What A Difference A Day Makes

I had a very busy weekend, with a much anticipated theatre trip to see both parts of Harry Potter and The Cursed Child followed by a day trip to West Sussex on Sunday to walk from Amberley to Arundel with some friends.

I’ve been pretty busy over the past few weeks, including during the weekends, and felt like it all came to a head yesterday after I had my PET CT scan in Leicester. My body felt exhausted; I guess It was a mixture of aching from the walk, lack of sleep, lack of food as I was only allowed water prior to the scan, and a recently shoulder injury. Luckily, desipte not being able to be cannulated via my portacath the scan went ahead as planned.

I got worked up and anxious when I was told a nurse wasn’t available to cannulate me via my portacath. Previously I had been sent away from a PET CT scan after two unsuccessful attempts to put a cannula in my arm and had to come back another day for the scan to take place. At the time it was very distressing as I travelled to Leicester on my own for the scan, thinking I knew what I was letting myself in for. I’ve learnt that with cancer I never know what I am letting myself in for!

Over the past couple of years my portacath has been my saviour and I’ve not been to a scan on my own since. Fortunately, one of the radiographers managed to put a cannula in my arm on the first attempt so the radioactive tracer could be injected into my bloodstream. Considering how many times my veins have failed me I was pretty impressed. Now I have to arrange another visit to the chemotherapy suite for my portacath to be flushed (never a dull day!)

After the initial hiccup my scan went smoothly, I did my usual hour long wait once I’d had the tracer injected and then spent 45 minutes being scanned form head to toe. I am due to see my consultant for the results in the next month. Each scan comes with its own level of stress and anxiety, especially since my hospitalisation and anaphylactic shock when I had a CT scan a few years ago. As the months pass and I learn to live on my new ‘watch and wait’ routine I can’t help but feel like my world could fall apart again at any moment.

I felt really unwell after my scan on Monday and had to go back to bed when I returned to my mums house. I slept solidly for almost three hours, and it just goes to show what a difference a day makes.

Twenty-four hours earlier I was waking through fields with my friends, feeling energised without much worry, and within such a short space of time I felt like an invalid. When I tried to get out of my dads car when I got back I felt like I’d suddenly aged 40 years – walking seemed so difficult and I felt sick and exhausted. All I’d done is lay there in the scanner but it took so much out of me! It felt as though I’d just come home from treatment and my body was drained of energy.

I don’t often share the moments when I physically struggle online, because I want to focus on the positives, but also because ‘dear diary, I was exhausted so spent the day in bed’ doesn’t have the same ring to it. It hit me hard, but I need to keep my head up and keep going.

That ever changing 24 hour period was a harsh reminder of how fragile life with cancer can be. I am slowly beginning to feel better, after some research, Dr Google suggests I might have a trapped nerve which is causing shoulder and neck pain, so have booked in for some more acupuncture in the hope that the symptoms will be alleviated. I know I should really google me symptoms either!

A cynical voice in the back of my mind is linking the pain to disease progression, but I don’t want that negative energy to impact me. I haven’t had any other worrying symptoms over the last few months. Another part of me thinks my oncology team would ensure I get the results much quicker if there were any red flags from their end.

The next few weeks are going to be testing, and I really hope Scanxiety doesn’t kick in. It’ll be easier once I know where I stand so I can breath again.

A Spring In My Step

Over the past ten days I’ve started to notice a major change since the end of my cancer treatment. After approximately six months of being free from Immunotherapy, I’ve finally started to feel less fatigued, or at least I think I have!

