All about the eggs.

So, it's been a while...

Hello again blog readers! Firstly I would like to apologise for not posting for a little while; I am loving this whole blog thing but unfortunately I didn't have any particularly juicy updates for you (I will explain why a little bit later). I wasn't sure people wanted to hear about my general day, which would have included highlights such as "Today I treated myself to a bath instead of a shower - crazy times!" and "The train to work was slightly quieter today meaning I got a seat - I am winning!". So I thought I'd save you from reading delightful tidbits like those. This time I actually have news, so read on blog fans!

Now before I update you on the truly fascinating world of cancer treatment I need to tell you about something bloody fantastic that happened on Friday - my amazing sister gave birth to a little boy! I now have a nephew! Introducing baby Rory:

There he is, isn't he cute? There I am too, but let's just ignore my pale and pasty face shall we? I'm posting this because a) I'm super excited and proud of my sister and her husband and b) he is now my reminder that, despite cancer's best efforts, life still goes on. There's no point having my life on pause because it means that I miss out on amazing things like this. So yeah, I'm a pretty proud Auntie right now.

OK so back to the whole cancer thing. Before I go on I just want to put a little disclaimer: if you are a person who is anyway offended/disgusted by anyone discussing a woman's period then I recommend that you skip the next paragraph as that is what I will be talking about. You will know that the person I am describing is you if you found yourself wincing when you read the word "period". Do yourself a favour, skip the next bit.

There is a reason I'm talking about my monthly "gift" (I'm not just a weirdo who drops it into conversation, OK?) - when I last posted I was waiting to start my pre-chemo fertility treatment and egg harvesting; waiting is the important word here, I had all the medication and had to start this on the second day of my period. Apparently my body heard this and thought "we've already given her the stress of cancer, now let's be extra-special jerks and make her wait two extra weeks for her period". That happened, thanks uterus. Fast forward through major stresses (including a freak out at work; huge thank you to my fellow Midwives for calming me down that day and I'm very very sorry!) and it has finally come. If 'my period was late but now it's here' parties aren't a thing then they bloody well should be.

If you skipped that paragraph then a big welcome back to the stress that is my life. So now here I am, day six of my daily injections -lucky me, right? Today I had a scan which found that things are progressing nicely and as to be expected (I'm sure nobody wants the ins and outs of what exactly is happening with my ovaries, if you do then feel free to message me and I will give you a blow-by-blow account of fertility treatment) So this evening I started a second injection that goes with the first. Yay! Before all this I often hoped I would be injecting myself twice daily; now all my wishes have come true! Next comes a scan every other day until they determine that my eggs are ready to be "harvested"; tune in for that installment, it will be thrilling! I have to give a big shout-out to anyone who has ever gone through all this fertility treatment without complaining publicly; kudos to every one of you ladies, you are awesome and should be mighty proud of yourselves. For myself, I just can't wait for it to be over; although over means that chemo begins so maybe I'll just stay in fertility land forever? There's babies and stuff, it's pretty nice here.

Tah dah! That's my life so far. I hoped you enjoyed reading my update and would like to continue on my journey with me. I would really appreciate it if you did; it's nice to know there's people out there reading my terrible attempts at humour and (hopefully) chuckling to themselves a little bit. That's enough for me!

Also, I can't end this update without naming a very lovely man called Keith who works at Mount Vernon. This genuine beaut of a man stepped up and re-arranged my chemo dates for me (I had to push them back due to the whole period debacle) without a single complaint. If you ever need chemo, and from the bottom of my soul I wish that none of you ever do, then I hope he is the man you deal with. I think I love him a little bit. Thanks awesome Keith from Mount Vernon.

So, most important thing to remember from this update is this: fun Auntie Meg has a new nephew! Oh and there was that stuff about fertility, but just look at his face one more time - isn't he lovely?

Peace out blog fans.

Love, Meg xx

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The Next Cancer Chapter

Larry has gone but he's not quite finished yet...

Hello again! Thought I'd post a little update as today I had an appointment with the oncology team; in case you are staring blankly at the word "oncology" - these are the people that deal with the treatment of cancer, meaning that they are the team that I discuss my upcoming chemo/radiotherapy/medication with. No surprise to hear that it is all going ahead as we were previously told - so stay tuned folks, still to come we have:

1. The story of the fertility clinic - including hormone injections and egg harvesting.

2. The chronicle of a cancer patient having a PICC line inserted - don't know what this is? Just enjoy the fact that you don't know and accept that if you see me after this event then I will fully enjoy showing it to you. My little friend for the next four and a half months.

