My name is Emma Jane Jones and I was once a lush.
By ‘lush’, I am do not mean somebody who is morally loose, what I mean is a female who likes her drink. To be clear.
Of course, my enjoyment came only at the point when I was legally allowed to do so, and it was from then on that I frequently indulged in an alcoholic beverage or five (11). It was not something that was an uncontrollable problem, but drinking was something that featured prominently in my life and my friendships. A drink after work, a drink at home, a drink with dinner, a drink in the park, just a drink here and there. The only time a drink did not really feature was at the cinema before a screening and even then, I would occasionally bend on that rule. It would be fair to say that I drank too much. Such was my concern when I was diagnosed about alcohol and my love for it, that it was one of the first things I asked my doctors. Was I allowed to drink? They answered in moderation. I decided that abstinence was best and there it was, no alcohol for me, indefinitely. Indefinitely is a long time.
Pre-myeloma, when things were normal, my last drink was on the 12 August, 17 weeks ago. I was in considerable pain, but I drank through it. If memory serves, I had four cans of Kronenberg followed by five pints of an unknown cider and lager. It may have been more, it may have been less. I was with Middlesborough in Hyde Park watching Blur and New Order and the end result, before the tears of pain, looked something like this:
Five days later I had cancer.