ACCEPTANCE

They say that being diagnosed with a life threatening illness can be likened to grief.  I think that 'they' are right in saying this!

Denial, anger, bargaining, depression and finally acceptance are a part of the framework which makes up our coping strategies to live with the one we lost. We in this instance is me.

When I was first diagnosed with stage IIIb colon cancer, it hardly sank in. I didn't allow it to sink in. I had my family to think about. Those who read my blog will remember me saying that I wasn't angry. I'm guessing that this was my denial stage. Anger did come but much later on, after the bargaining stage. Bargaining...I often did this silently to myself. I would ask the universe that if it would please please spare me and allow my little girls to grow up with a Mummy, that I would give something back. I still need to figure out what it is exactly that I can give back!  What can I give back?  Towards the end of my treatment, when my body was battered by the chemo, I again bargained with the universe and said that I would do it all over again to guarantee that my girls would NEVER have to go through what I had. I would do it over and over and OVER again to save them from it!!!!

Anger came but in waves. Not so much WHY did I get this but anger because my littles were scared that their Mummy might die. No child should go to bed at night and worry that one of their parents might not live to see them grow up. Every little girl needs and wants their Mummy for as long as possible. I asked the smallest little recently over lunch what were her happy memories and she told me "when you told me the cancer had gone"... she then cried and told me that she was scared that I would die. Damn you cancer. Her happy memories should be of a birthday party or a trip to England to see her family or fun with friends, not of cancer !!!  I was also angry that we would have this umbrella over our lives for 5 years or more really and that it had intruded my family's life ... anger was quickly replaced with depression. This hit me hard. I wrote about my struggles to leave the house, to continue with life after treatment even struggling once I had been given the all clear, the struggle to find and like this new me. I've written about that, so we do not need to revisit this as it was a dark place.

Acceptance. Well I think I am getting there. It is not a bed of roses but I do think that I am now getting used to this new me. I still have dark days, no where near as frequent as before. As I said in my previous blog, nobody wants to be the new girl in the class but I feel that I'm not so much the new girl now, I feel as thought I have integrated into the class. I know my limits and I'm finally accepting that there are days when I still feel grief for the old me, I still have the occasional cry but crying is good for the soul, it's a release. There are days when all I need to do is to sleep, and this is ok too. I accept that my body is still recovering from something very intrusive and very traumatic. Returning to the gym and regaining body strength has played a very important role in me finding acceptance. Endorphins are my best friend right now. I can finally see and feel the changes in my body, I can feel myself getting stronger both physically and more importantly, mentally. There is a lot to be said about endorphins...go find them if you haven't already!

So we are in May, and it's my biggest little's 13th birthday soon. This time last year, I had the famous episode with the magic liquid and spent the night in hospital tripping my face off...no repeat episode of that this year!

I am thankful that I am here this time this year to see this precious being become a teenager. She still hasn't really spoken to me about the cancer, but I respect her choice not to. She continues to amaze me and I absolutely adore the young lady that she is turning in to.  This time 13 years ago, I was 2 weeks overdue and the size of a cow, stuck in a bath tub, wishing she would vacate my body... see things do get better :-)

6 MONTHS 0F CHEM0 VS. 6 MONTHS RECOVERY

No contest. Chemotherapy was easier!!! There I've said it.

Recovery is a dark lonely place. The phone calls and messages stop (apart from very close friends and family)...well after all, you've beaten cancer, you are alive and on your way to feeling 'normal' again are you not! Be thankful, you are one of the lucky ones. How happy you must be. How lucky you are that you are not at work. Must be so nice to be at home every day. Then come the messages from people who feel guilty for not being part of your journey, so they push their feelings onto you..."I've not heard from you, I feel that our friendship has changed, I'm not sure how to process all of this".

