Monday 30 December 2013

Happy 2014, Everyone

I'd like to say, 'A New Year- a new Me'- but I know that I just don't mean it. I never do, resolutions get more and more self improving and I never actually keep to them. I wish I did but I think keeping to 'Eat less chocolate' is being a little harsh on myself.
We're all a little harsh when it comes to resolutions though, I suppose- always looking at our faults, for things to improve in our personalities or bodies, when really we should be celebrating that we made it another year.
Life is difficult, and surviving it is a bloody great achievement, I think. So for everyone who is suffering an illness- congratulations on making it to 2014. And I don't just mean the cancer's and the auto immune's and the blood disorder's and whatnot, but the mental illnesses too. The depressions and the social anxiety's and the schizophrenia's, and all of you wonderful people. And to all you others too, the carers, the ones dealing with loss, or stress or actually the ones who are happy, the ones that remind us that it is strangely possible in this life. You've made it through another year too- and celebrate that tonight because though it happens every 365 days- it is an amazing achievement EVERY time it comes around.
                                             Happy 2014.

On a more personal note, to everyone who made it possible for me to be celebrating this.

To everyone who stuck by me this year (again), thank you, for everything. I wouldn't have made it without you. To the ones that left- you missed one hell of a ride.
To the friends that put up with the late night freak outs or the sad phone calls and the mood changes and the moments where I wasn't the good friend I should have been, it means so much to me that you stayed. You gave me courage.
To the family (and those close friends that aren't legally family but you are to me) who rang and messaged and kept me in your hearts and prayers- thank you. Every time you rang, or sent cards, you gave me hope.
To the baby sister, the one who never complained when I had to be put first, who had to watch me scream in agony or throw up and pretend to not be scared, and help. To the girl who had to grow up so fast, and who always showed nothing but love to me, even though sometimes I was perfectly horrid to you. You were so so brilliant, you beautiful girl, and you gave me strength.
To the parents- the Mum and Dad who had to watch their little girl go through all of the horrors that I had to go through, who had to worry that maybe they didn't get to keep me forever and who had to deal with all the tearful nights, the 'I can't do it any more' days and the months of me not being the daughter they knew any more. While everyone else gave me strength, hope and courage- You kept me alive.
And finally- to me. Because I survived. I SURVIVED. I am proud of that, no matter how small or big a victory it is to anyone else. Someone said to a friend of mine recently- 'Lily isn't the ONLY one in the world with cancer'. I know that's true, and I have some beautiful fighting friends that I have met and kept along the way- but just because I am the only one does not make my experience less painful, less awful or less amazing that I won it in the end. I am not the only one, and I only wish more were in the position I am in now, but I can say now that I am going into 2014 with fabulous friends, a brilliant boyfriend, fantastic family- and a tumour free chest. To all of you who made this even possible- 2014 is for you.

I leave you now, with the final words of the ninth Doctor:
                       "You were fantastic. And you know what?
                                    So was I."

Wishing you all a very happy and healthy New Year.
Always, and indebted.
B. Baldy x




Sunday 29 December 2013

In the beginning there was... anger, apparently

At the beginning of all this- cancer, I mean- I used to be so horrible to everyone around me. Like, so selfish and nasty and would snap at everyone and get really annoyed if I didn't get what I wanted. I was particularly horrible to family and friends (my folks, mostly) and I do regret that. But I hope that they know it wasn't me. Well, it was. But it wasn't- if you see what I mean. 
I think cancer can do that to a person. I was just so angry at what had happened, so angry that I had lost EVERYTHING- so angry that I now saw some things that I was perfectly fine with before, but suddenly didn't accept. I don't think I ever stop to think what other people were losing around me, or by acting so pathetically that I was causing them to lose ME.
Then when I was given the all clear for the second time, I had this strange sensation that I was missing something. That I wasn't ready to let go of the cancer, that I had lived with it for what had seemed an age and it was MINE, that it defined me. I remember crying, crying because it was over but also crying because I wanted it back. None of the horrible parts obviously, like the infections or the pain or the sickness and definitely not the fatigue- but cancer somehow gave me purpose. Like I had something to fight/fight for suddenly. Well, until I got a chest pain one afternoon in school and then the paranoia that I would have to do it all over again kicked in. Didn't love the cancer so much after THAT.
I suppose when I was re-diagnosed, I had this panic that I would be exactly how I was before and lose friends because of it (actually, turns out having cancer loses you friends anyway, no matter how you try to be nice) or that I would not actually be able to fight it and forever be known as the girl who was horrible right before she kicked it from cancer. That's why I decided to be better, to try to think of other people and get out more rather than lying on the sofa feeling utterly sorry for myself. It was sort of like a do-over of my cancer experience. I mean, I hated having cancer half the time; the infections, the agony, the staring in the street, the hair loss, all of it was horrific and I wouldn't ever wish it upon anyone or ever go through it again- but it's part of me now, and I'm glad I acted like I did the second time round (for the most part). Cancer doesn't define me, but it did make me who I am now. Hopefully that's a better person, a nicer person, but only time against number of friends will tell that (joking). Right now, in this moment, among every other moment from now on, I feel like I can fully live without my cancer. Not without my 'cancer friends' that I met along the way, or without remembering what it was like, or how I got through it, but just without that tumour and without the chemo. It seems strange saying how I can FINALLY live withOUT it, but I think that any way of life becomes normal if you live it long enough- and although it's nice being better, truthfully I miss some of the days where I only had to worry that I wasn't going to make it home from chemo in time to watch the Kardashians, or that my biggest stress was that I had slept through Made In Chelsea while in hospital and they don't have catch up TV. And I know that they weren't my only worries- like I had the 'will the neuropathy come back' or 'will I be sick with this one' or 'will I be in pain forever' or even the 'will I die' at some points, but all of them seemed normal to me, and getting back to normal life is much harder than leaving it, I've found.
I'm glad I'm getting back now. It's nice, it's like coming home after a long trip and being jet lagged and knowing you have to unpack all the suitcases is overwhelmingly stressful but you're happily tired because nothing can take away the fact that you're HOME.

