Patent

Wanted – Somebody Who Is Good With Their Hands

Ever wondered why you never see a person walking with a walking stick and an umbrella? Even seen somebody walking with a walking stick getting absolutely drenched in the rain and thought, that’s sad, it’s unfortunate they do not have an umbrella? Or have you ever seen somebody with or without a stick, struggle to hold their umbrella for a period of time and pointed them out to your companion, as a pathetic weakling who does not have the strength to hold an umbrella upright?

Rain brings a multitude of dilemmas for the crippled. Going outside can be like Sophie’s Choice. City living really can be traumatic. Something needs to be done to protect the needy from excessive moisture.

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The time thus, is a time for action. Action and innovation.

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Have you ever wanted to help the disableds and did not know what you could do? Do you always feel like you could be more charitable? Are you handy with some tools? Do you have an overwhelming need to show off your skills? Can you weld? Can you smell titanium?

If you have said ‘yes’ to one or more of the questions above, then maybe two can become one, to create something rather special. Not a baby you fool. Despite having a wealth of creative imagination, I have little skill, it pains me to say in manufacture, crafts and neatness. I am seeking somebody to execute my creation of the walking stick/umbrella combo. The Walking Stick/Umbrella Combo (working title only). The device appears to be a standard walking stick, but the handle either stores an umbrella or holds a weightless umbrella attachment, allowing the unfortunate to protect themselves from the rain, without having to sacrifice their walking support or changing the position of their hand. It’s ingenious. I know, you don’t have to tell me.

Artist’s impression on graph paper

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So, if you think you can assist and we can make millions, do seek out contact.

If like me, you have no talent in this area, or simply, if you have no desire to take time out of your physically enabled life, then that is fine. There is no issue. No issue at all. You cannot help me. That’s fine. Just fine. I don’t care.

Emma Jane Jones
Designer

P.S. If you are feeling thankful right now that you can go out in the rain and hold an umbrella, and this sorry for those who cannot, but you cannot help my entrepreneurial ambitions, maybe just help out some cancer patients or something. Paul tells me he is going for a jog of some sort, in the east, it’s not quite welding metal, but it’s something. Here’s the link https://www.justgiving.com/PaulTompsett/
If you cannot shower my scheme with money, shower Macmillan via him.

Share and Care

The land post autograft transplant, when one went into it with a paraprotein level of 20, is a strange, uncomfortable and rather traumatic one. I doubt that unless you have gone through it yourself, you are never going to really understand what it is like. I know, beyond any shadow of a doubt, that unless you are me, which is scientifically impossible, you would truly know what this period is like for me.

I spent eleven months working towards my transplant. Living within each cycle of treatment and managing my new treatment after the Bad Day, because I was working towards my transplant. The transplant was the goal, and prior to it, I had to get through my treatments, week by week. Now, in the post transplant haze, I am left waiting for something and I am not sure yet, what that something is. I have until November to wait. In November I will find out whether my next step is to do nothing, go back on to VDT/VTD or have another transplant involving a donor stem cell. I do not know what will influence which.

Right now, I do not have an outlook post November. I do not know what my life is going to look like post November. I still cannot plan a bloody holiday. Working towards my transplant, I expected normality after it, but reality says that this might not be the case. I knew it would not be a magic plaster, but it has not stopped me from being disappointed with the reality. I have known this for a while, but right now, it is finally sinking in that this still might not be over, this volume is going to be a tomb and there is a chance that this will go on and on and on, until I stop. When anybody tells me something different, like all will be well in a year, I want to scream at them and say that we don’t know that yet and let’s face it, I want them to shut up. I don’t do that of course, I put on a brave face and carry on until I am alone.

This period that I am in, feels different to anything I have felt before. I am acutely aware of everything that is bad about myeloma, not that there is anything good about it mind. I want to say so many things about how I feel, about my fears, but within My Network, with the exception of my family, I have not said anything because all the way through this marvellous journey, I have been strong and I have been stoic. I may have had the occasional blip, but, mostly, I have carried on with what I had to do at the time and I have never broken down. I have been told by the people employed by a charity to support people like me, that it is usual at this time, that people begin to struggle with the status quo and fret about the future. I am doing all of that, but it is isolating because nobody understands it. I am expected to be stronger. I am expected to be rational. Somebody said to me the other day that I am a victim of my own positivity, perhaps that is paying to much credit to me, but at times I do feel like that. My behaviour up until now, I suspect, makes it difficult for people to comprehend the struggle I am in. Not everybody wants to hear it. I had counselling the other day, and in these things I tend to have the occasional epiphany because I am not in conversation with myself, and I said that I am frequently being asked how I am, but I think few people actually want to hear how I am. They want me to be better and well. It’s too difficult to hear anything else and anything else goes so strongly against my character. What I feel hardly fits into a text message.