I thought back in February that I was doing ok. I started back at the gym finally, ok very gradually but I built it up to three times a week. I went out on my own in the evening for the second time since my treatment finished and I thought things would improve mentally for me. Not at all. I think it was around treatment 7 in June last year I wrote about treading water. I feel like I am treading water again, frantically treading water. I just can't find the joy in this new life that I have. I used to be a dreamer. I would dream of things, plan things, look forward and be so excited about most things in life. I feel empty. I have become this fabulous actress. I get up and put that Mummy smile on. I get joy from my girls but I feel as though I'm just gliding through their lives. They are so used to me being at the hospital now for check ups, blood tests, being asleep because 'Mummy is tired (STILL...6 MONTHS AFTER CHEMO HAS FINISHED!!!!). I often wonder if they remember the Mummy that I was... I find myself smiling and saying "yes I feel great" to anyone who asks how I am. Much easier than saying, well to be honest I still often shit myself, I feel tired every 4th to 5th day of the week, I often just want to hide under the duvet because it is easier than dealing with simple day to day tasks and I really can not focus on the future anymore, oh and I will sometimes just spontaneously burst into uncontrollable tears. Thanks for asking though.

Cancer awareness, how fabulous is that. Yes, we must raise awareness of cancer, I appreciate that and I do and will continue to try and educate people about my cancer, colon cancer but, how about raising awareness for the cancer treatment and it's aftermath !! Why are there no leaflets to help explain these horrific side effects, how cancer and the treatment will change you. My particular chemo has left me with permanent neuropathy and although I have learnt to live with this, I wish I had known that I would need to learn to walk again, teach myself how to use my hands again and that I would be in constant pain daily, which will then wake me each night with the shooting pains through my bones...but at least I am able to use a knife and fork as that was embarrassing for a while!

I know that every cancer is different, each treatment is different as are the people who have to suffer this disgusting illness. I know that each sufferer deals with this in their own unique manner BUT I do know that I am not the only one who feels this way. The problem is that after treatment has finished, everyone assumes the journey is over. It is only the beginning. I feel joy for those who just pick up where they left off. Not everyone can do that. I obviously can't seem to do that. Nobody wants to admit that they are not happy after treatment has finished and they have been told that they have the all clear for now. We have to reach 5 more years of all clears and this involves a lot of hospital visits, a lot of blood tests, scans and with colon cancer, a colonoscopy each year. Everyone expects you to be back to normal. We are not. Normal will never be the same again. It is a new 'normal' which it seems takes time to adjust to.

Although feeling a bit low and lost, there are a lot of good things going right now. Our home is being totally renovated, my port was removed this week and my little family continue to be absolutely amazing. I can see that I am blessed, I am just struggling with my new me at the moment. Nobody wants to be the new girl in the class do they and that is how I feel at the moment. I think it will take a while to like this new girl. I do tell myself on a day to day basis to 'buck up', 'get a grip' but as with being a parent (why is there no handbook for being a parent?), nobody gives you a handbook on how to deal with cancer and the months after it. I am sure I will get there...albeit slowly.

2016: THE BEAT GOES ON

Rollercoaster rides are terrifying for me. I always think I'm going to fall out and die. I have the anxiety of when will this bloody awful ride finish and even when I get off and know that I am on the ground and safe, I still feel sick and unsure for a while afterwards. This is what it is like after cancer and chemotherapy.



Christmas came and went. Littles back to school and Chris back to work. Me at home with me. So many hospital appointments since January...15 in total. Well at least those appointments made me leave the house. I had developed (since the chemo finished in September) this dislike in leaving the house. I can't even say it was a fear, because the thought of going out didn't scare me, and everyday when I woke up I would tell myself that today would be the day I'd go out for a long walk in the fresh air, but there was something deep inside that was stopping me, this anxiety would start up in the pit of my stomach. This in turn then angered me. "What is wrong with you Amanda" I would actually say out loud to myself. I found plenty to do indoors and I did manage get to shops to get food in for the family and take Scruffy for a small walk, but it was always local, my safe ground, not too far from home! I think at first when the chemo finished, my neuropathy was so horrific that I was anxious not to go too far (well I could hardly walk) in case I got stuck and couldn't get home, plus I still felt sick and so tired BUT we were now in January and I was getting stronger and my legs were so much better. Come on. I should be back at the gym by now shifting this extra 8 kilos, I should be out walking around the shops looking at clothes, meeting friends and being thankful for being alive. Oh I was thankful, in abundance but that just didn't make me feel any better! I just couldn't understand this feeling, such an empty feeling. Not a depression, not even a sadness, just a vacant feeling of not even really knowing what I was supposed to be doing. Why was I not living? Amanda you beat cancer for now, get out there and show the world. Easy right and makes total sense?

