It's been a long time since I last posted and a lot's happened. First it got better and they thought it was a tumour on a hormone gland which was messing me up but very manageable. Then it got worse and my blood was abnormal and they thought it was brain cancer which gave me about 5 years, maybe less, maybe more depending on how big and aggressive and accessible it was. Fortunately after tests and scans and a tense weekend in hospital that was cleared. And we were back to square one. My consultant was not though. He thought and deliberated and tested some more. And 4 weeks later came up with a diagnosis. I have an autoimmune disease. Which is AWESOME! Pop a few pills, don't drink any alcohol, give my body time to heal, keep an eye on it and we're all good.
To say that being given years to live has changed me forever would be over dramatic and untrue. It was a very tense and stressful time but in retrospect it was actually a very reassuring time. There was an afternoon when I sat in my bed looking at every photo I'd taken in my 3 years at Uni and it was startling. Not only had I done such a wide variety of things with such a colourful array of people, but there were so many things I'd forgotten: the time that we went to watch the Guildford fireworks and I took baked potatoes and beans with little sausages and ate them on the platform, the time me and Leah walked home in the snow and I spent the entire walk covering her in snow balls, the time I visited Louise and we made rabbit stew and apple pies. I didn't look back over my 21 years and think, wow what have I been doing all this time? I thought wow well if I do die soon at least I've crammed every last bit of entertainment into my days. That's really reassuring to know that you've been living your life in a way that would satisfy you if it did turn out to be your last day.
It was also incredible to have so many friends and family members rise up in support. The little texts they'd send me of good luck or just love would brighten my day so much. One friend kept sending me little seaside post-cards, another would talk to me in the middle of the night when I couldn't sleep and another would let me visit her house and then have a nap in the middle! My friends were fantastic but there's nothing quite like the support of family. There was one night when I had been told it looked really bad that day when, having held it together I couldn't sleep and completely lost it and cried and cried in my bed. I hadn't cried about it at all since then I'd just kept plodding but I'd decided to read about it in my medical text book and just seeing the stark figures of prognosis made it all hit home. But my Mum woke up and heard me, and got into my bed and it was like being a child. But I was very grateful for that comfort of a Mum as there's that comfort and support that you just can't get anywhere else.
Gratefulness is what I intend to take away from this experience. It's made me realise what I've been doing right, which aspects of my life need a bit more attention and just what a lucky person I am. But I am also grateful to move on. To start feeling well. To be able to eat food and enjoy it. To be able to bake (I think I may have missed this more than eating!) without being ill. I'm going to start running again and enjoy that feeling of my body working. There are a few bad points I'd like to take forward to medical school, for I hope that being armed with the experience of bad news will help me soften the blow when I'm on the other end of the experience, but other than that lets move on and start a new (slightly cheesy but justified metaphor alert!) page of the book.
My Family and Other Animals has always been my favourite book:
“I said I liked being half-educated; you were so much more surprised at everything when you were ignorant.”
