More from me...

Hello again!

Now I know what you all must be thinking, something along the lines of "But she doesn't even have cancer anymore, why is she blogging still?" The cold, hard truth is that I love it too much to stop - so deal with it. It may possibly be because I love talking about myself but here we are. One of the many things cancer has made me realise is that I need to stop living my life as if I'm permanently apologising for existing. So I like blogging and I will continue to do it until I'm the only one reading my blogs - even then I'm still going to do it. OK? Glad we got that sorted.

First things first - a big MERRY CHRISTMAS to you all! Tis the season to be jolly and all that jazz, I hope Santa brings you all everything you wish for (if you've been good boys and girls obviously). Here's a little Christmas themed photo for you all:

Yes that is Warren and I, posing with Toby as if he was our child - I am fully unashamed of that fact. In fact, I'm so unashamed that I almost printed it and sent it as our Christmas card. Maybe next year?

Now for a few little updates in the (quite frankly thrilling) life of me. Firstly, not many people know but I had a scan booked in for a few weeks ago as I thought I had found another lump. As you can probably imagine it was a particularly nerve wracking time and brought back a few flashbacks of last January - something I'm not overly keen on reliving to be honest. I am happy to report that there is nothing to report, except for scar tissue which was the cause of the lumps and my teeter on the edge of a breakdown. So yay! Larry hasn't returned! I like to imagine that he's off on a beach somewhere living it up and has no desire to come back. Fingers crossed, right?

Next on the agenda: I have been back at work since November but have just finished my second week of doing actual clinical work - wahoo! I am doing a phased return so am currently only doing two short shifts a week but by the beginning of February I will be back to full time (and full normality!) again. It is at this point that I need to do a mahoosive shout-out to the bloody brilliant people that I work with - I was such a nervous wreck at the thought of coming back but you are all absolutely amazing people who have welcomed me back and made me feel massively loved; thank you for everything - from generally supporting me and putting up with my million student-esque questions to just telling me that my hair looked OK - I bloody love you! Don't go changing, team.

Thirdly, I can't let this blog publish without telling you about the time Faye (one of my besties and soon to be bridesmaid) and I met Greg James (yup, radio 1 Greg James). I entered a prize draw with Coppafeel (flipping amazing charity - check them out) and won tickets to an Oh Wonder gig (flipping amazing music - check them out) with Greg James. Such. A. Good. Night. Surreal, but good. Since having cancer I am trying to do (and plan) more exciting things and this definitely counts as one of those things. So Greg I'm pretty sure you'll never ever stumble across this blog but if you ever do then thank you.

A final update from me (and shameless plug, for which I apologise) is that I started a little Etsy shop. The main reason I chose to do this is because I did a lot of crochet throughout my treatment and have since come to the realisation that Warren isn't as obsessed with crochet as I am - funny that! So I would like to sell them to people that will love them as much as me. If you're interested, my little shop can be found at
https://www.etsy.com/uk/shop/ScrambledMegCrafts/
Get involved!

That's all for now, folks. Hope you enjoyed my teeny tiny update and are still planning to continue reading future (just as exciting) updates - if you are then thank you. If you're not then thank you for sticking with me this far, I hope you live a long and happy life and never ever meet Larry or any of his friends.

Have a lovely Christmas everyone!

Love, Meg xx

P.S. Liking my story? Why not follow or subscribe by email below? I promise I won't bombard you with lots of blog posts, I'm strictly a every few weeks kinda gal.

Life goes on and on and on.

It's been a while, but I am back!

Now I am fully aware that I have gone a bit "off the radar" in terms of blog posts, but boy-oh-boy have I been busy! With lots of amazing stuff, plus a few crap times. So come with me now as I take you through the journey that has been the last month and a half in the life of me...

Firstly, we need to talk about radiotherapy. Mainly just to say that I kicked that bad boy in the butt! My last session was the 4th October and I cannot be happier to have finished. I do have to say a huge, well deserved THANK YOU to the team on machine LA9 at Mount Vernon - if you ever read this just know that you are truly fantastic people who made this very nervous person feel more than relaxed. Muchas gracias, bloody awesome team.

Here comes one of the crappy times though, unfortunately. After radiotherapy had finished, my body decided to let me down AGAIN (was cancer not enough, body? Eh?) and my skin in the area where I had radiotherapy broke down massively and incredibly painfully. I don't think you need me to tell you that it sucked and more tears were shed; I'm pretty sure I have cried so much throughout this whole ordeal that I should resemble a raisin. Luckily for me the GP gave me lots of dressings and it has now cleared up! Hurrah! So it was crap but now it is not! Story of my life I think?

I imagine that you want to know what I've done with myself since finishing treatment, right? Living it up is the answer pretty much. I've been to two incredibly beautiful weddings, for one of which I have to give a shout-out to my very lovely friend Julia for allowing me to have the privilege of being her bridesmaid. Love you Ju! Here's a photo (everyone loves a wedding photo, right?):

Doesn't she look beautiful? And my wig stayed on even though it was quite windy, so that is a triumphant win for me!
I've also been to a little festival with my besties which was organised by the charity Coppafeel (if you don't know them, please google them - and check your boobs ladies!) where I got winked at by Matt Willis and we met Lauren Laverne (who definitely isn't Sarah Cox, looking at you Lynzy!) in the toilets! Awesome times!
Finally (I know, I have been a little busy!) I went on an epic holiday to Devon with my close family and had the most amazing week. Cheers fam, you awesome people you. 
What's that you say? You wonder what my nieces and nephews look like now? Well wonder no longer, because I have a photo for you:

Here they are! Here's Hattie, Rory, Evie and Henry! A whole bundle of cute craziness and I wouldn't change any of them for the world.

So, all in all, it's been a pretty spectacular month. However the time has come for me to go back to work and I have a meeting next week to sort out how that is going to go down; if any of my work colleagues are reading this then I will see you soon! I'm split about going back though; half of me craves the normality and the other half is addicted to daytime TV. Unfortunately watching Loose Women doesn't pay my bills, so the normality half wins. Wish me luck!