I recently had a couple of weeks off work, which allowed for some much needed down time; it culminated in a trip to the Isle of Wight to see one of my friends get married. It was a fantastic weekend, full of sunshine and dancing and on the evening itself I didn’t get to bed until the early hours! I couldn’t tell you the last time that happened, and I’m not sure I could’ve done that a few months ago! The day after the wedding I felt exhausted, but in a different way to after hospital treatment. I felt really tired, but it certainly felt different to the extremely fatigued, glazed over sop-you-in-your-tracks feeling that I have been so used to. It was a great realisation that perhaps the long term effects of receiving cancer treatment might be fading slightly, therefore allowing me more room to breathe. Once I’d caught up on sleep, I felt really happy I’d danced the night away.

Despite feeling as though I have more of a spring in my step, I still feel broken by everything I have been through, and I know that feeling will never go away (or at least not easily). Over the past two years I’ve seen three different counsellors, had CBT and now take regular antidepressant medication and I am not sure my mental health will ever truly recover.

No matter how hard I try, I still have days where I am completely exhausted by the whole process of just living my life. It’s hard to navigate in this new world I’ve suddenly found myself in, I’m still baffled that I haven’t been to go to the GP in the past month. It’s literally blown my mind! This must be what other people feel like?!

I still live in constant fear of disease reoccurrence and I have frequent dreams about my demise, include finding out I have another brain tumour, or being in constant abdominal pain due to another bowel tumour. Sometimes I wake up and It takes me a moment to two to realise it wasn’t real after all. I don’t want cancer to define me, but it has been such a huge part of me that I am finding it hard to separate my life with cancer and my new regime without treatment. This is what I have dreamt and hoped for, but it’s much more difficult than I ever imagined it would be. I hope that in time I can start picking up the pieces of my shattered existence and start taking small steps forward again.

I haven’t written on much on my blog recently as I’ve been trying navigate in the new world I’ve recently found myself in, and hoped a blogging break  would help me to feel less like cancer is still ruling over my life. I do think it has helped, but I also find writing is a little like therapy, and helps in a similar way to my counselling sessions. 

I have a busy month ahead as I am due to celebrate another birthday in a couple of weeks. All birthdays are milestones for me, and I am very happy to be turning the glorious age of 32. My situation has changed beyond comprehension in my 31st year. Having been diagnosed with stage 4 melanoma with metastasis in my brain and my left lung at 23, it was a shock I made it to my 25th birthday, let alone my 30th a couple of years ago. I also never thought in a million years I’d seen the younger members in my family grow up, but two are about to enter into the adult world, and we had a new addition join our family at the end of last year, which has been life changing. These are life events I never thought I would be alive to see, and when I think about it, this makes me the happiest. I know I need to keep reminding myself of how far I’ve come and try to use this to my advantage.

I hope my energy levels continue to increase and get more plentiful as time goes on. I’ve already got the date for my next PET CT scan in July, so I am hoping and praying i continue to reap the rewards Pembrolizumab has offered me so far. 

When No News Is Good News

A few weeks ago I had my first PET CT scan since adopting a ‘watch and wait’ approach to my cancer treatment earlier in January. Although I had to wait almost a month to see my consultant for the results, I am thrilled to report that all has remained stable.

I feel like this a major hurdle I’ve somehow manage to navigate. Naturally, every scan makes me anxious and scared, but this felt different as It was first time in years I’ve had a scan whilst off treatment. It’s the first time since I stopped doing anything to help my melanoma remain stable. No longer doing my bit by going for Immunotherapy is hard to get my head around, but as they say, no news is good news.

I am still feeling very fatigued, but as many people have pointed out to me I have an active social life and a busy full time job, so there is no doubt in my mind these are contributing factors. Often it feels like 10 hours of sleep a night is not nearly enough, so I probably need to reign it in a bit. It’s hard to find the time to see friends, family and work a 40 hour week, but I often feel like others around me manage it! I know my next few weekends are quiet and I have some annual leave coming up soon which is a blessing as I can spend some much needed time chilling out, watching Netflix, getting up late and doing small things like sorting out my wardrobe, and putting photos from my summer holiday trips to America and Thailand on my laptop and getting some printed; something I’ve promised myself I’d do for months, but I’ve never felt I had the time.

