Bognor or Bust!

Once again I’m writing this on a plane. Listening to Paul Oakenfold and approaching William Lake in Canada according to the interactive flight map. Its Sunday and I’m en-route to Palo Alto, California where we have an office. The airport was full of holiday makers which isn’t unreasonable given it’s August! Very randomly one of my best friends was also in the airport at the same time but sadly I had just got the transit to my gate when I got the call to say she was there. Another time maybe Claire! I have to admit, I was a little deflated following the previous scan. I know I shouldn’t have been given the news could have been much, much worse, but my head was in a different place. This has happened to me before (when I had my first lumpectomy and was then told they didn’t have clear margins), so I should have learnt my lesson then and realised that life is never that simple. But you see, the thing is, I thought that was to be my last scan if things hadn’t changed. The lung no...

I’m writing this at 38,000 feet, Mid-atlantic. I’ve spent a lot of time here recently and have just earned my gold BA card. For me, this is not a badge of honour but a reflection of life taking a turn and spending too much time away from the family. Work has been busy and whilst I knew all these trips would need to be done I did not expect them to have been all within 6 weeks of each other! Only 2 more weeks and then I am on holiday, so there is, at least, light at the end of the proverbial tunnel. I’ve even managed an upgrade which doesn’t happen to me very often. Life has continued on and for the most part I forget about cancer. I get a daily reminder every morning as I count out my 6 little reddy-orange neratinib tablets and my one anastrazole. There is also the cadence of my monthly rush of appointments as I have to have a blood test on one day, return the following day for the blood test reslts and to see the consultant, and then if both of these go OK I then need to retur...

A little sentence, no harm meant. I get asked it a lot these days by well-wishers. I get the sentiment, I really do. Any yes, externally, things are "back to normal". I'm back at work and really enjoying it. My life is now full once more of juggling school appointments, shopping, washing and all the other things that every mother and wife up and down the country does. My hair is growing back nicely and I'm finally able to get straighteners through it again (just). The endless hospital appointments have fallen away somewhat. Except only a fellow cancer warrior can understand that once the scourge that is cancer has touched your life, things will never go BACK to the way they were before. That life has gone for all of us and whether we mourn it or not (actually it's pretty pointless to as it doesn't change anything), life before cancer is a carefree, wonderfully naive place that once it is taken away can never be reclaimed. My body will never look the same aga...

No really! It's true. Read on dear follower..... Life has been ticking along perfectly normally. My hair has gone completely crazy and I look like a cross between a microphone and some kind of mad professor on a daily basis. It's gone quite curly and is at that weird stage where I don't want to have it cut because I will only need to go through the pain of growing it once more. Weirdly there doesn't seem to be as much grey there as there was before, so on some levels there has been a result! Hopefully with the advent of spring it will now start growing a little faster as it feels like it has been growing painfully slowly compared to some others in a similar situation that I have scoured on the internet. I had the scan on Friday and it wasn't a pleasant experience. I stayed overnight in London on Thursday evening with work (dinner at the OXO tower with my new team, very pleasant!) and then (as usual) didn't sleep a wink. It's become a bit of a routine ...

It’s been 2 months since my last post and life really does go on. At an alarming pace! So how was Christmas for you all? Now we are deep into the year all New Years resolutions must surely be confined to the bin. I didn’t make any this year because the reality is that staying alive and well is simply enough. Christmas for us was great after the cancer rollercoaster last year. Even milestone days which I’ve always found difficult are getting slightly easier. I’m not saying I’m planning my retirement again just yet, but I do now think out-surviving tinned produce may be possible. Unless its corned beef as I’m sure we have some that pre-dates Stephen and me. 2018 is over and done and we have moved on, literally and figuratively. We moved house on the 19th December and I’m pleased to report that we still love the place. We have appointed an architect to help us make some changes and I can’t wait. It’s a peaceful place with fab views. I’ve also returned to work after 15 months away....

This will be my last post of 2018. And what a year....... 365 days or 18 rounds of chemo/antibody treatments 3 operations 1 colonoscopy 1 endoscopy 15 sessions of radiotherapy Countless scans and appointments 2 talks for Breast Cancer UK 1 charity after dinner speech 1 marathon (walked) £6k raised for Cancer research UK. 1 redundancy 1 menopause Quite frankly I'm over 2018 and it can just F off! We finish the year tomorrow with a move. It's with mixed feelings that I'm leaving our current home. It was the home we bought Briony home to and have watched her grow into the lovely young lady she is. But it's also the home where a year ago my world collapsed. The past year has been spent rebuilding it and it is time to move on. I'm secretly glad that we are moving this side of the New Year. I just want to leave my very own "annus horribilis" behind and wave it a fond adieu. Like an unwelcome relative to be consigned to history (hopefully). ...