Finally, a little hair update for you all - it's growing back!! For my head, eyebrows and eyelashes this is awesome news, however for the rest of my body this is not quite so welcome. Also, my hair missed me so much apparently that it has decided to grow back with A VENGEANCE; I know you don't really want this image but I'm now halfway to becoming an actual gorilla. On the plus side, at least it is winter and the extra layer will keep me nice and toasty. Everything has a bright side, amiright?

In view of this hair miracle I have also now decided to go sans wig (except for incredibly special occasions). To get you all prepared, here is a heavily filtered photo of my current look:

I know right? Three photos in one blog post? Insanity! Also please ignore the red line on my fivehead - I had been wearing my wig that day and it loves to leave a mark, that is just one of the many reasons why I've decided to ditch it. So that's my face and head (and ears!!) - deal with it, ok? I know I have.

So Meg out for now team. I will update you with my transition into normal, post-cancer life soon, I promise to keep writing if you promise to keep reading. Also, if you'll allow me a little self-congratulatory moment, I have battled cancer and I bloody well won! I've been so busy jumping from one treatment stage to the other that I've never appreciated that fact. I am fecking awesome!

Peace out, blog fans.

Love, Meg xx

P.S. Liking my story? Why not follow or subscribe by email below? I promise I won't bombard you with lots of blog posts, I'm strictly a every few weeks kinda gal.

Radio Ga-Ga

All we hear is... Radiotherapy (wait, that's not right is it?)

It has now been six and a half weeks since my last chemotherapy session and boy-oh-boy has it been a bit crazy here. Some very lovely things have happened; I went to a friend's abso-ma-lutely beautiful wedding where I may have had a bit too much fun (shout out to my saviours Laura and Fi, you know what you did and I am still eternally grateful) and I managed to attend Belmont and Carey Youth Camp (an annual camp that I have been attending since the age of ten) - a massive thank you to everyone at camp this year for putting up with my constant need to nap and pretending not to see any tearful/tired dramatic episodes that I had, I genuinely love you all.

I'm sorry to report, however, that it hasn't all been rainbows and sunshine since chemotherapy ended all those weeks ago; my main issue has been that the side effects still don't know when to quit. Naively I thought that they would be gone within a few weeks and me and my stubbly head would be skipping off into the sunset. Nope. What actually happened was my eyes remained sore, I remained incredibly tired, and my hair (and nails!) stubbornly refused to grow back. Things stayed that way until about two weeks ago, when I started to see a light at the end of the incredibly long chemotherapy tunnel. And you know what? Two weeks ago I started radiotherapy, which comes along with its own side effects. So basically big shout out to my body: you suck.

One other not so great thing that has come out of this is that I am currently experiencing terrible symptoms pertaining to the menopause. If you are male and would rather not hear about 'lady things' then please feel free to skip this paragraph; to be honest I would if I could too, it is incredibly depressing. Basically I am hot flushing/night sweating all over the place and as a lady that already wears a wig it is an incredibly sweaty experience. The main issue with this is that I don't know if it is a temporary menopause (which is common with the chemotherapy that I received) or if it is permanent - permanent obviously means I can kiss goodbye to my dreams of getting pregnant without medical intervention. I don't want to dwell on it as it makes me cry A LOT and I can only wait and see. My fingers are crossed so bloody hard right now. The reason I'm telling you lovely people this (which some may consider TMI - apologies to those people) is for those that have me on Facebook or Instagram: please don't roll your eyes when I share a photo of any of my nieces and nephews doing something incredibly mundane and rave about how cute they are, I can tell you it will happen a lot more. You have been warned.

So that's all for the rubbish news, folks! Who wants to read some mildly hilarious stories about my radiotherapy adventure? All of you? Well read on!

On Monday 11th September I rocked up to Mount Vernon for the first of my eighteen radiotherapy sessions. Eighteen! I know, right? Pretty intense! I already had my little tattooed dots on my chest so I was good to go. It's not a particularly interesting experience - I lay on a little movable table with my arms up above my head and then two radiographers adjust my top half so that I'm in the exact place that I need to be (they fire little laser beams at me so that they can work this out, it's incredibly high tech!). After that they leave the room, shut me in, and then the machine rotates around me firing the radiotherapy rays from above and below. Ta dah! In total I'm in there for about ten minutes, it's all incredibly speedy. But do you want to know the one catch in it all is? I'm topless throughout. Completely. Those poor radiographers have the unenviable task of not only seeing big boob and little boob (like those? I named them all by myself) they also have to touch me to move me into the exact place that they need me to be. They are incredibly lovely about it and I know they do it all day everyday but when it's you laying there I have to admit you do feel incredibly self conscious. I like to stare at the ceiling and pretend I'm on a topless beach somewhere hot, it doesn't work at all but I keep trying. 

The one moment that makes me chuckle to myself when I think about it was last week: the machine stopped midway through my radiotherapy so they had to bring a little man in (who I hope was a mechanic, they never actually told me? Eeesh). I was laying there, topless as usual, but they obviously forgot about that (and so did I to be honest) until one of them ran at me and covered me over with the world's tiniest paper towel. It did the job but I'm now worried that I have scarred that poor man for life - if you're reading this, little man who may or may not be a mechanic, then please accept my deepest apologies. Radiotherapy, eh? Whoever said it wasn't the most fun you'll ever have is clearly a liar.

There you have it blog fans, that brings you up to speed with my life. All I have left to tell you is that my boob hurts and I'm incredibly tired, but I'm also waiting to turn into Spiderman - that's how it works, right? I am living the dream!

Love, Meg xx

P.S. Liking my story? Why not follow or subscribe by email below? I promise I won't bombard you with lots of blog posts, I'm strictly a every few weeks kinda gal.

Holy Chemo-ly!

It's a big, awesome update today blog fans!