I’ve also been relatively quite on my blog of late as I’ve tried to settle in to my ‘new normal’ and readjust to my routine (or what feels like a lack of routine altogether!) and in all honesty, I’ve been too tired when I get home from work to write a post when I don’t feel I’ve too much to say. I’m just trying to get on with my life, which is a good thing, and exactly what my Oncology team have been telling me I need to do.

I’ll be celebrating today’s win with an early night and attempt to carry on my ‘new normal’ life until my next scan in the summer.

Fighting Fatigue

Since Christmas, I’ve noticed I’m in need of more sleep, perhaps In part it’s the cold winter weather and dark mornings, however I feel I have been fighting fatigue more than ever recently. It’s not ideal given that I had a chemo break over the new year, and in theory I should be feeling more awake and energised than usual.

I long for the day when I wake up and actually feel revitalised and refreshed from catching my z’s, rather than feeling like however much I sleep I get it’s never going to be enough. At the weekend I slept for 11 and a half hours, only to wake up get washed and dressed and go back to sleep. I’d slept for nine and a half hours the previous night so I can’t blame it on a lack of sleep the night before.

Everyone always tells me to listen to my body, but right now I feel as though it’s constantly running on empty without a way to refuel? Sometimes I’m so shattered that I practically spend a whole day in bed, I worry that I’m wasting the day away, this precious time whilst I am ‘healthy’ but feel like I have no choice! It is so frustrating being chronically tired, I think it often adds to my depression and negative feelings.

I’ve learnt there is a lot of power in taking a nap, but it’s certainly not the fatigue beating cure I’m searching for. Perhaps it makes things worse? Recently I’ve been going to bed around 9pm and sleeping for as long as physically possible, by the time 4pm comes around at work I feel like a zombie, struggling to keep my eyes open, I am done for the day and in need of a sugar hit to keep me going. At the weekends naps and a must, and I wonder how on earth I manage Monday – Friday without them. I sometimes wish my office had a little room where I could go and lie down for an hour.

Often, even though I’m exhausted, I have nights where my worries keep me awake and it’s difficult to settle, which make the following day even worse. Tiredness affects me both mentally and physically, and it can be really isolating as I am always envious of others who seem to have boundless amounts of energy. I often end up postponing or cancelling plans because I simply don’t have the energy. Having spent the past four and half years on treatment I don’t think I know what being awake and refreshed feels like anymore. I thought I’d gotten used to feeling this way but perhaps not if that past few weeks are anything to go by.

I know that keeping active can really help reduce tiredness, but it can also make me more exhausted, so I feel like I can’t win. Hopefully it’ll pass as the days get longer and lighter. I’m bored of being physically, emotionally and mentally tired.

Scan Results And Festive Freedom

Yesterday I received results from my last PET CT and MRI scans and I’m relieved to say that the results were good and everything continues to be stable.

After getting over the Scanxiety, I was feeling somewhat confident that the results would be stable, however the worry is never too far from my mind. Hopefully this means I can relax a little over the Christmas and New Year period.

I am fortunate enough to be having a chemo break and am not due back to see the oncology team at my hospital in Leicester for another six week. In my 2 and a half years of receiving Pembrolizumab this is a rare occurrence, and one I am especially grateful for at this time of year, fingers crossed this will be a blissful time of freedom over the festive period.

I haven’t written a blog post since The Truth About Depression three weeks ago. Part of me has been living in purgatory waiting to get my scans over and done with, and the other part has felt like I’ve not really got anything more to say. I haven’t suddenly snapped out of my downward spiral, but I am taking more steps to try and help myself.

I have now had my 41st cycle of Pembrolizumab and the fatigue seems to be hitting me more than ever. Lucky I have been working from home and resting which always helps, but powering through never feels like an option when it comes to post treatment tiredness. This is something I didn’t appreciate before I started having Pembrolizumab. A while back I wrote a post called Tired of Being Tired, which summarised my feelings on being physically and mentally exhausted. After reading it back, I feel the same as I did back then, annoyingly getting used to it doesn’t make me feel any less exhausted.