In the words of Gloria Gaynor, I WILL Survive.

Love to you all (or whatever is left of you), Befuddled <3

P.S- I wrote this at 3am so please don't take any of what it says to be anything less than my subconscious rambling about the silliest things. Much Love, B x


Sunday 1 December 2013

*Strrrreeeeeesssssss*

Hey everyone, I'm not sure how many people are still reading this as I haven't posted in so, so long. But to the remaining few- Hallo!
Not all that much has happened since I last wrote, to be perfectly honest. A lot of work, and I mean A LOT OF WORK is being done at the moment in my room. By me. I think my eyes are sore from how many things I've had to read and re-read. *Streeeeeesss*
We went to Ireland in half term- for Halloween- which was nice. Although, I have to be honest and say that actually I didn't feel too, TOO safe there being so far from a hospital since I was only three and a half months out of treatment. I also missed my familiar room and all my routines so it was a little difficult. Though actually I had fun- and it was nice seeing all of my relatives.
I came back and had a whole WEEK off school (which, in itself, was hoooorrible- I was going stir crazy) because of, what they found in the end was, a vitamin D deficiency. Brilliant. So that brought difficulties as I can't swallow tablets so I'm now on drops and crushed up tablets. Then, I had a fertility appointment to check how my hormones and everything were doing after treatment- and that included a pelvic scan and some blood tests. So in that week alone I had three blood tests on three consecutive days- what a nightmare!! Then it was just work and school, trying to catch up on everything, although I did have to drop an A Level subject and accept the fact that I was going to have to do three years of sixth form- I think that's the best thing for me though. I'm way less stressed and tired than I was before, and managing a heck of a lot better.
And then, a couple weeks ago, I had my fertility results appointment. Unfortunately they told me that I won't actually be able to have my own children and that my ovaries have basically shut down. I think it was one of the worst things I have ever had to sit through, and for about a week after I beat myself up about it- going through lists of things I would trade for it back in my head at night, or wondering if I could have done something different and it wouldn't have happened, or chosen the other less damaging treatment when I was given the option at fourteen. Of course, now I'm thinking slightly more rationally, I realise that my fourteen year old self would not have been thinking of having kids or keeping her fertility- but rather just keeping fighting and giving herself the best chance possible. So she should have been, and I don't really regret that decision at all. I guess in those low points, I swung between feeling as if everything had been taken from me, or that I was just a failure as a girl. One thing women are able to do- conceive, have children- and I can't even do it. I know its irrational, and actually completely against half of my feminist views to think that that is the one thing women are really good at, but hey ho. I don't think people my age, my friends, understand, just like they don't understand what I really went through during treatment or how hard recovery is. Its one of those things where you have to really have seen how much someone has lost, felt how someone has felt- I guess you just have to put yourself in that persons position. And I know that's impossible for some people, for most people even. I don't begrudge anyone that, but I think that friends- even though they don't understand, even though they don't GET IT, they're there because they know how much it hurts YOU.
Anyway- enough of the heavy heavy. I went to the christmas fayre this weekend, the same one I wrote about a couple years ago when I first began my treatment. All I could think when I was there was that I had walked the same path through the same stalls, smelled the same christmassy smells at the beginning of my cancer journey and that I was back again- but better. Stronger. A new person, really, I think. I'm more mature, but I don't take myself too seriously. I even got my face painted in New Look! It's always a high point, having people stare as I- a sixteen year old sixth former- sit and get a snowman painted on my face.
I love Christmas time though, and I really always feel like the Christmas Fayre is the beginning of the Christmas season (I was listening to christmas music weeks ago but shhh). The other lovely thing in November was that I went to London with my boyfriend, to see all the christmas decorations and to visit the christmas sections in Harrods and Selfridges. We got lost once (on Oxford/Regent street) but apart from that it was an AWESOME day and we didn't even feel the cold or how far we'd walked- it was too exciting! And then in the evening it was all topped off by snuggling at home watching the DOCTOR WHO 50TH SPECIAL WHICH WAS ABSOLUTELY AMAZING AND TOM BAKER WAS IN IT AND IM NOT EVEN GOING TO GO ON ABOUT IT BECAUSE I'LL COME ACROSS AS A TOTAL DORK.
Anyway- it's been an up and down couple of weeks, and I'm sorry I haven't written in so long, and I probably won't write for a while because I have so much work- but stay with me, loveys. I'm not going anywhere.
Lots of love, Not at all bald anymore but definitely still Befuddled <3