On Monday this week 14 cubs and scouts including my son took part in a sponsored swim, with half of the proceeds going to the Tamworth Wellbeing and Cancer Support Centre, my charity! I visited them a few weeks ago to talk about the charity and a little about my experiences, and sat poolside on Monday helping to count the lengths swam. It was an enjoyable experience working with kids to raise awareness about what we do. This last challenge wasn't designed to bring in hundreds of pounds for my final total, but was to encourage greater community involvement hopefully inspiring children from a young age to get involved in charity work. There are some shining examples of young adults and children who've been amazing inspirational role models for their respective charities, who've achieved far more than I ever will be able to, some who've sadly left us behind at far too young an age. Hopefully we can all reach out to others and all do our bit to help someone else.
These 40 challenges have shown me a wonderful side of other people. People keep telling me that I inspire them, but it's the reaction that I get that inspires me. I cannot thank enough the total stranger to me who got me up a climbing wall! The volunteers at the centre have supported me with all the hair brain plans I've had, including this weekend's party. My own family have done lots too donating auction prizes, taking part in challenges with me, or just putting up with all the randomness that my ideas for challenges bring with them!
Finally I mustn't forget each and every one of you who's read my blog, shared my posts or put a few quid in the pot. You keep me going!
I now enter into my last few weeks at being in my 30's and I do not fear being 40 at all. I've accomplished such a lot, and have so much to be thankful for.
Thursday, 8 October 2015
Friday, 2 October 2015
Breast Cancer Awareness Month
This time almost 5 years ago, I would not have had an idea about breast cancer. I didn't regularly check myself or pay any attention to statistics. I never dreamed that someone in their mid 30's with no health problems would get breast cancer. It literally was a bolt out of the blue.
I remember the couple of months leading up to my diagnosis well. We'd had a fabulous holiday down in Dorset and even joked about buying a static down there, out of our affordability but it was a nice dream. I'd gone back to work and was confident in my job, second year full time and going well on a uni course to study for a foundation degree. We went to a school quiz just days before, everything fine, I'd even had a parents evening with my parents and I joked about never going to have a day off from work, then BOOM!
It was Rob's (my husband's) 39th birthday and I was in the shower. I randomly was soaping myself up and I felt something strange. I think I'd done the same a few days earlier but thought nothing about it. This time I was sure something wasn't right. I told Rob, my mum, my sister etc that something wasn't right so decided to get an appointment at the doctors. That night we went out to the pub to celebrate his birthday. I remember sitting there with a glass of wine, the last drink I've ever had and I just wasn't right. I left my drink and a gloom had settled over me.
Shortly after I saw my GP. I thought she was very dismissive of my lump. She said she'd send my for a routine mammogram at the hospital and the appointment would be through in around 2 weeks!! I was in complete and utter turmoil, the thought of waiting two weeks seemed impossible. My mum did some chasing around and managed to get me into a private clinic to see a well known consultant for that very weekend. I'd never dreamed of ever going private, but I was in such a state that it seemed like the best idea.
Saturday came around. My mum and dad came to look after the kids. We told hem we were just popping to the shops. We thought they were too young to be worrying about this if it turned out to be nothing. We pulled up in the car park in the private hospital, silly me says "ooo look free parking!" We went in and waited. I remember someone asking me if I wanted to see the price lists for mammograms and ultrasounds. I agreed although there wasn't much point really, as sat there I wasn't really going to not pay for it!
The ultrasound and mammogram were all a bit of a hazy memory, I've had so many since. We then sat with the consultant for the results. Now everyone had convinced me he'd say it was just a cyst. Those of you who know me know I'm usually a glass half empty kind of girl, but people had got me into thinking it was half full. When we words "It's not good news I'm afraid" came out of his mouth I was devastated. Words can not describe how I felt at that very moment, I just fell to pieces.