How much should I share anyway? I have lost an ability to know how much information is too much information? What are the costs of sharing? Big Sister pointed out that whilst My Myeloma is my own, it also belongs to others too, and she got me thinking whether my approach can be selfish? Is sharing selfish? I do not know how people feel about my diagnosis. Is saying I feel down enough? When does sharing personal thoughts become too much?

Do not get me wrong, some of my stoicism remains. Indeed it does. I am getting out and about and smiling after all. I am not constantly wanting to break down and talk about mortality, a stolen life, and infertility, but I want to feel like I am able to should I need to, and people will not run a mile if I do. I do not always want to talk about it either. For most of the time, I absolutely do not want to talk about it. I want to be to be able to say I feel let down, abandoned or jealous, without it being an attack on my character or a reason for people not to see me. I cannot help the thoughts, they do not feel like my own and I beat myself up over it. I want people to understand that and show that understanding to me. I do not need to chin up, it is not sufficient. I need the opportunity to talk. Again, I was talking to my counsellor and I surprised myself by crying whilst recounting a message I received from a friend, which showed some understanding and crucially, patience. I need patience too. In short, I want to be cut a bit of slack.

I fully acknowledge that this whole thing might not necessarily make me a hoot to be around. I get that it could be a chore. I get that I cannot articulate it and at times I may become a passive aggressive female dog. I get that this sounds selfish. I get all of it, but I need the slack. FYI, These fears are just some of the things I think about now. I am aware that this behaviour and talk may drive people away, indeed, I was warned of this fact. I am not going to talk about it over a post work drink, but it goes back to me knowing that I could if I wanted to, and it is from there that the isolation stems. Boom. Insightful.

This is what I need now. I need understanding, patience and slack. I have been assured that this will pass, it may even pass by November, who knows, I’m a strong gal.

The truth is, I am not strong enough to go it alone.

I don’t want everybody to become my counsellor, that would just be awkward. I want an army behind me. I have an army behind me, however, in this post transplant world, I have lost sight of who does what.

EJB x

Bureaucracy

Have you ever filled looked at a form and thought that you would rather stick a needle in your eye and eat a horse manure pie, than to complete it? Of course you have. Well, that is just the predicament I find myself in at present.

Having cancer, and a cancer that effects ones mobility so much that they once asked a stranger to tie up their shoelace, is not enough to qualify as ‘disabled’, nor does it automatically entitle you to all the money in land. The Government, it would seem, require evidence. Mountains of it. I have spent the last week finding out just how much evidence is required.

To make my life just that little bit easier, I wish to be officially classified as disabled and I would like financial assistance with my rent. I have long been a fan of the welfare state, and although I have some misgivings about taking even more of your money, I feel now is the time to cash in on your enforced generosity. I have a cancer with no cure after all.

The only snag in my planning, is that I am not eligible to your money. Well, my landlord is not anyway. During a productive meeting with the Macmillan benefits advisor last week, I discovered that I cannot receive Housing Benefit, because my half pay still means I have £71 per week to live on after rent and council tax. Please note the £71 does not include utility bills. So, with my hopes dashed of receiving an extra £5 per week, I decided to think of a glass half full and be thankful that I did not have to complete another form, which required copies of my bank statement, two pay checks, tenancy agreement, medical diagnosis, proof of identity, two utility bills and Housemate’s salary details. Tick.

The kind lady, who I eventually won over with my manners and smile forty minutes into our chat, did think I would be eligible for free healthcare services. I know what some of you not based in the land of mince pies, shortbread and Stilton, will be confused by this statement, as you may understand our wonderful NHS to be free. Well, dental care, prescriptions (except when you have cancer) and eye care are not free for all. It’s the recession. So, I was given a twenty page form to complete, which only required a pay check, a year’s bank statement, thorough breakdown of financial assets (this was brief) and a utility bill. Bar a copy of my bank statement, that bad boy was completed yesterday. Tick.