Wowsers - it has been well over a month since my last post! Sorry about that avid readers out there but worry not as I have many updates for you today. Strap yourself in, it's about to go down.

Update number one and possibly the most important thing in my cancer journey so far: I HAVE ONLY GONE AND FLIPPING FINISHED CHEMOTHERAPY! I'm currently doing a small 'happy dance' as I type (and shout) that. My final dose was last Wednesday and I really wanted to post and update you all earlier but unfortunately the side-effects decided they weren't leaving without a bang; cue every single side-effect I've ever mentioned/struggled with appearing all on the same day and refusing to leave. Like socially awkward party guests they're still here but are slowly getting the hint that it's time to head home; if I could turn all the lights off and get them out sooner I totally would. The only thing keeping me sane is the thought that once they're gone, THEY'RE GONE. Finito. Never to ever appear again. I can't really remember what it was like when I felt 'normal' but I cannot wait for that day! Chemotherapy please consider yourself beaten, I owned you like a boss.

Although I have to say that my body didn't make my final dose easy, on the Monday prior to chemo I had my standard blood tests and found out that my pesky white blood cells were too low to even have the final dose. We rocked up on Wednesday as planned and they repeated the blood tests again, we then patiently waited to see if chemo would go ahead or be postponed by a week (Longest. Twenty. Minutes. Ever.) Luckily those little buggers had got their act together and multiplied to a good level (much appreciation for those little guys) so now here we are! I have to say I don't think the nurse was quite prepared for my ecstatic response when she told me that I would be having chemotherapy that day - I almost hugged her but then I quickly remembered I don't really like physical contact so I controlled myself. It was close though.

Here's a collage that I made of my time in the chemo suite:

Me and my many chins give Mount Vernon Chemotherapy Suite a big 'thumbs up'. Five stars but unfortunately I wouldn't go again.

"So Meg, is your cancer journey over now?" I hear you all ask? Unfortunately not team, now I'm moving on to the joy that is radiotherapy. Radiotherapy is where high-energy radiation is fired specifically at the site that Larry so recently vacated. I am scheduled for 18 doses in total, which means that, from 11th September, every day (Mon-Fri) for three and a half weeks I will pop over to Mount Vernon to be blasted with radiation for a few minutes. What a life! The plus side is that there are less side effects in comparison to the beast that is chemotherapy so I'm all over it like a rash.

Speaking of radiotherapy, today I went for my pre-radiotherapy planning appointment. This is a posh way of saying that I laid topless on a bench, had a little scan and then got tattooed (yes, you read that right - tattooed) with three little dots on my chest so that they know where to position the machine each day. That is one tattoo that I'm not overly keen on showing off, let me tell you. Also, I can now add three more to the list of people that have seen my boobs - it's almost getting to the point that I'd happily show anyone if they asked nicely enough. It's funny how matter of fact you become about showing people your boobs when you've had to whip your top off many many times! Page 3 here I come.

I have just realised that I have gone this long without updating you all on one thing that I am more than over the moon about - after my last chemotherapy dose they took out my PICC line which meant that I HAD MY LONG-AWAITED, MUCH-ANTICIPATED BATH! There's a lot of shouting in this blog today isn't there? I am unapologetic about that though, these awesome things definitely deserve it. Here's a photo of that epic moment for you all:

So. Many. Bubbles. And. So. Much. Awesomeness. I didn't want to leave and I've never seen my fingers so wrinkly than when I eventually dragged myself out. That definitely wins the best bath of all time award, I've only showered since as I'm worried my next bath will be a bit anticlimactic. We shall see. Also, those are my knees and not really pointy boobs. Having Larry the lump removed back in February means that unfortunately my boobs will never look like that, so I promise you that those are knees. 

For now I think those are all the updates I've got for you, I'm waiting for my hair to grow back and am a little bit excited to see it again. It's only been one week since my last dose, and I know that it can take a month or more, but every morning I find myself holding my breath and cautiously inspecting my head. It's like a long-lost friend returning, although if my body hair would like to stay away forever then I can't say I'll be upset. Yay to head, eyebrow and eyelash hair returning but boo to everything else.

So that's it for today team, thanks for tuning in everyone. Hopefully my chemo side-effects sod off, it's my birthday in two days and I really hope they're not holding out to join the celebration. I bet they are, the cheeky little sods.

Love, Meg xx

P.S. Liking my story? Why not follow or subscribe by email below? I promise I won't bombard you with lots of blog posts, I'm strictly a every few weeks kinda gal.

Chemo-do dragon.

Hi there. 

I want to introduce this latest blog post by explaining that I started this blog for two main reasons: firstly to inform friends and family of what was happening throughout this extremely long process; secondly to have a place to vent my feelings. With that in mind I just want to let you all know that this edition is written very much for the second reason, and it's not a good day. I do have two bits of good news to update you all with though; I'll put that first so that you can stop reading if you're not in the mood for anything depressing. I won't be offended I promise.

So good news first: I have a new nephew! Here he is:

Everyone meet little Henry, he's just so squish-able and lovely! He was born last week on my chemo day so that was a lovely distraction, fun Aunty Meg is onto a winner with all these nieces and nephews! I also have to say that both my sisters are absolute bosses at having babies, they both pretty much had to be persuaded it was time to go to hospital. Proud of you, ladies!

Next bit of good news: remember those genetic tests I spoke about last time? Well earlier this week I found out that I don't have any mutations in those genes, meaning that as far as they're concerned I'm not genetically predisposed to get cancer. This also means that neither are any other members of my family! Woop! This is good news! Although for me personally I kind of put the whole genetics thing onto a metaphorical pile to process at a later date so I'm not cracking out the champagne just yet; that pile is pretty huge so I'm sure it won't be processed for a while. I kind of feel like I've processed enough for now, OK? But I'm so proud of my little genes, those fellas did good! So now I'm just one of those weirdos that got cancer and they don't know why, lucky me right?