Exhaustion comes in waves, and when it hits it seems to affect my energy levels straight away. There is something about being in a hospital waiting room which makes me feel so sleepy, even with all the alarms and buzzers going off every few minutes. Having the treatment itself makes me become a total zombie, and I often struggle for a few days afterwards, making small things such as walking up the stairs or packing a bag seem like a huge struggle. I don’t trust myself to drive after chemo as my judgement certainly isn’t what it should be. I long to feel free and full of energy again, so perhaps having a treatment break over Christmas is exactly what I need.

A couple of people have asked me if I planned to celebrate my stable scans results. A few years ago I used to mark them as more of an occasion, but I honestly don’t think about them as a moment to jump up and down for joy. Nowadays I am too scared of what the future holds and I’ve been feeling particularly vulnerable over the past couple of months.

Of course I am so grateful to be in this position, even if living with cancer does take its toll, but I prefer to try and reset my mindset to one that isn’t in complete panic mode. I want to try and look forward to the next few months rather than just celebrate one moment. Hopefully I will feel less like I’m holding a poisoned chalice and perhaps as though I am holding a glass half full instead.

Fingers crossed for more good news in 2019. Until then I need to go back to sleep, rest and try to fight off a cold I think is coming my way as I’m a bit under the weather.

The British 10k

I’ve decided to take on another race, the The British 10k in preparation for my Northampton Half Marathon in September. I know, I know, here I go again…

I recently took part in the Lake District 5 Peak Challenge for Trekstock. I know I’ve since moaned a lot, but It was the most mentally and physically tough challenge I’ve set myself to date, and I’m still a little injured because of it. Despite everything I wouldn’t change a thing.

Completing the 10k will determine if I’m on track for the Half Marathon for The Lewis Foundation in Northampton in September, so I am testing the waters so to speak. I’ve ran a half marathon before however I was much fitter then and the treatment I was having meant I could sustain a good training routine. This time around I haven’t done any running and have hardly set foot in a gym since late last year. My body moves slower than it used to and the frequency of treatment means I suffer debilitating fatigue for days on end.

Despite everything I feel like I have to do something, even raising a small amount could help make a big difference. I know the weather is set to be much nicer than when I did the London Winter Run 18 months ago for Cancer Research UK with family and friends, so that is a bonus.

Over the past few months I’ve been following the story of fellow stage 4 melanoma patient Emily Hayward via Instagram and You Tube and learnt today that she has sadly passed away. I know I am not alone when I say her story touched so many lives, both with or without cancer. I found her vlog really compelling as there are so many parallels with our journeys. She has inspired so many people with her strength and positivity, not just those with Melanoma but others undergoing immunotherapy and chemotherapy too. She maximised the good days, and chatted about making her days matter, and making her life count even though the odds were stacked against her. Emily accepted her diagnosis and lived life to the full every single day. There have been other great Melanoma blogs such as Dear Melanoma and Wrestling Melanoma I’ve followed over the years but sadly those people have since passed away too. Who is to say I won’t be next? No one.

News like this hits home hard! It’s a scary reality and I’m petrified about what may come, in an instant one can realise that life is so fragile, and so bloody unfair. The cancer club is a horrible club to be part of, but it is full of very incredible people.

I need to feel like I’m doing my bit; as I’ve said before it gives me a sense of purpose and focus. I want to make sure my life counts, and make each day really matter, I guess perhaps we only have one life after all?

The NHS is an incredible resource which we are very very lucky to have in the UK, but charities like Trekstock offer support that I haven’t always found elsewhere and feel it’s only right to try to make a difference in the hope it’ll help others like me moving forward, either experiencing a life with cancer, or a life after cancer.