When it comes to being disabled, the bureaucratic definition is somewhat more refined than the general public’s might be, and the definition varies between central and local government. Again, I will reiterate that all of this is to make my life that little bit easier, so it may surprise you to hear that to obtain a blue badge and concessionary travel, I needed to complete and provide the following;

* A 36 page form claiming Personal Independence Payment plus three additional pages explaining my physical limitations, which if approved will mean that in some quarters, including cinemas, museums and theatres, I will be classed as ‘Disabled’
* A six page form to my local council requesting free travel, because getting national agreement does not qualify me as disabled because lyctic lesions in the spine does not an automatic disabled make
* An online form requesting a Blue Badge, I am told that my local council may not allow me this, if I have free travel
* At least one, if not two, independent physical assessments
* At least one medical professional to back up my claims
* Numerous medical documents including a list of medication

Yesterday, I spent much of my day preparing this information. It was mildy satisfying, whilst being completely frustrating at the same time. It is a well known fact that government is a well oiled machine, so it wold be no surprise that I found the forms and information confusing. I received one form in the post that came with a stamped addressed envelope to return it, but I was separately informed that the council will only accept it if I return it in person. I feel like this could be a trick. I applied for the PIP benefit over a month ago and I received the form last week, thank goodness it was not urgent. Fortunately, there is a PIP helpline, which I phoned twice and I when I asked what information would be required, I was told that the help desk person had not seen the form. So, that was useful.

I will tell you something for nothing, I am constantly heading things about ‘Benefit Britain’ and people taking advantage of the system, but in order for somebody to understand these forms, they must be a frickin’ genius and deserve whatever they get. Even the ones who warrant the reminder to complete the forms in ink, with their own information and those of another.

Personally, I do not understand why there are so many hoops to jump. The system seems to be designed so that the applicant is branded a liar and then has to prove their innocence. Living with cancer is just so easy after all. It feels like a competition. My medical ailment is worse than yours… Fact.

Now, after all that form filling and ink, I have to take a trip to a photocopier, and then wait, and do a physical assessment and find out more about a mystery taxi service and try to recover from my transplant. Tick.

EJB x

My experience with the NHS

Somebody has asked me recently if my treatment was any better because I worked for the NHS.  The answer is NO, for a start not all of them were aware of where I worked.

My treatment throughout this whole process has ranged between good to excellent. The best part was being treated within a specialist hospital. The Univercity College London Hospital (UCLH), has it’s own cancer centre. It is a fairly new building, opening about a year ago. The building was well thoughtout and the environment is spacious and airy with plenty of natural light coming in. It makes for a good place to work, (I asked one of the nurses) as well as a relaxing place to visit as a patient. This makes a difference to the staff and they all seemed very calm, professional and caring. The service I received there was excellent. If I am being really picky, there are a few areas for improvement I suppose. The hospital has a patient portal system. This is a website where you can log in with your hospital number and find out when your next appointments are and leave messages for the people you are working with. This is fairly new and does seem to have some teething problems. The information is often wrong or out of date. I think, like any data base, it’s only as good as the information that is fed into it. So often I would be told of an appointment time by my specialist nurse and that would then differ from the information on the system, so I soon learnt not to trust it. Other than that my treatment has been faultless. All the doctors I have seen have been professional and friendly. I felt that I have been treated as an individual and have been given time whilst my wishes have been heard and respected. The nurses have also been excellent, nothing has seemed too much trouble and they have always done their best to make sure I have understood the procedures I have had to undertake. I have also been given excellent written information which I have been given time to digest and then I have been asked if I have had any questions. When I had my harvesting done, lying there for six hours allowed me to observe the nurses practice. They were short of staff the day I was there, and extremely busy but even so, I observed them to always wash their hands and put new gloves on in between each patient they attended to. They were professional but friendly at all times and a credit to their profession. Janet, my care co-ordinator and a research assistant, working alongside the doctors on the trial, has always been very supportive and ensured appointments were made at the most convenient times to allow for the journey time we had to make. At all times she kept us fully informed with the appointments and procedures I needed to undertake. For example yesterday I received an email from her explaining that I would need another bone biopsy carrying out. She asked if I would rather be sedated or not, clearly explaiming the pro’s and cons of both. She then said she would organise the appointment for after the party.