So that was the positive stuff. Feel free to cut out now as I'm warning you that it's downhill from here.

Last Wednesday I had my fourth dose of chemo, I'm aware that's not blog-worthy news but what is different is that for that dose and the last two to come I'm now on only one medication; a beauty by the name of Docetaxel. I'm not going to quiz you so you don't need to remember that name but what I would like to draw your attention to is the side-effects linked with this bad boy, these include (but are not limited to):

• nausea,
• diarrhoea,
• loss of appetite,
• feeling weak or tired,
• headaches,
• muscle pain,
• joint pain,
• dry mouth and mouth sores,
• fingernail or toenail changes.

I know what you're thinking, pretty standard chemo side-effect list right? I agree with you there, it is. The problem has come for me is that I have managed to develop all (and I mean all) of these side effects at the same time and they will not leave me alone. Plus, whoever simply typed out 'joint pain' did that side-effect a disservice; imagine laying in bed awake all night because every part of your body is aching and there's nothing you can do about it. Another lady on a cancer forum (FYI - never in my life did I think I'd be a cancer forum subscriber) compared it to 'feeling like you've been run over by a bus' and I 100% agree with her. Well, actually I feel like I've been run over by said bus, which has then reversed back over me for good measure and then everyone on the bus has disembarked and are now videoing me with dreams of going viral. But I get where she was coming from.

Also, fingernail and toenail changes? How generic. What that actually means is that your fingertips will actually throb all day long and your fingernails and toenails will feel like some invisible troll is peeling them off; but when you check them they're still there and if they had faces they would probably be laughing at you. I can't press the buttons on the remote control properly, which majorly upsets me and completely ruins my daily Netflix binges. 

Now, you may be able to sense some anger in my writing today and you would be correct, I am angry. The main reason for this is because it's been nine days since chemo and nothing is improving. Every morning I get out of bed (after my nightly insomnia routine) and it's all still there. If just one thing went away each day I would be a much happier Meg. But it doesn't and I'm not. This feeling is heightened by the fact that I get breathless and tired if I walk for longer than ten minutes so I'm also not really leaving the house, plus it's way too hot to wear my wig at the moment and my head is now 60% bald. So it's pretty crap all round right now. Believe me when I tell you that there have been many tears shed and a whole bunch of weepy counselling sessions with my dog Toby. He's a great listener, I highly recommend him. Thinking of buying him some glasses and a posh notepad and pen so he can really get into the counselling role.

So in summary, I am fed up. It's taken a whole blog to come to that conclusion, but sometimes you've just got to let it out, you know? I promise I will try to make my next post more upbeat, which means I probably won't be posting for a long time. Ha! Also, if any of my lovely colleagues are reading this then I'm so sorry that I haven't been in to see you all lately; you can probably tell that it has been a bit crap but I plan to come back to you as soon as I can. I'm trying the 'power of positivity' thing but my body hates me apparently.

Now if you'll excuse me, Toby has just informed me it's time for our daily counselling session. He gets super mad when I'm late.

To end with here's a little joke I read on the forum:

"Knock, knock."


"Who's there?"


"Not your white blood cells, that's for sure."

Us chemo people are pretty damn funny.

Love, Meg xx

P.S. Liking my story? Why not follow or subscribe by email below? I promise I won't bombard you with lots of blog posts, I'm strictly a every few weeks kinda gal.

Meme me up.

So as you may have guessed from the title and what is possibly one of my favourite memes around:

 I AM OFFICIALLY HALFWAY THROUGH CHEMOTHERAPY!! 

If you read that and envisioned me shouting it then you would be correct; I just yelled it at my dog, who is now looking at me with a mix of confusion and pity. Totally worth it. This time in seven weeks (cheeky white blood cell count permitting) I will have received my final dose of chemotherapy and will be patiently waiting for my hair to grow back. There is a little question mark over what happens after chemotherapy (which I will briefly explain to you all next - stay tuned!) but meh to all of that because I hate chemo and I don't care who knows it. Plus I am slightly obsessed with the idea of having a bubble bath, currently I am unable to do that because of my PICC line - first world problems, amirite? So if anyone wants to throw me an impromptu "Halfway through chemo" party then I am totally down, just don't make it a surprise so that I make sure I have one of my wigs on at the time. OK?

Now for a brief explanation of the whole post-chemo plan - previously I was all set to have radiotherapy; this involves a whole load of high-energy waves directed at the specific spot (that Larry so recently kindly vacated) every day for two and a half weeks. Recently, however, I had an appointment with the genetics team as everyone I've met is pretty much shaking their heads and wondering how a 27-year-old with minimal family history got cancer. I wish I could help, but I'm just as confused as them to be honest. At my genetics appointment they explained that I am now being tested for three specific gene mutations; I won't bore you with the technical details but in a nutshell finding these mutations in me could either mean that I'm at a high risk of getting breast cancer again or I'm at a high risk of basically having any soft-tissue cancer in the future (depending on if and which specific mutation they identify). Does that make sense? If not tough, I can't think of an easier explanation. 

What that means in terms of the plan is that if any mutations are found they will offer me a full mastectomy (read total boob lop-off job) in order to completely minimise the breast cancer recurrence risk; I'm putting it out there now that if they offer it to me I will take it. Me and my boobs aren't great friends at the minute and you know what? I'd rather stay alive. Plus I will be looking forward to the completely awesome tattoo I will get where those bad boys used to be, so onwards and upwards I guess. On the flip side, if nothing is found then we will carry on with the radiotherapy as planned, meaning I will and forevermore have very wonkily-sized boobs. I'm getting a tattoo either way though, just try and stop me Mum.

That's pretty much all my cancer updates for now. My hair is still falling out like it's abandoning a sinking ship, chemo still sucks and people are still 100% awesome. Although, on a non-cancer related subject (I know right? There apparently is more to my life than cancer! I don't believe it either) Warren and I have booked most of our honeymoon! We're cruising the Caribbean for a bit (my choice) and then heading to Vegas for the rest (Warren's choice) - if you know Warren then you probably wouldn't have bet on us not going to Vegas to be honest. So basically let's get this wedding over so that I can go on my Honeymoon!*

*Massive joke - I'm also super excited about the wedding too.