3. The drama of chemotherapy at Mount Vernon - this place sounds like it should be some kind of theme park, right? Unfortunately there are no roller coasters here, just a whole load of people receiving cancer treatment.

4. The wonder of the wig - if I go bald expect a vast array of wigs (if I can afford them), I'm totally looking forward to buying the afro one I have imagined. Look out world!

5. The recital of radiotherapy - I have nothing to say about this one. It is what it is for three and a half weeks.

6. The chronicle of ten years of daily medication - no I haven't made a typo. Ten years! I barely plan the next few weeks of my life, let alone the next ten years; but now I know it will involve medication. Yay me! Don't worry though, I won't be blogging every day for ten years - I don't expect anyone to stay with me for daily installments of "I took my tablets today".

So that's still to come. I bet you all can't wait - I know I can't!

In the meantime I want to tell you that on Monday I went back to work. And I hated it. Mainly because my boss (out of respect for my confidentiality, which I completely understand) didn't tell anyone that I was off due to having cancer. This in turn meant that the lovely, unknowing people that I work with had absolutely no idea; so when I mentioned things like my upcoming chemo I wasn't expecting to see so many shocked faces. Having to explain that you have cancer a lot of times to a lot of people in one day is truly exhausting. So yay to normal life, boo to discussing cancer at least ten times a shift. I'm back in again tomorrow with different colleagues so I've got to do it all over again. Wish me luck. Also, side note, if anyone is reading this who is rich, I'm more than happy for you to sponsor me so that I don't have to return to work until this is all over - by over I mean the end of radiotherapy, I don't expect ten years worth of sponsoring. Although if you're offering, I'm not one to turn that down.

Finally, I can't end this without saying a big hello to anyone who is reading this because I put it on Facebook or due to my very talented brother's shout-out on his You Tube channel. If you are also one of those amazing people who liked or commented on my original Facebook post last week then a HUGE thank you to you. I was terrified about announcing I had cancer and appearing super "needy"; everyone who liked/commented/messaged is a superstar and I am incredibly grateful. Even if you didn't do that, even if you simply read it and thought "that's pretty good that she's doing that" then you too qualify as a superstar. So thank you.

Stay tuned for the next installment!

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 now and then kinda gal.

The moment we've all been waiting for.

Good news!

Today I had my follow up appointment at the clinic and received the news we've all been waiting for (*spoiler alert* it's bloody awesome news):

LARRY HAS WELL AND TRULY SODDED OFF! ACTUALLY WELL. AND. TRULY.

I'm writing that in capitals because I would really love to shout it, in fact I might do just that. Goodbye Larry! Ciao! Adiós! Arrivederci! Auf wiedersehen! Sayonara! Aloha (the goodbye version of aloha obviously) - and don't come back! Big thanks to Google translate for those.

Plus, remember those pesky lymph nodes? I personally remember as thanks to those bad boys I am rocking two beautiful scars instead of one. Well, it appears that they disliked Larry too and declined his invite to the cancer party. That's right! No cancer in my lymph nodes, which means at this exact moment in time (and hopefully forevermore) I am cancer free.

Now, before you all rush round my house and throw me a big surprise party (which you're totally welcome to do - just not tonight, I'm busy tonight) there is a little bit extra to inform you all; they have decided that because I am a 27 year old, (reasonably) healthy woman with minimal family history it is still recommended that I have chemotherapy and radiotherapy. Which means I need to go down the whole fertility clinic, egg harvesting thing first too. So we're not out of the woods yet team, I'm still playing (and winning) cancer treatment bingo, and I for one cannot wait for my prize - in fact, if it's that I come out the other end with all my hair still on my head then that is enough for me! Not my leg hair though, I could do without shaving for a while.

In summary - lots of yay, some meh. As Bon Jovi very eloquently put it:

"Hey, man, I'm alive. I'm takin' each day and night at a time...

...I'm feeling like a Monday but someday I'll be Saturday night."