Apparently not.

I was/am suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). According to my amazing therapist (she specialises in cancer and is linked to my clinic), I do not have to be so thankful, that actually it is ok to be just a tad pissed off that I got cancer and had to go through chemotherapy. As she so rightly pointed out, cancer is shit and it takes everything out of you. It is ok for me to want to be at home. It is ok to take things more slowly. I am not that woman I was before and actually that is ok. I unexpectedly cried when we discussed this. I didn't realise that I was angry at getting colon cancer and that I was indeed hurting so deeply. I worked so hard at staying positive through my treatment, obviously I had down days where the tears came but I never really felt deep anger. I did in this session. It felt good to feel it then release it. We are working together. I have my little exercises that I must do and it is such a relief to find someone that understands everything that comes out of my mouth and can make total sense of it. It would seem, I am not an emotional wreck, just a woman who got cancer and is rebuilding her life slowly. After all it can take up to two years to recover from giving birth...I just need to be a bit more patient with myself.

So, days are getting better, much  better. I'm venturing out more and poor Scruffy is exhausted now after our walks. On the days I do not feel brave enough, I stay at home and I do not beat myself up about this. My neuropathy is still really bad. Just recently I had an Electromyography (EMG), and it would seem that I do have permanent toxic polyneuropathy and although my hands and feet have improved tremendously since September, I still have awful heat/cold sensitivity...even now typing my finger tips are freezing and I can not feel them, plus my fingers and toes permanently tingle, and I often have shooting pains up through my arms. The worst thing is though that I seem to have developed this inability to wear gloves, which of courser would help with the cold sensitivity, as textures on my hands give me the heebie jeebies. Our dishwasher broke recently (we are about to totally renovate our apartment, so have to wait for our new kitchen to be fitted), so thought I would wear rubber gloves to wash up. BIG MISTAKE. I was actually heaving whilst washing up, shaking my hands violently trying to get them off. So gloves are a no but socks are a BIG YES! If my feet are bare I find it difficult to walk...I live in Mallorca, what will I do come May. Socks and flipflops??

Well it's been a year since my diagnosis, a year since major surgery and nearly a year since I started my chemotherapy. Blimey. It has been a long, extremely difficult road to recovery and it certainly isn't over. Do I worry that the cancer will come back, well it does cross my mind very occasionally, I get that bloody "what iff" moment but I am not going to let that thought take over. People ask "what do you think you have learnt from this experience", for me that is too deep a question. Every step of a journey like this teaches you something, each step changes your views and opinions on so many life things. Everyones journey is so different. For me personally, I guess the biggest thing I've learnt is to live in the moment. No point in worrying about the past or the future, I am here now, right now.

This is my life and I am going to live it.

LIFE AFTER CHEMO - WHO AM I NOW?

Oh my, so much to say. So chemotherapy came and chemotherapy left. I thought the last session of chemotherapy I would be elated, I thought my room in the clinic would be decorated with balloons. If I had decorated my room it would have been with "what the f**k" balloons. I started this journey, this chemotherapy journey within absolute joyfulness, almost too much positivity. The problem is with chemotherapy, it takes away the layer of your own personality, it peels away layers of yourself and everything there is of you. Nobody tells you about the chemotherapy, nobody tells you about the mental side of this therapy, and nobody tells you of the physical side of it. The problem is with colon cancer, it is just not sexy enough. There are no pink ribbons, big pink fluffy hearts, mostly it is all about bathroom visits and shitting your pants. Who talks about that? Also, the problem with chemotherapy for colon cancer, patients is that you look okay. I had my hair, I did not lose weight, in fact I got fat! Cancer gets bald and skinny right! In reality, not my cancer, not my treatment.