If anyone is free early morning on Sunday 15th July and in central London, do feel free to come and cheer me along during The British 10k. I’m not sure I’ll be running, as I still need rest and don’t have time to train, but even if I’m walking I don’t mind, just as long as I cross the finish line. If anyone does wish to sponsor I’m looking to raise £200 from this event, and will also be raising money in August ahead of the Northampton Half Marathon. A link to my page for the 10k is here.

I’ll never understand why life deals some people such a bad hand; I feel overcome with emotion just thinking about it, and at the moment I’m one of the lucky ones which seems bizarre. Life is short, and I want to live mine to the fullest for as long a possible. I don’t want to waste a moment of this precious life. I just wish I had the answer on how to fix things.

Still hoping for a miracle.

I Should Have Been Dead By Now

It’s almost my 31st birthday. This year, like every year I’m beyond grateful to have had another 365 days on this Earth. Looking back over the previous year I realise how much I have achieved. I might have travelled less than previous years, struggled a lot with my mental health, and seen friends and family less frequently that I would have liked, but I’m still alive. Quite frankly I should have been dead by now. In fact, on paper it should have died years ago.

I was told upon diagnosis in 2010 that people with my type of cancer at such a late stage lived for an average of 18 months. There have been numerous points over the past few years when I truly thought that I wasn’t going to make it for much longer. Having been diagnosed with stage 4 melanoma in two sites (brain and lung) at 23 it was a shock I made it to my 25th birthday, let alone my 30th last year.

Any money I have managed to save during working life has gone towards living a good life when I’ve worked less, paying to be able to live independently when I’ve been signed off sick from work for weeks on end, or going on trips and holidays to make the most of life when I’ve been feeling well enough. Saving towards a house or something more substantial feels impractical because I’m not sure I’ll have a future to be around and enjoy it. Now I’m 31, but I’m not sure how much ‘good’ time I have left.

Two years ago I was in hospital, having had surgery to remove cancer from my bowel for the second time. I had hardly any hair of my own, and what I did have was unrecognisable from my usual self. Four years ago I also spent my birthday in hospital, having initial been admitted for suspect appendicitis at St George’s Hospital in London. It turned out to be my first bowel tumour and marked the start of me receiving systemic cancer treatment in hospital every few weeks.

I do feel as though I put pressure of myself to do things whilst I am well enough and feel able, therefore making the most of the time I’ve got left until I start to deteriorate. In reality I want to make the most of things, however lack of time and energy are huge factors. Naturally I want to make most of what I’ve got now, but I also need to stop, look around and appreciate what I have. It might not last must longer, so I need to pause and take stock. Some days are better and others are much worse, and accepting that has been one of the hardest parts of living with cancer.

When I was in my early 20s I thought I wouldn’t see my younger siblings grow up. Now they are grown up and are taller than I am! In a way time flies, but the long road has been full of twists, turns and more than my fair share of major challenges along the way. I’m often trying to charge forward in life and catch up with all my friends along the way, but I need to accept this is unlikely. Just to be alive and well feels like a miracle sometimes.

I should have been dead by now, but I’m still alive and considering my dire prognosis it’s a huge win for me to be doing so well.

The Rough And The Smooth

I used to find it so clichè when people described having cancer as being on a rollercoaster, but at the moment, it feels like one of the best ways to easily articulate daily life living with stage 4 melanoma.

In my previous post I mentioned that amazing news that my last PET CT scan results were stable. Despite this, I have felt very up and down over the past three weeks. Sometimes I find living with the side effects of cancer treatment can be harder that having the treatment itself.

Sadly the results don’t mean all my side effects from taking Pembrolizumab disappear over night, it’s probably quite the opposite as somehow I feel more aware of my body than ever before. Living with cancer has so many ups and downs, it’s mentally challenging and know from experience that the good news can change to bad very quickly.