Locally I have been supported by the palliative care team, working for Hertfordshire Community NHS Trust. Yet again my treatment has been excellent. The nurse assigned to me was at all times extremely professional but also friendly and approachable. Nothing was ever too much trouble as she supported both Colin and I through some difficult times. She arranged for my medication to be changed and ready promptly for collection at my local GP practice, co-ordinating with my GP and the hospital. Louise also managed to set up more appointments with my psychologist when she recognised the need. My psychlogist was also extremely professional but helpful and accommodated my needs by visiting me at home and then organising appointments at the local Hospice. The support I have received at the Hospice has also been wonderful, with the doctors there spending 45 minutes listening and working alongside both Colin and I to plan the best course of action to holistically manage my pain. They also have and still are providing me with regular reflexology sessions.

So looking at the health service from the other side I couldn’t feel more proud. I was a reluctant patient and making the transition from nurse to patient was a difficult one, but at all times I have felt confident and comfortable with the support and treatment I have received.

 
Thank you to all of you who have been involved in my immediate care.

Deborah x

What a great team…

…we make. First we smash those cancerous cells to smithereens and then we go and grow enough baby cells for at least two transplants. You really can’t ask for more than that. For those of you wondering what happens next, I have an appointment for an echocardiogram and one with the consultant on July 11th. I expect then to bo booked in for another MRI scan and bone biopsy. These are tests that are routinely carried out but are also more important as I am taking part in a clinical trial. They will measure how many cancerous cells are left in my bone marrow and the damage that has been done to my bones. I already have several bone lesions but the consultants for one reason or another have been reluctant to let on where exactly they are. I have been very lucky with my cancer as it was spotted through a routine blood test and prior to me having any symptoms. For many other people the diagnosis is often spotted after a broken bone often in the neck or back.

My stem cells are being put on ice. That is because I am on a trial that will monitor how long it will be before I require a transplant. They reckon from between 18 months and two years, but I am counting on a good ten years before the little blighters start reproducing again. It is for this reason that I will be closely monitored and the reason why, unfortunately that your never without the constant reminder of your disease. It’s not like a cancer where a bit can be chopped off and then you are monitored for a few years and then if all is Ok you are off the hook. Myeloma sticks with you lying dormant like a sleeping dragon waiting to be woken again to breathe its fire. You need to learn to live with myeloma, make it your friend really, and set up some sort of pact. If I don’t poke you, you will leave me alone. Hmm maybe that’s more like an ex partner than a friend!

Oh well apart from the odd appointment to remind me, I want to pretty much forget about the whole thing and start living again. My first task is to ween myself off the enormous amount of drugs I’m taking so that I can enjoy a drink at the party.

Thinking about the party I have a few personal errands to run. Luckily our lovely old motorhome sailed through its MOT so we shall bring her home today and may take her out for a spin. I have been told to take it easy for a couple of days and my cancer co-ordinator said I should allow 3 months post cancer treatments to be back to my normal self. Well they don’t know me very well. I have just about had as much as I can stand of all of this sitting around. However I will take it easy for a day or two, I don’t want to rupture my groin!

Thank you for all your messages of support. When I talk about this having being a team effort, I mean this in all sincerity. Those of you who have provided support in the way of just reading the blog and letting me know you were on the same team helped immensely. The brain and the body are intricately connected and positivity of thought is very necessary. That is not to take away from the amazing skills of the medical teams playing their part in my recovery and present remission status.

Bless you all

Deborah xxx

A trip into London..

.and we are already on the move. I have got to enjoy my lie in nowadays, I expect the Amitriptyline has something to do about that. So it wasn’t easy to get up and in the bath by 6 and out of the house by 7am. There was a time, not that long ago, when I would have had no problem being into work by this time. I enjoyed the half an hour or so peace and quiet before the other early birds joined me. Those days, although only about six months ago, seem far in the distance now but we have a plan.

Yesterday my lovely pain nurse Louise (I hate calling her that, but palliative care nurse doesn’t sound much better)came to visit. If you need anything to get going, Louise is your girl. She arranged an appointment for me to see my Psychologist, Daria tomorrow and to meet up with one of the hospice doctors to learn a little bit more about Ketamine. I know I wasn’t too keen in 1) going into the hospice and 2) taking Ketamine but I really have had enough of the endless pain ruining my quality of life.