So I had my last chemotherapy treatment  in September & the scan then all clear results (threw myself...boobies out of dress kinda throw at my consultant & big kiss on face!!!) I went home, and life started again. apparently. Life did not start again for a while, life became more difficult, yes I got the all clear and, yes the balloons should be in my house, yes I should be partying and celebrating no cancer. The problem is with getting an all clear after the chemotherapy, is that you must remain cancer free for five years. The cancer umbrella remains. Now I am not being negative, in fact I'm being very positive, but the truth is the cancer umbrella is with me/us for another five years! Five years of scans & tests every couple of months. I have two littles that will be busy the next five years. Do we really have time for this! I became very scared to leave the house. I had been in this house for seven months, in my bedroom, in my bathroom being sick. I have forgotten how to be me! I got scared of the outside. I forgot who i was. Is there a me after all of this?

So I am now three months from my last chemotherapy treatment, my neuropathy is off the scale of hideousness, my fingers my toes, every day it is a new challenge. I am getting used to this new me. We laugh when I drop things, the knife on the cats head, poking Roxanne in the eye doing her hair for her ballet classes. Life has changed. Do I feel better that life has changed? Yes actually yes to be honest, I actually feel privileged to know how precious life is. The problem is with humans we take for granted our lives. I mean, we all know that we're going to die, the problem is for most of us, we never really have it put, smack bang in our faces do we? If we did, most of us would make some changes. For me having cancer, for having chemotherapy it has made me re-evaluate things that I find important to me. Life is more urgent now. I am finding the new me and accepting her. I will be honest, I did also morn the old me. I miss some aspects of her, but I am embracing and accepting the changes.

Christmas will be special this year. Christmas is always special in our house but I think this year the hugs will be tighter and longer. I can not wait for christmas morning...

ROUND 10 & 11: 45 WITH FEARS & TEARS

It seems like forever ago that I updated my blog and it's not because I had nothing to say, I had plenty to say but sometimes things are best left unsaid!!!  It's been a tough few weeks and to be honest, took me by surprise at how low I got in such a short space of time. Strange really as I'm at the finishing line almost, so you would think that I'd be excited like a 5 year old at Christmas,  but I just fell into a massive hole. The tears were continuous on a daily basis. My littles were away and Chris went back to work and I was home alone just crying. A complete and utter sadness fell upon me that I could not shift. No sure if it is/was fear of the unknown or maybe it was the chemotherapy playing havoc with my hormones or maybe I am just so generally run down AND both mentally and physically exhausted by all of this. Number 10 was fairly kind to me and although they have now stopped the Oxaliplatin, I do have the most horrendous neuropathy in my hands and feet. I struggle to use my hands for the most simplest of tasks. My feet are the same, so I fall over a lot. A week ago I was just standing in the bathroom at the sink and suddenly fell backwards into the bath - can you just picture that...it was fairly comical!

So I had my 45th birthday. Wasn't really fussed about celebrating it to be honest. It was the first time in 15 years that I had woken up alone as littles were still away and Chris working. Empty house. I had a moment when I woke up, the old "what ifs" tried poking their way through to me again. Historically, I woke up on my birthday wishing I hadn't started my celebrations 2 weeks previously as I normally had another few nights ahead of me of drinking and socialising but this year all I could think was "how many more birthdays I have got in front of me" Thankfully a handful of my girlfriends (and token guy - thanks Karl xxxx) came and met me for brunch, showering me with gorgeous gifts. I then had a fabulous sea view late lunch with the hubby. So all in all a good day.