Until next time, blog fans!

Love, Meg xx

P.S. Liking my story? Why not follow or subscribe by email below? I promise I won't bombard you with lots of blog posts, I'm strictly a every few weeks kinda gal.

Next stop on the chemo train...

Let's talk about me some more, OK?

Welcome back everyone, it's very nice to see you all again. Apologies for the substantial gap between blog posts, lots of minor things have happened so I decided to save them up and hit you with them in one go. Bam! Let's begin.

First and foremost, chemo still definitely sucks. In fact, following the second dose that I received two weeks ago, I can tell you that the level of suck appears to increase after each subsequent dose. It's not enough that I experienced the same symptoms as before (fatigue, nausea, headaches blah blah blah) apparently my wonderful body decided that it would play a hilarious game of "chemo symptom roulette" for the first week. What this game entails is pretty much me waking up one day and being OK, then waking up the following day and having all the symptoms in one hit. Thanks body. Cue a LOT of me crying and saying "I just want to be OK" (imagine that said in a whiny, childlike voice and it'll be like you were actually there, count yourself lucky that you weren't though); it was messy, it was pathetic, but above all it was fully justified. OK? So now here I sit, slowly getting back to feeling like normal Meg (well let's face it, I'll always be weird but at least I'll feel normal health-wise) and just in time for another chemo dose next week. Come at me, bro.

Also chemo side-note before I move onto a much more fun topic - hot weather and chemo is actually like living death; imagine having a headache, feeling sick and also sweating from every possible pore on your body. I'll leave you with that image to take away, boys and girls. Please enjoy it, that one's on me.

Now we move on to a much more important topic; namely my hair, or lack thereof.

Don't stop reading! There are pictures and everything!

Last time I posted it was to inform you that I was off to the hairdressers to say goodbye to what was left of my hair. That did happen and right now I'm going to do a shameless plug for Buggsy's hairdressers in Hemel Hempstead and the man of the hour - my hairdresser Gavin. This absolute legend of a man opened up his shop early so that I could go and have my head shaved without other people gawping, he even lent me a hat as I forgot to take one (classic Meg) so that I didn't feel exposed and embarrassed getting home. If you need a new hairdresser please go there, tell him Meg sent you - you won't receive a discount, he'll just think I'm an awesome person.

Following the shearing of my head, I then posted a photo to Facebook. If you didn't see it then worry not, here it is in all its glory:

Like my photos in previous posts, I am aware that you are now fully shocked that one person can be so attractive. I know, right? Unfortunately it is a burden that I have to bear, just feel grateful it wasn't given to you. I have to confess that I had possibly way too much fun taking selfies that day, I struggle to take a "serious" selfie so this is the best of about twenty that I took. If there was a selfie school I would definitely enroll myself.

The response on Facebook was incredibly overwhelming, in a good way. Thank you to everyone who commented or liked it; I've said it before but I'll say it again - human beings are awesome things. Following the incredible level of love I received I then felt totally empowered with my new hairdo; phrases like "I got this" and "who needs hair anyway?" swirled around my brain for the next week. I ventured out, I met up with people, I went to see both my two-year-old nieces (one didn't mind it, the other niece took a while to look at/talk to me but we're firm friends again now) and I generally went about my life as normal. As you should right? You can probably sense there is a "but" looming somewhere though...

This "but" (hehe, immature moment) comes in the shape of my appointment last Friday, when I received my free NHS wig (big thank you for that NHS, you rock). I took it home and decided to put it on for a few hours to "get used to it", my intention was to save it and wear it for special occasions - basically anytime I had to wear a posh dress. After those few hours I found I couldn't take it off; I mean, it wasn't stuck to my head in any supernatural/Goosebumps way, I just loved it. So now my new thing is wigs. I have to say sorry though, I tried to be a strong "I've had cancer and I don't care" shaved/bald headed lady, but it wasn't for me; it appears my hair was so much more important to me than I originally thought. Kudos to any strong "I've had cancer and I don't care" shaved/bald headed ladies out there, you are so brave and "you got this!" I'm afraid I won't be joining you just yet. Here's a photo of me wearing the wig (yes it's another terrible selfie):

Now I am addicted to wigs, I have the posh one from the NHS pictured above but I can't really afford to buy those types unfortunately. My new idea is that I am going to buy cheap, synthetic hair wigs in various shades and styles (think Kylie Jenner, if you don't know who that is then you are clearly a much better person than me) then I can pick what wig I would like depending on my mood. If you see me in the future just bear in mind that I know that the wigs are cheap and probably look just that. So just smile and say "I like your hair!" OK? Thanks team! A girl has got to cope with losing her hair somehow, right?

The final photo I will leave you with is me wearing my first purchase, I'm calling it "Sensible Meg":

Well, maybe "Sensible Meg and Toby's butt" is probably more fitting.

Cancer cannot beat me, not when I have wigs and a terrible sense of humour.

Love, Meg xx

P.S. Liking my story? Why not follow or subscribe by email below? I promise I won't bombard you with lots of blog posts, I'm strictly a every few weeks kinda gal.

Hair we go.

Update time!

Hello again everyone! I have a few updates in the life of chemo-Meg to get through, I bet none of you can wait! If chemo-Meg was a superhero I feel like her superpowers would probably be the ability to take epic naps, complain about how sick she feels, and messy cry a lot; if Marvel are interested then I'm definitely open to negotiations on that one. But I digress, let's get started then shall we? This probably needs to be a type of 'update sandwich'; I'll tell you one thing good, then all the bad, and then end with something awesome. All aboard the emotional roller-coaster that is my life right now, are you all strapped in? Let's get on it...