I hope you all are feeling the Saturday night vibes though, hopefully I'll be joining you soon.

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.

So long Larry...

I'm back!

Hey all, just a little one today to let you all know that I am now Larry-free. I'm very tired and sore so not sure this post will be all that entertaining (sorry about that) but I just wanted to update you all. I came home Tuesday morning and have been resting and inhaling pain relief since then, but today seems to be a much better day - so fingers crossed!

Also *unflattering photo alert* - here's the evolution of my hospital journey. Ready? Here it is:

To summarise, from top left is my admission and then just changed into my gown. From bottom left is me just out of surgery (I know right? Who takes a selfie just out of surgery? Apparently doped up me does!) and then the first night post op. I promise you I look a lot better than that now. Well, a lot is somewhat stretching it - I look a little better.

Anyway I've decided that I'm going to take each positive as it comes. Here's my list so far:

1. Larry has gone. This is the most important one!

2. Yesterday I successfully washed my hair - it took about 10 hours and 100 swear words but hey, I did it.

3. I'm having to wear my sports bra to support my holey boob so in my head that means that every time I walk anywhere around the house I'm technically exercising. Right? Right.

4. I'm allowed to wear my slobby clothes all day and nobody is allowed to say anything about it.

So yeah, that's my list so far. I'm sure I'll be adding to it as the days go on but it's enough for now. A huge thank you for all your support, me and my sore boob thank you enormously. Plus a big shout-out to possibly the world's best fiance Warren, who has become my personal slave - I've not even heard so much as a tut when I ask him to do a task for me. I wonder how long I'll get away with that for? 2 years? I hope so!

Next for me is my appointment on Wednesday when I will find out whether or not Larry managed to party with my lymph nodes (and therefore possibly other places in my body). Let's hope not, although maybe he did because he was a massive prick, wasn't he? I'm glad he's gone. Tosser.

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.

Just a quickie (pahahaha quickie!)

And it's goodbye from him...

I couldn't let this evening pass without allowing Larry to say a final farewell to you all; tomorrow is operation day and therefore the day that we will go our separate ways. Larry - or Lazza, arsehole, Lumpy McBoob, he has been dubbed many names along the way - and I have gone through an emotional roller-coaster these past forty three days (I say we - I'm pretty sure a cancerous lump doesn't have any emotions but go with it, OK?) but I have to say I'm pretty happy that he's leaving.

Tomorrow I am being injected with radioactive dye in the morning (so they can scan me and establish which lymph nodes they need to remove and test for cancer) then the big operation is in the afternoon, followed by an overnight stay and finally I'll be home and Larry free! Although a small part of me will miss our (very much one-sided) chats, I guess I'll just have to name a body part and talk to that instead - how does Norman the knee sound?

So, I guess I'll see you all on the other side! Wish me luck!

Love, Meg and (for the final time) Larry xx

P.S. I totally have shaved my legs and painted my toenails for this operation. Who does that? I just hope someone in the operating theatre thinks to themselves "Wow, her toenails are awesome and her legs are so smooth!" Then at least it wasn't all for nothing...

P.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.

Countdown to Larry's eviction...

Update time!

Hey everyone! Today I am excited to inform you that I actually have an update for you all, rather than my previous posts where I appear to be rating specific hospital tests (if you've missed that then I would give ultrasound/biopsy/mammogram day 8/10, blood test day 10/10 and MRI day 6/10. Not bad,eh?) But no! Today is an update day! Woop!

But first you are going to have to bear with me as some thank yous are in order, obviously on top of the general thank yous to everyone that has reached out to me, sent me kind words, prayed for me - those kind of go without saying as I appreciate every single one of you. The specific huge thank yous I need to give today go to two groups of people: first (and I'm totally going to name drop you all because you deserve it) Alex, Sayers, Whits, Gav, Iyad, Jack, Joe, Kev, Loz, Lee, Mart, Paul, Pete, Ryan, Soud, Sounir and Vod - who all chipped in to pay for me and Warren to stay at a mighty posh hotel/spa/golf place on a date of our choosing. Thank you! You are all so very lovely! The second group of people are (again, totally naming you all) Lynzy, Jodee, Nina, Amy, Kate and Faye - this group gave me the most thoughtful gift I think I have ever received. You ladies are beyond awesome, there isn't a word to express how much it meant to me. See the picture below:

Yup, I know! Told you it was amazing!

