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Now I Run

The urge of shitting on about how well we have all done at the end of the year is so unfathomably real. This being said I've done better than the lot of you so everyone can shut the hell up. It's a joke! I am only kidding,  please could everyone relax and take a seat... whilst I tell you how amazing I am. Sorry. Now shut up and listen. First thought, I feel like usually, I can get away with writing like this (rudely) on this blog because normally when writing, I was grumping on about being sick and it acquired copious amounts of sympathy, belly rubs and TLC from my more forgiving readers. Now the story is very different and I am so thankful and so grateful, now that ladies and gentleman, is something that I find very difficult to express by trying to write it down with a few silly words. This day last year I was in Paris sobbing at the prospect of coming home and being in isolation for six months, potentially more. I had the treatment and ended up in intensive care for a
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THE ULTIMATE RANT

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I am very aware that when writing this blog I try take the negative things and make a hoo ha joke stream about them. I wrote the following whist in hospital when I was really sad and angry. I was literally clawing at the door wanting to come out and go home. There's just sometimes so many things that (like anyone who walks the earth) make me sad and annoyed that is enhanced when you're in a confined space. Hmmm what to say what to say been stuck in the same room since the 4th of May; going crazy beginning to despise everyones  Instagram boomerangs. Feeling jealous. Lost two titwit best friends now due to, well I don't know having cancer love I really love being shunned for being sick, feels great. How are you doing are you all feeling fine because I'm not I'm raging. I'm sick of needles being stabbed into me every morning, I'm sick of panicking about my health. I'm absolutely exhausted after getting a transplant someone give me a lucozade tablet. Ha
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Birthday in Hospital

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This week has been somewhat of a fully body dip into hell. I'm kidding really, it wasn't too bad however I'm wondering if I have adapted to p a i n. It began with cockiness; before going in for my transplant I was severely warned that my mouth, throat all the way down to my oesophagus would "break down." I was warned that then it would be impossible to eat, drink maybe even swallow. I didn't take this at all seriously, yeah yeah that ain't gonna happen to me. Well, it most certainly has happened, true life story, this is real life. It began with a slow burn in the back of my throat, every time a cookie entered said area; a sharp hot pain took place, like an intruding candle stroking my tonsils. Then, the walls of my mouth enlarged, I looked like I had halved a peach and stuck it in each side of my face. Then came the blisters covering my tongue, tonsils, gums...mmm - sexy! One evening I started to loose my ability to speak, answer anyones o
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Saved By My Sister

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Firstly, today is a day of many many blessings. I'm sitting in my hospital room waiting for my beautiful baby sisters fresh and lovely stem cells to be transplanted into my body. Bit of a weird one, just sitting about getting a transplant whilst demolishing a variety pack of crisps In preparation for this day, if you haven't read so far! I've had about three months of slogging it out in isolation with chemo - which hasn't been all that bad..but I've began to question the integrity of presenters on programmes such as "A Place in the Sun: Winter Sun," so I think it's about time I lay off the TV. I came to Glasgow at the beginning of May and began two days of chemo and four days of "Total Body Irradation" (which I've yet to google). I finished this yesterday and they let me ring a "finishing bell" - it's the little things people as I jollied out they all make jokes about how once they had seen a bum they have seen every
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Embarrassing Inside Scoop on Radiotherapy Spaceship

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So today, not much drama to tell. Sadly because I do love to write up a little dramatic concoction once and a while. Half way through my radiation treatment, made similar mistake as day before. Told to wear underwear and vest before treatment. Today forgot to wear underwear and vest again! (I think it's weird people who wear underwear with jammies? Yeah that's right! You're weird!) The radiation room is massive! Dressing room in one corner and the bed I must lie on directly in other corner. So stripped down again, usually there is only two radiographers in the room so wasn't that fussed about fully exposed run to the bed. However, five junior doctors were introduced to the room before I had time to make the run, leaving me with seven people in the room in which to make 6 meter sprint to the bed fully nude. No one else gave off awkward vibes, just myself as I revealed myself from behind the screen and apologised for "hanging all out" whilst trying to cover
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Fancy a bit of Total Body Irradation?

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  I'm almost certain that most people under the sun do not idealise the idea of being radiated by a machine. Are you with me? Remember when we thought the world was going to end because some dodgy scientist was doing a Big Bang experiment that was possibly going to set the world alight? Did I made this up? I'm sure this what happened? I remember being on the school bus and everyone counting down until the moment for said blast. Little did they know the night before I ran through to my mum and dads bedroom in tears concerned about this scientist and his motives. I don't think this has much to do with radiation or today's topic, but I'll get there bear with. We live near a nuclear power station and my dad used to tell me and my friends it is a marshmallow factory owned by Cliff Richard. Anyway, in my younger days worries used to hold me together; lurching in fear just waiting for a nuclear wipe-out. Or even just a small leak from this power station, rearing its
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Stream of Consciousness

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Saturday 6th May (Last day of Chemo) 23:39 Oh my goodness- I'm mortified! Three days into living in Glasgow and I think I'm suffering from what can only be called as homesick. I miss the comforts of the Scottish Borders! Not feeling much side effects from this intense chemo which is pretty good so far, just feeling seriously tired but can't sleep because of imense amounts of fluids being pumped into body.  Listening to a podcast called "My dad wrote a porno" (again) I first listened to this when I was living in Paris, I remember having to rip the earphone out my ear because I was on my own on the train crippled over laughing, crying and concerned about my bladder control. Listen to this it's hilarious and you will cringe inside out. Things I've done today to be productive Applied for University to study French and Spanish to go after my newly sought after dream of being a Forensic Linguist (after watching a whole days worth of "JonB
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