutely determined not to spend any more time in hospital than was necessary but this clearly wasn't a necessity to them. Obviously, I understand they have paperwork to do and such like but STILL. This is the ward that I'll be in after my Op.. I'm not very happy about this as I now think the nurses look at me like I'm a grumpy cow.. Oh well. They know the truth about me then! 

So yes.. My Op... It is scheduled for 17th January (two days before Mum's birthday.. Sorry Mum) at 8am (bet you any money it doesn't happen til 5pm). I'm trying not to think about it but honestly I am terrified! I know it's a basic routine thing and I'll be in and out of theatre in an hour but my mind clearly doesn't work like that. I'm getting myself psyched out about it which is NOT good. The only thing I'm looking forward to is the morphine pump - that's always fun. OK, I'm not actually looking forward to it, but every cloud eh? I am seriously crossing everything that I get a single room. I am sick of people on wards saying to me, 'oh you're so young, why are you here?' and having to tell everyone my whole 'story'. Also, there are really strict visiting hours at Wishaw if you're on a ward with other people.. I do NOT like that. Oh yes, one other thing that bugs me SO MUCH is that they come around, turn on the lights, open the curtains etc at 8am! Last week when I was in hospital, I eventually fell asleep at 6.30am so this did not amuse me. It's times like this I really miss The Beatson (they would let me lie in as long as I like.. Ahhhh the TCT - another reason they are great!). 

Well, I have bored you all long enough with this health chat. Reading it back it looks more like a rant.. Sorry! Anywho, the festive season has now come and gone, but it was really nice. We had a festive party in Uddy the week before Christmas. My costume idea of a Snowflake fell through so I went for a 'Blue Christmas' - pretty easy for me!

Our cousins were staying in Coatbridge over Christmas so were round a lot and Granny and Grandpa Macleod were here too. The Brown cousins then came for New Year - the house feels very quiet now they've all gone. We had a bit of a disaster on Christmas Day coming back from church to realise the turkey hadn't been cooking. It was all good in the end though as the turkey was carefully transported to the oven in Coatbridge and brought back to Uddy - it tasted wonderful too! Christmas Day was rather bitter-sweet. James is still very sore and hasn't had much improvement at all. It was sad not to have him at the dinner table and to see him his normal, happy self. 

In the week leading up to Hogmanay, I realised that I hadn't completed my one New Years Resolution.. To make a croquembouche! This HAD to be rectified. So, Mum, Auntie Rosemary and I got baking and after a few tries at spun sugar, we perfected it. Here is the finished result..

We decided to make a petite one - the next time we try it, it will be massive! It tasted great too - honest. On New Year's Eve we had planned to do a Murder Mystery but changed our minds. However, this did not stop us from getting dressed up! Seriously, my family are mental - which is why I love them. 

Celebrating New Year felt rather odd. I found it quite strange as things are so different to last New Year (in a good way! For me anyway). It really made me reflect on everything that has gone on and puts into perspective how much things have changed. So much has happened this past year and even in the week leading up to Hogmanay, there was some awfully sad news. It is difficult to know what to say in these situations as nothing can ever really help. All I want to say is that she will be terribly missed and remembered as a loving, caring and wonderful woman. 

2011 was an awfully tough year for a lot of people that I love and I really hope that 2012 is a year of happiness, health and filled with many good things. Even saying that makes me think of all the cringey facebook statuses that appeared on New Years Eve.. I genuinely mean this though! I am going to have a think tonight about what my New Year's Resolutions will be and post later on this week. Suggestions welcome.. 

Blame it on the Weatherman

Now, I am not blaming Sean Batty for this current weather situation - this blog title is actually in reference to THE BEST, 90's, fourpiece, denim wearing girlband, B*Witched! I've been humming the song in my head all day. The weather in Scotland is pretty crazy at the moment so our flight to London tonight has been cancelled. I was due there tomorrow morning for an MRI, x ray, meeting with the fertility dude and the prof. It's rather annoying having to miss it as they're all very important appointments. Guess there's not much we can do about it. Stupid weather ruining everything! The storm is making me want to watch the Wizard of Oz, particularly this scene..

I've been feeling pretty rubbish this week, just tired and run down I think. Slightly relieved we don't have to go.. I've not been doing all that much. However, here is a snap of Ruth and I at an event last week to show you my hair..

As you can see, it is coming in incredibly curly.. I've been getting quite a lot of lovely compliments about it which is nice! One girl even approached me last Friday to talk to me about my hair - very sweet. Typically though, I hate it. Always want what you don't have eh?

Anywho, will leave you with a snap of B*Witched - what babes.

I'll be back soon - with Christmas chat no doubt.