Let's start with the promised one thing good: I just want to let you all know that I am feeling much better, I wholeheartedly thank the chemo fairies (and whoever else that was involved) for that. The first week was hell, the second week was better and by the third week I had almost forgotten that I was a chemotherapy patient. During that last week I even managed to get my butt to work for one shift - I am super proud of myself for that. So that's the good.

Now for the bad, there are a few things to discuss so get yourselves mentally prepared. Take a deep breath. Ready? Here goes, there's three bad updates and I've numbered them so that you know when we're nearly at the final, awesome update:

1. Today I rocked up for my next chemotherapy dose as planned, when I arrived I was informed that they needed to repeat a blood test (my full blood count for all my fellow healthcare workers out there - hello to you!) because my white cell count (the part of your blood that fights off infection for all of my non-healthcare workers out there - hello to you also!) was borderline. Twenty minutes after the blood was taken (which for the NHS is absomalutely amazing) I was told that the result had come back even lower than before which meant that my consultant needed to make a decision; to chemo or not to chemo. Unfortunately he called them back and decided it was a not to chemo situation - this means that I have been pushed back to next week; I have another blood test on Monday and if all is well my next chemo will be Wednesday. Because of this all subsequent chemo doses are also pushed back by a week, so as you can probably imagine I am super thrilled about this (if you aren't great at sarcasm then just know that I am definitely not super thrilled about it). So that's that. If I could contact my white blood cells then I assure you that I would give them a firm talking to until they sorted themselves out. For everyone out there with a cough, cold or sniffle (or anything more serious) please leave me alone for now; it's not that I don't like you (although I can't guarantee that) I just don't want to catch it. Apologies.
2. This update is possibly the most depressing, sorry about that. On Saturday I had a shower (that's not the update, I shower/bathe often I promise) during this shower I found it strange that I had to remove my hair from the plug three times because the water wasn't draining. Since I noticed that it has been a massive free-for-all on my scalp; it turns out that my hair severely dislikes me and has been waiting for an excuse to leave. So here I sit now and I think that if I lose any more hair I will unfortunately become the female Bill Bailey - that's not even a joke, unfortunately. Because of this total lack of loyalty shown by my hair I have booked an appointment with my hairdresser tomorrow to get it cut short. I'm talking full-on boy short; mainly because of the Bill Bailey look, but also because my scalp is hurting constantly (think sunburn-type pain or if you've ever had your hair tied up for way too long discomfort-type pain) and I would like it to stop, please. So wish me luck. Also if you read this and see me in person in the future then please do me a favour and don't mention my lack of hair; losing my hair is incredibly stressful and I would rather just pretend that I never had hair and that I've always looked this way. OK? Thanks.
3. Many of you may have heard that you lose weight during chemotherapy, I also heard this. I just want to tell you now that it is all lies. Absolutely 100% not true. As a result I am now on a diet/exercise plan as I have a wedding that I need to slim down for - THIS IS THE MOST DEPRESSING UPDATE OF ALL. Chemotherapy and a diet? Life is pretty sucky right now. So don't believe the hype everyone, chemotherapy basically sucks. The end.

You will be pleased to know that the bad is now over. Take all the time you need to collect yourselves, I'll still be here don't you worry. Go and have a cup of tea, take a nap, have a vodka and watch a Disney movie - those are my plans anyway.

So now for the awesome; as mentioned at the beginning I went back to work on Friday for the first time post-chemo. I was a little bit nervous about going back but I have to say that I have never in my life been surrounded by so much love, support and care. A big shout-out to my work mummy Elsa (who I'm not sure if she reads this but one day she might) who organised a card and collection for me. I go through my life convinced that I am not really good enough to be noticed, so to read the amount of love people wrote in those cards actually made me feel incredibly special (if I'm allowed to admit that) and also allowed me to have a very happy, messy cry. So thank you to any of my colleagues that are reading this, I genuinely love you right now.

And now we have reached the end of this update. Tomorrow I am off to try on some wigs, an appointment that I am weirdly dreading. Wish me luck!

Until next time, blog fans.

Love, Meg xx

P.S. Liking my story? Why not follow or subscribe by email below? I promise I won't bombard you with lots of blog posts, I'm strictly a every few weeks kinda gal.

Finding Chemo.

What. A. Week.

I've just had a coffee and sugary cereal and now I am jumping on that caffeine/sugar high to write this post; once it wears off I'm pretty sure I'll be plunged back into the fiery pit of chemo side-effects so time is of the essence! This is my first post-chemo update and I promise I'll do my best to not be a martyr, but oh-my-word it has been a fully terrible week. So let's start where I left off, on the eve of my PICC line/chemo extravaganza...

I don't really have all that much to tell you about the PICC line insertion part and to be honest it's one of those experiences that you kind of have to go through yourself (which I genuinely hope you never have to) but for those of you who are staring blankly at that phrase, Macmillan have a brilliant summary for you:

"PICC lines (peripherally inserted central catheters) are used to give someone chemotherapy treatment or other medicines. A PICC line is a long, thin, flexible tube known as a catheter. It’s put into one of the large veins of the arm, above the bend of the elbow. It’s then threaded into the vein until the tip sits in a large vein just above the heart."

So yeah, I now have that beauty in my arm for the next eighteen weeks. It is currently covered with a pair of tights that I expertly cut to make sleeve-like; Warren says it makes me look like The Rock (google 'the rock elbow pads' and you'll see) so I guess every cloud, right? Once a week I have to trundle myself back to Mount Vernon hospital to get the line flushed and dressing changed, but other than that I can't say the PICC line has had much impact on my day-to-day life. Well, except for the fact that I have to wear an adult equivalent of a swimming armband over it when I want to wash - something for which I am grateful that only Warren has witnessed. Always wear your armbands when having a shower, kids.