Ok so that's the thank yous done, now for the big update: LARRY IS IN FACT AN ACTUAL LARRY LONER! He has failed to make any extra lumpy friends to play with - I mean it's not a massive shock as we all know he's an arsehole - and that means I only have to have lump removal surgery; goodbye any thoughts of one-boob-Meg, hello normal Meg! Although one not-so-great update is that they are pretty sure I'm having chemotherapy/radiotherapy (basically I'm totally winning cancer treatment bingo) as I am 27 with grade 3 - a.k.a. bloody speedy growing - cancer, so I get the impression they are throwing everything at me to make sure Larry has well and truly sodded off. Bring it on! I've always wondered what I'd look like bald... Guess now I'll know. Bald but alive - I'll take that.

Just waiting for a little visit to the fertility clinic to have my eggs harvested (awesome, right?) and genetic testing to work out if I have a cancer gene; like I said, I'm totally winning cancer treatment bingo.

So bring on Monday - the big radioactive dye injecting, general anaesthetic lump removing bitch of a day. Yup, I said bitch. Deal with it. Wish me luck!

Peace out, blog fans!

Love, Meg and (soon to be evicted) Larry 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.

M.R.I am awesome.

Toothpaste day!

Thought I'd post an update for those of you that are still with me - if you are then thank you very muchly - today was the dreaded MRI day. I say dreaded because I see myself as one of those people with mild claustrophobia.

Well that's not strictly true, I'm going to tell you something that until now I haven't mentioned to many people; my fear isn't actually small spaces. Oh no team, my fear is particularly embarrassing. Prepare yourselves for this.

My fear is that I am stuck somewhere, like an MRI machine, when a terrible event occurs and everyone except me dies or disappears - leaving me stuck wherever I am and then I slowly succumb and die. Yup, I know, it's random but true and one of the many reasons why I was terrible at hide and seek as a child (you know, in case I got stuck in that wardrobe forever), makes sense right? Wrong. I am aware this may be one of the most unlikely events to ever happen but I cannot shut that little voice up in my head whenever I'm in an enclosed space; thanks for that, brain.

In view of this, I was particularly nervous when I arrived at Watford General this morning, this was made even worse by the two hours I then waited to be seen (due to two sick small children needing urgent MRIs - I hold no anger at the staff but it really didn't help). Then all gowned up with a cannula in place, for the MRI contrast agent they were going to pump into my veins, I was ready to go.

Side note - I honestly thought that I would be magnetic for a while and had visions of being able to control many metallic items nearby, pretty much like Magneto; sadly this is not what happens, all that did actually happen was that I felt sick for a little while. Joy.

The actual MRI was pretty OK, although I felt like I cheated a little bit as - completely unknown to me - when they do a breast/chest MRI you actually lie on your front and put your face in a ring (if you've ever had a massage it's pretty much the same thing) then they push you into the MRI head first. This meant that I couldn't actually see the tiny tube I was stuck in for the next 20-30 minutes, which was actually awesome. The only thing that wasn't great was THE NOISE. I would have loved a heads up that one of the noises an MRI machine makes sounds like it is actually alarming, like a really loud booming alarm. Apparently this is normal and not, like I thought the first time I heard it, an alarm that means the machine is malfunctioning and your death is pretty imminent. If you ever go for an MRI please remember that one thing - that booming, earth-shattering alarm noise is normal. You're welcome, future MRI-ers.

So yeah, that was that. My very specific, previously mentioned fear was kept at bay by me deciding that if the machine was making noise it meant somebody in the other room was pressing a button; this meant at least one person was still alive. If you have anything to do with MRIs and you know that there isn't a button that needs to be held down for it to work, please don't tell me. It's the only thing that stopped me pushing the panic button they very nicely placed in my hand. Proud of myself doesn't even cover it.

Next Wednesday is the big results day, wish me luck! It's basically when they will tell me whether we're going for lump removal surgery or the whole one-boob-Meg mastectomy. What a day to look forward to, eh? Also, if I do have a mastectomy and you actually call me one-boob-Meg I warn you now that I will definitely punch you, hard. And you will deserve it.

Peace out, blog fans.

Love, Meg and Larry 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.