Littles came home on 12th August and normal chaos in the house resumed. Happy mummy...you would think but still the tears and sadness continue??? So many things are playing on my mind. I can't help thinking about the future now. All of a sudden this feels so real. Not that the past 6 months have not been real, believe me, it's been like a living nightmare but my focus before was to get to this stage and now I am at this stage I have developed a fear for the future. I started this journey so openly positive with no fear and now, although I truly believe it will be ok, I have this deep fear. Does any of that make sense? I can't sleep at night so I am utterly exhausted every day and as I mentioned above, the neuropathy is just awful and so bloody painful. The pain shoots through my bones now and I wake with terrible cramps in my feet and legs. I drop things, I can not open or do up things, I struggle with normal daily tasks that require hands and feet. I have to really concentrate when I walk or I just fall or stumble. I am covered in bruises as I bump into things. I most probably look and act permanently pissed. Could be worse I guess. I get asked a lot indoors - do you need help, to which I shout frustratedly back "No, I can do it"!!!!

I am also dealing with people (only a handful but that's enough) and their attitudes. People's inability to grasp how it is to go through chemo. How is it I can go out on some days and not others, why can I attend some social functions but not others. Why do I not return all calls and messages. How can she feel ill when she looks ok. Really?  Should I have just stayed at home then in my bedroom feeling sorry for myself? Just because I have a smile on my face and my dolly on, don't underestimate the utter struggle that I am going through...or better still, just ask me what I am going through and I'll happily explain it to you.

So mini moan over. Positives: Littles are home. Hurrah. One of my birthday presents from them and the hubby was tickets for the littles and I to go and see Don Quixote by the Moscow Ballet at the Palma Auditorium.  Little Roxy was so excited as it was her first trip to the ballet. We got dressed in our pretty dresses and lots of lip gloss. Another beautiful memory made. No tears just lots of smiles.

Positive: One of my best friends gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. A new life to enjoy.

Positive:  I have a new oncologist who is amazing. He has answered all of my questions and concerns which were previously answered with just a "it's normal" comment. He gives me some confidence in this revolting treatment.

Positive: I still have hair...it looks terrible but I still have it. Still none on my body which of course is a massive HURRAH :-)

Positive: My nails look bloody fabulous...strange really as I can't feel my finger tips so cutting them (they need cutting every 2/3 days..go figure!!) is interesting and challenging with a hint of danger thrown in.

Positive: I have a great circle of friends & family who are doing their best to keep me upbeat on a daily basis. Love these fabulous souls and their little whatsapps and phone calls. Keep them coming because I do truly appreciate them. Sorry if the answer is short and to the point but I can't feel my fingers to type on an iPhone  ;-)

Positive: My husband still tolerates me and continues to be a rock through all of this.

So just finishing number 11 this week and although it's been hideous so far with the sickness, it is number 11, so that means final chemo is booked for 2nd September, my scan is booked for 16th September (to see if I am clear of Trevor) and I get my results on 23rd September. In between all of that, my smallest little has an 8th birthday to celebrate on 12th September... which of course we will in style with BIG SMILES on our faces. Roller coaster of a month. I will be honest, I am petrified. I am positive. Up and down with the emotions. So much hangs in these next few weeks. Bizarre to think that my body already knows, it already has the answer inside but I have to wait just a little bit longer.

As always we will deal with whatever is thrown our way. I'm hoping it's a lot smaller than what it threw us in January.

ROUND 9: FEELING HAPPY, RELAXED AND OPTIMISTIC

Wow what a 3 week break that was. My mum came over for a couple of days, was great to have a couple of days with her again and then she and Grampy took the girls back to the UK to start their 4 week break. I am so used to Madi being away now, she has travelled a lot for a girl of 12 and although it is always hard to say goodbye to her or take her to the airport, I've accepted that at this young age she already has the travel bug, however, saying goodbye to my Roxy was horrendous. This was the first time my baby girl had been away, on a plane without me. I knew she was beginning to struggle with the thought of going, although overly excited, because she kept climbing up onto my lap and holding my hand a lot. On the morning of 16th she didn't say too much and then it was time to go, they left very early around 7am...uff thought my chest would explode with the pain of saying goodbye, especially right now after all we have been through. I couldn't go to the airport as not enough room in the car. Apparently she cried as soon as she got to the street and then all the way to the airport, my heart sank when I heard that. When they landed Madi sent me photos of a very happy Roxy with her inflight food pack, laughing her head off. Food seems to cure all it seems.