Now onto the main event: the wonder that is chemotherapy.  At 09.30am last Wednesday Warren and I rocked up to Mount Vernon for my first dose. Joy. My chemotherapy medication is a mix of four different types (sometimes one is just not enough, you know?) and is collectively called FEC-T. This is pronounced 'feck tea' which is quite fitting as, due to the insane amount of nausea it caused, it is actually how I feel most evenings. The fact that it is four medications meant that it took a long old time to be given, in total I had two large syringes and two separate bags of medication all given veeery sloowwwly. On top of that I also opted to try their 'cold cap'; because there's some thought out there that if you cool the hair follicles during the treatment then you are less likely to go bald - to be honest I'll give anything a go that promises me I might keep my hair. And I'm talking anything. This had to be put on thirty minutes before treatment and then left on for an hour and a half afterwards. In total we were there for five and a half hours - a whole five and a half hours of my life that I'll never get back, amirite? So it was long, it was cold, and it was extremely boring. One plus is that they gave me coffee and sandwiches for free, nothing is bad when there's free food around. Also, big kudos to Warren for keeping me company throughout the whole process; he wasn't entitled to free sandwiches (that's clearly a cancer perk right there) but he did get free coffee.

Going back to the cold cap, Warren very nicely took a photo of me wearing that beaut for you all to see. If you ever thought I was in any way attractive before then please prepare yourself for something truly sensational - ladies and gents, I give you the cold cap:

I know, I know, but I promise you that is me. You're probably thinking that no one could ever look that attractive whilst receiving chemotherapy but I believe I have achieved just that. I'm pretty proud of myself I can tell you. As a side note though, that thing is bloody cold; I'm talking -3 degrees cold. So cold, in fact, that it affected my ability to concentrate until my head went spectacularly numb, this chemotherapy thing is super fun guys!

So chemotherapy finished and we went home, armed with two types of anti-sickness tablets, steroid tablets and injections I have to give myself to boost my immune system - the fun never ends! Very naive and non-experienced me felt absolutely fine that day and even went as far as to congratulate myself that I had this chemotherapy thing in the bag. I was so very wrong. When I look back now I could actually laugh at my naivety, I had no clue what I was getting into and how reliant on those tablets I would be. The day after treatment the chemotherapy fairies visited and gave me lovely gifts which included (but were not limited to): I-can't-get-off-the-sofa-to-pee fatigue, oh-my-gosh-I-can't-even-think-about-a-kitchen nausea, my-problems-are-the-worst-contest-winning tearful episodes, and my-brain-is-waking-me-up-at-night-to-tell-me-I-have-a-headache headaches. Put those all together and you have a delightful recipe for the worst week of your life - just trust me on that one, OK?

Now I just want to take a break from wallowing in self-pity to say a few thank yous. Basically thank you to everyone that sent me support after my last "woe is me" blog post; you all got me out of my slump and I love you all for that, keep being awesome OK? The second is another big thank you for each and every one of you who has sent me lovely, supportive messages this week. Human beings are amazing, caring things and I cannot thank you all enough. I will never ever be fed up of receiving messages from you all, so thanks team. If you ever need me then I hope I can repay the favour back to you, just try not to make it anytime in this eighteen weeks, alright? I'm a bit busy making a big deal out of my own issues at the minute.

This is a pretty long update, I'm very sorry about that and I am coming to an end soon; I kind of have to end soon anyway, the nausea monster is looming and he wants to play our favourite game of 'how sick do you have to feel before you live in the toilet'. It's a brilliant game, I thoroughly recommend it to all. From speaking to my mum the other day she likened my symptoms to that of particularly nasty morning sickness; except my baby is chemo obviously (not a very common choice of name for a baby I have to admit). To all you ladies who went/are going through that: I salute you. You got this, morning sickness experiencing pregnant women. If a whiny person like me can get through it then so can you! Roll on the next two weeks until I have to cycle through it all again, I cannot wait!

So now I will say goodbye; me and my aforementioned monster are off to nap.
He's also a brilliant big spoon.

Love, Meg xx

P.S. Liking my story? Why not follow or subscribe by email below? I promise I won't bombard you with lots of blog posts, I'm strictly a every few weeks kinda gal.

Let's talk about eggs (a bit more), baby... Oh and feelings.

Surprise blog post!

Now, I am fully aware that in my last post I told you all that you would next hear from me after my first chemotherapy treatment on Wednesday. But fear not blog team - I haven't gone mad or got addicted to posting (just yet), there is a point to this extra edition I promise. This post is a two part-er: the first part is an important addition that I forgot to mention last time, the second part is me using you all as my counselling method. Apologies in advance about that, just a warning that there may be a discussion around 'feelings'. Yuck. I won't be upset if you just read the first part, OK?

Part One

Following the last post my very supportive and lovely fiance, Warren, informed me that I had not mentioned his side of the whole egg harvesting day. He would like you all to know about his experience of being the other half of our awesome embryo-creating duo. So here goes. Don't worry though, I'm not going to go into a lot of detail - unless you want me to? In that case please message me, you total weirdo.

So after I had returned from my brilliant nap in theatre, Warren was then taken off to what the staff actually called the "little boys' room". I'm not making it up, they actually referred to it as that. Weird right? He was then given a pot and told to "do his thang" (they didn't say that, although I really wish they had). He did just that, gave them the pot back and now here we are.

Right now, I can imagine you all thinking that you really wish you could see what the "little boys' room" looked like. Am I right? Well, lucky for you people, Warren actually took it upon himself to take a photo to show you all. Prepare yourselves for something truly epic:

Yes! That is it! Please make sure you have fully admired the pad on the chair (just in case of spillage) and the who-knows-how-old magazines. Unfortunately I can't post the photo of the TV that he sent me as some options on it were a bit rudey and graphic, but please believe me that they cater for everyone - does Eastenders turn you on? Or maybe Neighbours? Well that's good because they've given you BBC iPlayer and Demand5 (along with a vast array of X-rated content I might add), what a truly weird world. Warren, when you read this, I hope you think that I did your experience justice; I tried to be super serious but it's hard when you send me photos like that!