Last week I dreamt I had five brain tumours, not one, but five! Negative thoughts like this will always haunt me, and dark clouds will follow me around wherever I go. I worry so much, particularly about getting a brain tumour. I had one removed when I was initially diagnosed with stage 4 cancer in 2010 so for me this isn’t an irrational thought.

Over the past few weeks I have been attending regular CBT sessions in order to help me manage my anxiety surrounding my diagnosis and the depression that comes with it. It is hard to accept that having been labelled as terminally ill it essentially means I am dying. It might not be today, or tomorrow, or in a month or perhaps even a year, but one day cancer will get the better of me. For all those people who suggest I could get hit by bus tomorrow and die instantly so I shouldn’t worry; trust me it is not that same thing. At the moment I’m taking each day as it comes, taking the rough with the smooth so to speak. When I’m in a negative spiral it can often take a little longer to ride out, even though I try to be a positive as possible.

According to the NHS website, Cognitive behavioural therapy (CBT) is a type of talking therapy that can help you manage your problems by changing the way you think and behave.

It’s most commonly used to treat depression and anxiety, and is based on the idea that negative thoughts and feelings can trap a person in a vicious cycle. The therapy aims to help people deal with problems that feel overwhelming in a more positive way, by breaking them down into smaller parts. Essentially learning how to change negative patterns and become more positive, looking for practical ways to improve a persons state of mind.

Through my experience so far I think CBT has been beneficial, however as I write this I am mid hospital appointment, having just broken down in tears. A hospital is the last place I’d ever want to be, but I don’t have a choice about coming to have treatment. Sometimes it’s all too much, even if the appointments are running to time. It’s not one particular thing that makes me emotional, it’s the whole treatment process. A classic example of a day which had been pretty unstable; I feel like I’ve experienced so many emotions in one afternoon. Hopefully tomorrow will be a better day and the CBT will continue to help me move forward living with cancer.

This July marks two years on current wonder drug Pembrolizumab and 7.5 years of living with stage 4 melanoma. Any tips on helping manage emotions would be much appreciated.

Lake District Five Peaks Challenge

Last weekend I conquered the Lake District 5 Peaks for charity, including England’s highest mountain Scafell Pike in just one day. I did this in aid of Trekstock, a young adult cancer charity I’ve frequently mentioned in my blog.

I found out about Trekstock through social media, and over the last 18 months I’ve found them a great source of support. Through the charity I took part in their RENEW exercise programme and also became involved in the BBC documentary A Time To Live by Sue Bourne. I have also benefited from other events they’ve organised for those who have experienced cancer.

The challenge, organised through the company Charity Challenge was without a doubt one of the hardest things I’ve done in my life! It was the most difficult physical challenge I’ve set myself so far. I was on my feet walking for the best part of 12 and a half hours straight and I found the trek both physically and mentally tough. I felt so many emotions in one short space of time; I laughed and I cried! (A lot!), but I’m proud to say I did it! I was the last person in my challenge group of 44 people to finish on the day, and I’m sure I said I couldn’t do it about 1000 times. My hips and legs became so tired that I had to give up my backpack for the last four hours, and the Charity Challenge team kindly carried it for me. I kept joking that the leaders should apply for World’s Strongest Man as they carried my backpack (as well as their own), whilst navigating across the boulders and rough terrain of the landscape. The whole experience reminded me of the type of person I am; I’m a fairly nervous person, I get scared easily, and the weekend confirmed that I’m certainly not an outdoor enthusiast! It took me longer than average to learn to swim, ride a bike and drive a car, so I shouldn’t be surprised I found the trek tough going! I know I won’t be signing up to adventurer Bear Grylls next TV show in a hurry.

Despite my initial disappointment at finishing last, I have to remind myself it wasn’t a race, I also had chemotherapy last Monday, so I know I should be especially proud. Initially it felt bitter sweet; the challenge reminded me that I am not invincible, and that having stage 4 cancer means I will inevitably find it difficult to do things that a healthy person could do more easily. As first I felt really upset, as it was a reality check, but it hindsight I’m just glad to have finished.