Today I will discuss the above with my consultant and ask for a referral to a neurologist who may be able to help me better understand nerve pain. I will also be speaking to him and my transplant nurse about the time for my harvesting. I must admit, I yet again think the NHS is doing me proud. I have a team of specialists who I feel are working with me on finding the best options for killing the cancer and curing the pain. It is such a shame that the Velcade caused me to have such an extreme side effect otherwise I would be a different person right now. I suppose at least I have increased my knowledge and understanding of pain and experienced first hand how disabling it can be. It is now beginning to obsess me and the greatest excitement in my day, is the thought of when I can have my next round of medication!

I have been invited out by my colleagues at the end of June which is pretty exciting but I will have to see how I am both physically and psychologically. I am sure they don’t want a blithering wreck spoiling things.

I am trying to do things for myself as I hate relying on all those generous people around me, but it isn’t easy. I just need to accept that and that I am not superhuman but I’d settle for just feeling human nowadays.

Deborah x

A trip out…

…to Brooklands museum in Surrey was enjoyed by all. I had the chance to sit in the Wellington and mum was able to share her father’s diary with some very interested historians. We all (Mum, Colin and I) came back on board the motorhome for lunch and then an afternoon nap before Mummy crept out to meet up with Kate and Martin again.

I really would like to get to the bottom of my pain, yesterday it wasn’t too bad but as soon as I sat down on the sofa it returned with a vengeance. Well I am bored of talking about it now, never mind having it.

Late last night I was very tearful and Colin found it hard to console me although he did a good job by changing my state and taking me back downstairs. I had received a lovely email from the chief exec which reminded me of who I used to be. I don’t like what I see in the mirror. It is the party and then a holiday to France that is keeping me going, but I am afraid only just. I am sharing this with you not that I at all want you to feel sorry for me (I do that enough for myself) but because it helps me to see it in writing and try and sort it out and to share with other Myeloma sufferers, that its Ok to feel down sometimes. Just because I don’t recognise the person in the photographs from only a few months ago doesn’t mean it’s not me. I just need to reinvent myself somehow. If I hadn’t suddenly realised that I have to go up to London for an echograph today, I would get on with my book then look forward to becoming Deborah, a recognised author, of children’s mental health books.

I wish the sun would come out again, perhaps it’s saving itself for the party.

Best Wishes

Deborah x

Just a short one…

…to keep you posted.

Yesterday I continued to feel much better, maybe because I took the Oramorph hourly? This resulted in me being able to get on with making my candle holders, out of jam jars.

Pollyanna and Rob popped in for a cooked breakfast and mum stopped by to do a couple more hours of gardening. Thank you mum.

Today will be pretty quiet as I sit around perhaps entering more competitions and Colin gets on with the spare bedroom.

So if anyone of you do want to pop in please just bring along some cake as we are once again cakeless and our only offerings will be a digestive. The problem is with the cakes such as Lorna so kindly made and dropped off on Thursday, is that they only last one day as they really are so delicious!

Enjoy the Sunshine today and please could you send lots of positive vibes to Judy a lovely lady who is running the Race for Life today, with my name on her back, in order to raise money for cancer research.

Thank you so much Judy.

Deborah xxx

Just a quickie…

…I know I have said that before and ended up going on and on, but this time I mean it. I need to get up and have a bath for today’s outing. Going out anywhere other than the hospital is pretty rare nowadays so it is quite an event. I expect your wondering where I’m off too well don’t get too excited, I’m going to the drop in for a cup of tea at the local Hospice. I would never imagine I would be going there in any other capacity than as a professional. I have been told that Hospices do many things other than care for the dying so I am going to find out. Classed as being terminally ill does have some benefits and I may be able to a access a variety of resources that could help manage my pain. Unfortunately the pain in my legs is getting worse rather than better and last night it woke me up resulting in me taking an extra swig of Oramorph. I am hoping some reflexology or acupuncture might help. As long as it goes by the time of the party I will be happy. Just on the subject of the party did you receive your invitation yet? If you have don’t forget to double click on the attachment to properly see the invitation which clearly shows the date and time. I am a little concerned that the although it looks fine on my mac it may not come out the same on a PC so any problems please just let me know.

Besides that my team manager is coming over for lunch today. I haven’t seen David for a while now and I just hope he will fill me in with what has been happening at Step2. Unfortunately David is a great believer that if you are off sick you need to concentrate on getting better and not be worrying about work. I however find it helps me to know what’s going on although I will probably be a little tearful today as I do miss my old routines although it is nice to sit out in the sunshine, and I am afraid at how I am going to manage to get back into work. The medication I am taking, the majority of which is for pain, makes me so dopey that I am not sure how much use I would be at work right now. Never mind hopefully things will improve. My pain nurse is bringing the psychologist along with her on her next visit as she thinks I may benefit from seeing her again. Maybe she is right as I am a little tearful at the moment. I think this is mostly at the reality of what I have lost and the fear of not regaining my old self.