So kids away, off Chris and I went for our 5 days away to stunning Pollensa. Hotel was simply gorgeous, with friendly happy staff  and although we were restricted by my ridiculous side effects (no beach as too hot, limited pool time as too hot and not able to be in the sun without hat and factor 50, not being able to walk far as too hot and I am completely exhausted right now) we did manage to have a good time. Very relaxed, lots of sight seeing and exploring parts that we hadn't been to before (such a beautiful island we live on) a lot of "mindfulness" moments and feel good factors seeing such beautiful things and just being in the now moment. We also had a LOT of good food - good for the soul, albeit maybe not the waist !! The whole no sun thing is strange. I am beginning to feel like an extra from Twilight. I used to be a sun goddess and now I am wearing long sleeves, factor 50 which leaves my legs with a thick white waxy covering, big hats and Jackie O shades. The chemo makes your skin super sensitive, just another side effect to deal with. Thankfully I have some great fake tan...thanks Mum.

So all in all I am feeling ok in myself. Even though I went 3 weeks with no treatment, I still have awful side effects which seem to be staying now. My neuropathy is rotten. My hands hurt, find it hard to do up buttons and pick up small things or open things, so I'm pretty much just walking around the house naked now (not a good look after 5 days of eating), but it's just too much energy to try and do clothes up!!!  It has also gone to my teeth, very strange feeling there and now full time into my legs. I get every 10 minutes these bizarre mild electricity flashes up the front of my calves. I still have hair on my head albeit very thin and limp, so just tied back each day now, no hair on my body - bonus! Nails growing like crazy but eyelashes are a fond memory...will get some extensions as soon as I have finished my last chemo, you know some bad ass massive lashes, just to make a point !!   The biggest problem for me which I know increases as the treatments continue is the utter exhaustion. I am not able to walk for long and this frustrates me, really frustrates me. In this heat, I struggle more. We really do take our bodies for granted. Actually we take most things for granted and do not truly appreciate everything we have. I was amazed at how many miserable people go on holiday, how many couples just sit there and look in the opposite direction. Did they not see what I could see? How could they not take in the beauty of their surroundings and be thankful they were able to get away from it all for a couple of weeks. I live here but just seeing the mountains and the sea made me smile.

So only had one major breakdown in 3 weeks (apart from the heartache of saying goodbye to the littles) and it was on our first night there whilst out for dinner -  in public of all places !!! As you know, I've had tears and mini breakdowns but this one, oh hello...it just came like a tidal wave, all the things I had obviously been feeling but not vocalised enough just poured out of me. What if I die, what if it comes back, we've sorted my life insurance yes Chris? Will you make sure you don't let the girls forget me. Should I write them letters just in case? Can't believe this happened to us, it will be over us forever. What if I die whilst they are away. You know, I guess all the usual things. I just sobbed and sobbed and sobbed into my dinner. I didn't care there were other dinners, I just needed to get it all out. I must have looked like Alice Cooper by the end of it all as I had put on so much mascara to try and have some eyelashes. Oh what a mess. Next day woke up and felt like a great weight had been lifted from me. Although I am happy and optimistic, I think I needed to get some of that emotional baggage out of me.

So am now attached to number 9. Number 9 - only 3 more to go...how bloody fantastic is that! So far, I am feeling ok. Very tired as usual but no dry heaving and only slightly nauseous. Still have the 'wind' problem, but have a feeling that is for life. I am still off the anti sickness meds and feeling very proud of myself for that. Apart from the chemo mix, I am taking no other medication. Obviously this all could change after tomorrow afternoon when I get unhooked from Charley the chemo pack as this is normally when all the side effects kick in, but I feel determined now. To be honest, I really do not care how I feel for the next 3 treatments. Throw your worst at me because I am on the home track...I am nearly done. I am impatient now, I want this over. I want me back and to start building my life again. Very much looking forward to writing about ROUND 12. I've put my big girl pants away for the time being as I feel I do not need them now. I've can see a light a very big bright light at the end of this life changing tunnel and that is called my happy healthy future.

