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

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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.

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.