Oh well I did say this was going to be a short one and any moment Colin will be shouting me down for the bath. Did you know most of my blogs take over an hour to write but I think I have got away with about 20 minutes this time.

Have a lovely day and on your way home from work or when you get 5 minutes to yourself just list the things you have to be appreciative of today then smile because living is good and most of us are very fortunate and privileged.

Deborah x

Back down to earth with a bump.

It is important to visualise, to dream and to be positive but at times you also need to be realistic. This is the lesson I learnt yesterday, not that I didn’t already know it but I had allowed my fantasies to perhaps go a step to far. Yesterday my consultant brought me back down to earth.

I was excited about my visit to see the consultant. I had imagined him hugging me and shaking Colin’s hand,congratulating us for beating all the odds. I had visualised him telling me that now that I had no para proteins in my body I was free of cancer. That is what I, my friends and family all wanted to hear. This is what we had been saying to one another. You don’t have cancer now. The doctor told me differently. The bits I heard before my eyes glazed over with tears and my emotional brain took over from my thinking one were;

  1. You will always have cancer
  2. You still have cancerous cells in your bone marrow 
  3. The blood tests show some areas of high risk
  4. The pain in your legs may take months to get better and in the worse scenario may never go away
  5. You should go and make good use of your local hospice and get to know the people there.

The reality of the conversation as translated later by Colin was; Yes I will always have cancer and that although my blood tests show no para proteins, this actually means that there are no active cancerous cells (just dormant ones) which indicates that I am in a period of remission. The doctor was delighted as to how well I had responded to the trial. He did say there were some indicators in my blood that showed I was in a high risk group but there were also some positive indicators too. The doctor couldn’t give me a timetable as to how long it would be before I needed the stem cell transplant but he did say it definitely wouldn’t be ten years (I am of course going to prove him wrong on this point!). The neuropathic pain in my legs may take several months to subside and in some cases it doesn’t go away all together.

I also met a new nurse who took me through my next time table events, spoke to me briefly about what to expect and have me a big pack of reading material to bring home. My next appointment is May 21st. On this date I will need to get another ECG done , see the consultant and have a two hour slot with the harvesting department, (I think it has another name but I am not sure what this is yet) to go over the consent forms and sign them. There must be a lot to explain if it is going to take two hours?

So my harvesting timetable is:
May 21st – consent appointment
May 25th – chemo
May 26th – injection with growth hormone (this can be done at home by myself or a willing volunteer)
May 27th – injection with growth hormone
May 28th – injection with growth hormone
May 30th – injection with growth hormone
May 31st – injection with growth hormone
June 1st – injection with growth hormone
June 2nd – injection with growth hormone
June 3rd – go in for Harvesting
June 4th – go in for Harvesting

During this period and apparently for a little while afterwards I am apparently likely to be Neutropenic. This means that I will have a very low white blood cell count therefore more open to infection. I apparently must take this very seriously and there is even a special diet you must follow when you are Neutropenic which is a bit like the diet restrictions for a pregnant woman. No uncooked meats, pâté etc, no raw eggs, soft cheese like goats cheese (my favourite) and no probiotic yoghurts. It doesn’t seem too bad a diet anyway.

I must admit I was quite tearful yesterday so I did pop in to see the lovely ladies in the Macmillan room and they helped to calm me down a bit. Maybe it was because I just felt very tired yesterday, perhaps the time away had caught up with me? I suppose also that I had been feeling a lot better and thinking more about my future and going back to work sometime. I think the hospital visit yesterday has re confirmed that my life has changed and that there will be no going back to it as it was. I think maybe I need to take this positively and see it as a time to look at different opportunities. This would all be fine if I could include winning the lottery in my plans then I wouldn’t need to work.

Today I will rest and perhaps start reading the pack of information given to me yesterday. I would also like to get the party invitations done and dusted if only I can get a clear enough head on.

I hope that it’s a good Wednesday for you all.

Try to do something every day that you enjoy as you never know what is around the corner!

Best Wishes

Deborah x