So that concludes part one and both our experiences of the fertility clinic; I hope that all the men out there never have to sit in a glorified cupboard and produce a sample, but if you have to then I hope that you also have the joy of BBC iPlayer. It's the least I can do.

Part Two

Switch off now if you don't like feelings! You have been warned!

This evening I felt compelled to write a blog post as a way of getting my head straight; it feels like I'm standing on a ledge right now and when I step off I'll never be able to go back. That sounds overly dramatic and not like me at all, but it's how I'm feeling this evening. By starting chemotherapy (not that I have a choice) I feel like I am saying goodbye to many things; there's the replaceable things like my hair and my social life of course, but then there's also the possibility of losing irreplaceable things like my fertility which is very important to me. Long term there's also the fact that I'm fully aware that having cancer at the age of 27 means that there's the possibility it could come back at any point in my life and I have to go through all this again. Which at the moment is something I can't even think about.

So there you have it, that is my mood this evening. I have to say that when I write it all down I'm aware that it makes me sound incredibly whiny and needy, so I'm sorry about that. Reading it back has also made me decide to stop feeling sorry for myself so there will be no more discussions of feelings. It also helps that I'm watching The Little Mermaid as I write this; I've never watched that movie and felt sad, I highly recommend it as a pick me up.

Tomorrow is my PICC line insertion day and then Wednesday is chemotherapy day; I don't want to go into too much detail about those here as a) I don't really want to think about them right now and b) if I tell you now then I won't have anything to write about later, will I? So tune in next time for a summary of those epic appointments. I promise I will have cheered up by then; I bloody hope so anyway, if not I will be having a Disney movie marathon and a stern talk with myself.

Love Meg xx

P.S. Liking my story? Why not follow or subscribe by email below? I promise I won't bombard you with lots of blog posts, I'm strictly a every few weeks kinda gal.

Let's talk about eggs, baby...

Welcome back!

Now I know you've all been anxiously checking my blog to see if I have posted another thrilling update on the medical journal that is my life - well congratulations! Today is that day! Make yourselves comfy (and maybe pour yourselves a drink) because you're in for a pretty long tale...

Last time I posted I was midway through my injections and scans, which feels like a hundred years ago now, this post is to tell you all that we have now gone through the whole fertility journey and out the other side. Phew! It has been an extremely long and emotional ride, one which I will try to summarise for you on a day-by-day basis, here goes:

Monday
This was the big, long-awaited 'egg collection' day. At 8.45am we rocked up to the fertility clinic in St Paul's (London, if anyone reading this isn't from the UK - in which case a big hello to you wherever you are, I hope the weather's lovely). Now, I really don't want to tell you in detail how eggs are harvested; it is a particularly 'intimate' procedure and I don't really want you to have to picture it. You're welcome. If you desperately want to know then here's a copy and pasted version from the 'Egg Donor Information Project' website (https://web.stanford.edu/class/siw198q/websites/eggdonor/procedures.html):

"Eggs are retrieved from the donor through transvaginal ultrasound aspiration, a surgical procedure performed under conscious sedation. (See figure below). Using a tube attached to an ultrasound probe, a physician guides a suctioning needle into each ovary and removes mature oocytes from the follicles."

There you go, I couldn't have put it better myself. From my perspective all I know is that I went to the operating theatre, had a truly awesome nap and when I woke up I was missing some eggs. Eight eggs to be exact. I don't know if that is a good number and to be honest I don't care if it wasn't, that was just how many they harvested. Then we went home. 
And that concludes Monday's adventure.

Tuesday
On this day I received a phone-call to tell me how the fertilisation of my eggs was coming along. I'm warning you now, this was a bad day.
Apparently my eggs had already started to show cells dividing; I'm sure that you think, as I also thought - "Well that's great news, right?" Wrong. It was then explained to me that this doesn't normally happen until day 2, if it happens on day 1 then often it means that they are abnormal or unlikely to get to the stage where they are able to be frozen. So in summary, I potentially would have zero embryos in their giant freezer. Needless to say, many tears were shed that day. The clinic said they would 'sit' on my embryos for a few days before discarding them, just in case. That's nice of them, isn't it?

Thursday
Another phone-call today, for someone who hates talking on the phone this week has been particularly taxing! During this particular call I was informed that four of my eight embryos actually appeared to be doing what they were meant to (finally!) and two of them looked very likely to be able to be frozen on day 5. Now I know that doesn't sound like many but as I was expecting to be told that they'd all have to be disposed of this was good news. No tears were shed this day, which was pretty good as the crying stuff was starting to make me a bit dehydrated if I'm honest.

Today 
Apologies for the long story, it's coming to an end I promise! Today I received a final phone-call letting me know that out of the four promising-ish embryos, they were able to freeze two. I feel like I should be highly disappointed about this outcome but weirdly I feel super relieved that it's over and I have anything in the freezer at all. That's enough embryos for one transfer cycle, so for now that's enough. I may not need them at all (which would be amazing) but they are there just in case. If it's meant to be it will happen, right?

There ends my fertility clinic journey (hopefully forever, but who knows?) next step - chemotherapy. It just keeps getting better and better! My first dose is scheduled for the 19th April, so a week on Wednesday. Again, instead of being worried I've surprised myself by just being relieved that's it's starting. The quicker it starts then the quicker it ends and I for one cannot wait to see what I look like with a shiny, bald head. That's a joke, I'm currently having daily pep talks with my hair and begging it not to leave me!

So in summary, I would make a terrible chicken. In fact, I probably would be the kind of chicken that graces your dinner table rather than sits there laying eggs. Lucky old me!

Tune in next time for the not depressing at all update about chemotherapy. I promise to be cheerful if you promise to read it. Deal?

Love, Meg xx

P.S. Liking my story? Why not follow or subscribe by email below? I promise I won't bombard you with lots of blog posts, I'm strictly a every few weeks kinda gal.