ROUND 8: MINI MELTS AND LIFE CLARIFICATION

So round 8. Nasty for 4/5 days.  I've decided no more anti sickness meds as they are steroids which in turn have made me bloat up like a puffer fish and given me nasty blurred vision and upon further investigation have a whole heap of nasty side effects, which I seem to have had most of them. Soooooo, no more anti sickness meds...has been hard, thrown up a couple of times, a few dry heaves but to be honest I've done ok... maybe it's mind over vomit - sorry I mean mind over matter. I truly believe if you tell yourself you can do something your will. Don't get me wrong, I've had a few oscar worthy chuck up moments... amazing how I can dash from the kitchen through the front room into our bathroom and still hit bulls eye...anyone who knows our apartment will realise the distance from our kitchen to our bathroom is not small.... we have a very large apartment (plus side, additional exercise).  

4 more to go. You would think I'd be over the moon. I am. I really am. I've done so well. A few tears along the way, no major breakdowns. Children coping, husband supporting, so why oh why did I decide that this round I would have a COMPLETE AND MAJOR BREAKDOWN!!!! So got to Friday, the day I'm unhooked. Got to the clinic, saw the reception desk for Oncology and completely and unashamedly lost it. I broke down. No idea why. I didn't want to go in. Had enough of this utter cancer bullshit. Come on Amanda, Friday's are good, it means unhook day from from the chemo pack, but from nowhere, this utter heartache came. I cried.  I just couldn't get it together. I stood in front of the nurses station outside of oncology and just cried and sobbed and cried. Chris went inside and waited for me to get myself together, which of course I did. Wiped my eyes, fluffed up my remaining hair (still have some) and went in.  So unhooked, weekend can begin. Lets go with the side effects, I can do this. So Thursday, Friday, Saturday and most of Sunday - sleep, sleep, vomit, eat a bit, sleep, repeat.

I spent most of the weekend being a wet fish. I sob a lot. To be honest I am not really sure what I am crying about. It's heart wrenching the sobbing. I am not angry. I am not scared. I am just crying. I am a complete and utter bitch on this round. I am not so nice to the girls, snapping at Chris. I have no patience. Poor babies...of course I am not angry or upset with them, I just have this intolerance inside of me right now. Roxy climbs up into my bed on Sunday morning and strokes my head and Madi snuggles under my arm...calm is restored. We wrap ourselves around each other and just lay there. Your children have this amazing love smell about them, it's like you can always identify your child from their smell. If you haven't done this... take a minute to smell your child.

So life changes every day. I am changing every day. I can not tolerate inconsequential bullshit now. I have gained new friends along the way and lost a couple. Both are good and necessary. Don't get me wrong, I am not religious and had a "life changing experience" but I have had a life enhancing experience. I truly believe that I must learn from this. Give something back. I will work that out. I'll come back to you on that.  I do feel this urgency about life "stuff". I was before a full time working mum, gym bunny, social girl, mother, wife. I now feel this need/desire to be very close to home. Does that mean before all of this, I wasn't such a good mother/wife? Was I selfish. Do we as woman try and divide ourselves into so many pieces? I can not be the only person beating cancer questioning this.

Sooooo, 4 more to go. I have agreed with my doctor to have a 3 week break. The littles go away next week for 4 weeks... uff, will have another breakdown...but it does mean Chris and I can have a few days away together, albeit here as I can not really leave the island. So, looking forward to another break from Chemo me, will try and cope with the littles being away. They so need to be away from this/me and be in a 'normal' environment. They will be with nannas and grandads and aunties. Having fun. They need fun as they have been such strong little warriors. They amaze me. They need "cancer mummy" free time. You see, it's not only me beating this/travelling this. Can you imagine being a 12 or nearly 8 year old and trying to navigate this journey. I would imagine being in the UK with family will be the most fantastic release for them. Makes me smile...although I will miss them terribly.

So, round 9 is booked for 22nd July. Bring it on. So close to the end now. I previously wrote about being in a rabbit hole... I am now so far from falling, I am climbing up onto the edge of that rabbit hole...

Nearly there. Nearly there.