I’m still very sore and in pain, and pretty sure I’m going to loose a toenail but it was worth it!  Without sounding like an awards acceptance speech; I am grateful to my two wonderful friends that completed the trek with me (they must be mad!), I’ve never been so happy to see two people before. Huge thanks to the Charity Challenge team who made sure I powered through, and of course to the lovely Trekstock team. I know the money raised will continue to make a huge difference to people like me. It was lovely to meet so many other people connected to the charity, who gave me encouragement, supported and cheered me on until the bitter end. I’ll certainly be visiting the Lake District again soon, it isn’t an area of the world I’d visited before, and the landscapes were stunning. It goes to show there is so much beauty in England so close to home, I still have The Travel Bug, but I’d love to explore the UK more.
 At the moment I’m not sure the Lake District 5 Peaks would be something I would do again in a huge rush, but knowing me I’ll probably end of signing up to something else in few weeks. Perhaps I should opt for a simple bake sale instead? Overall I feel a great sense of achievement. and I’ll be riding high on that wave for a while, even if I am still hobbling.

Its great feeling knowing the money raised can make a real difference, helping to improve the physical and psychological wellbeing of people in similar shoes to mine. In total I’ve raised over £1,100 for Trekstock so far, and if you’d still like to donate you can do so here.

I am also delighted to say that I had stable scan results at my oncology appointment last Monday, which is of course fantastic news. Now that I know, I hope I can relax more over the next few months and enjoy my summer adventures and birthday celebrations.

The Waiting Game

I am now playing the waiting game, having had a PET CT scan last week to check for any disease progression. I am keeping everything crossed and hope more than anything that my scan indicates my cancer has remained stable over the past few months.

Due to a Christmas break and Easter holidays It’s been over five months since I had my last scan, so I’ve had an extra long break from the anxiety that usually comes every three months. It’s safe to say if something is wrong I’ll be kicking myself for not having had a PET CT scan sooner.

Luckily I’ve been fairly busy over the past few days, which acts as a good distraction from all things melanoma related, but it doesn’t make the thoughts and feelings go away all together. I’ve had a few nights where I’ve been laying awake panicking about dying, a very real concern, but a very unhealthy thought process.

Waiting for results is the worst past of cancer treatment, my mind races with so many different thoughts it’s hard to keep on the right track and keep a grip on reality. In the past week alone I had three different medical appointments on three separate days, which in itself is exhausting. Having stage 4 cancer is a full time job and it will always be more important than anything else going on in my life.

My last four blood tests have shown I’m suffering from anaemia, which is not at all unusual for me, but is a bit of red flag. I’m normally boarder line when it comes to my haemoglobin levels, so I’m now taking iron tablets prescribed by my GP religiously in the hope they will help me feel less exhausted. I’m off to the Lake District to do the 5 Peak Challenge for Trekstock next week so I need to be on top form. I just hope it doesn’t lead to a blood transfusion!

When I had my PET CT scan last week I had a problem with my portacath. Over the last 12 months It’s been completely reliable, taking away the anxiety and stress of having a cannula fitted or blood taken every few weeks. Despite the nurses best attempts my portacath refused to bleed back, even though it was flushing normally. In the end I had to have the radioactive tracer for the scan injected via a vein in my arm, which was not ideal, as I have the world’s most pathetic small and thin veins! Luckily it was fine in the end, however there was probably about 20 minutes of failed attempts when my anxiety levels were through the roof (I previously had a couple of extremely bad scan related experiences).

Hopefully my portacath was just having an off day and will flush ok when I go for my next chemo appointment, otherwise I may need medicine to help unblock it! It’s the least of my issues but certainly adds to the stress of the whole treatment process.

Keeping everything crossed for my results!