Eventually after he had got a nurse in to calm us down he came back and went through what happens next. At that stage he couldn't confirm categorically that it was cancer, but he was pretty certain. He needed to arrange for me to have a biopsy to check the exact nature. He knew that we couldn't really afford to be private so switched us back into his NHS clinic for this. My life from thereon for the next few weeks became a haze.
I remember the sobbing phone calls to various family members in the car park. We still had to somehow get home and tell the children. I don't even remember how we did that. I just remember some months later a nine year old telling me how she remembered how I lied to her on that Saturday when I had my first appointment. After that I promised that if possible I'd always tell her the truth, even when I regularly got questions like "Are you going to die mummy?"
Those few weeks from being told in all probability I had cancer until the day I finally got my diagnosis on 3rd November and a plan for treatment were possible almost the worst in my life. I'd got plans for the hymns and songs I'd like for my funeral. I had to be there to take my kids to and from school. I couldn't not see them off each morning. I just kept thinking, "would they remember me when I'm gone?"
When 3rd November came around, I remember walking out with a smile. The sun shone through the windows of the hospital waiting room as I left, but I felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. From the outside this seems strange, but on the inside I'd got an answer. I knew that I had an aggressive form of breast cancer, and had been told what my treatment path was. I knew that treatment would begin pretty quickly and I had some direction and goal in my life.
I hope reading the fullest account I've ever written about my diagnosis will help you see what being breast cancer aware is all about. Please share this with your friends. Remember I have walked through some of the darkest days, but I'm here still to walk in the sunshine.
I remember the couple of months leading up to my diagnosis well. We'd had a fabulous holiday down in Dorset and even joked about buying a static down there, out of our affordability but it was a nice dream. I'd gone back to work and was confident in my job, second year full time and going well on a uni course to study for a foundation degree. We went to a school quiz just days before, everything fine, I'd even had a parents evening with my parents and I joked about never going to have a day off from work, then BOOM!
It was Rob's (my husband's) 39th birthday and I was in the shower. I randomly was soaping myself up and I felt something strange. I think I'd done the same a few days earlier but thought nothing about it. This time I was sure something wasn't right. I told Rob, my mum, my sister etc that something wasn't right so decided to get an appointment at the doctors. That night we went out to the pub to celebrate his birthday. I remember sitting there with a glass of wine, the last drink I've ever had and I just wasn't right. I left my drink and a gloom had settled over me.
Shortly after I saw my GP. I thought she was very dismissive of my lump. She said she'd send my for a routine mammogram at the hospital and the appointment would be through in around 2 weeks!! I was in complete and utter turmoil, the thought of waiting two weeks seemed impossible. My mum did some chasing around and managed to get me into a private clinic to see a well known consultant for that very weekend. I'd never dreamed of ever going private, but I was in such a state that it seemed like the best idea.
Saturday came around. My mum and dad came to look after the kids. We told hem we were just popping to the shops. We thought they were too young to be worrying about this if it turned out to be nothing. We pulled up in the car park in the private hospital, silly me says "ooo look free parking!" We went in and waited. I remember someone asking me if I wanted to see the price lists for mammograms and ultrasounds. I agreed although there wasn't much point really, as sat there I wasn't really going to not pay for it!
The ultrasound and mammogram were all a bit of a hazy memory, I've had so many since. We then sat with the consultant for the results. Now everyone had convinced me he'd say it was just a cyst. Those of you who know me know I'm usually a glass half empty kind of girl, but people had got me into thinking it was half full. When we words "It's not good news I'm afraid" came out of his mouth I was devastated. Words can not describe how I felt at that very moment, I just fell to pieces.
Eventually after he had got a nurse in to calm us down he came back and went through what happens next. At that stage he couldn't confirm categorically that it was cancer, but he was pretty certain. He needed to arrange for me to have a biopsy to check the exact nature. He knew that we couldn't really afford to be private so switched us back into his NHS clinic for this. My life from thereon for the next few weeks became a haze.
I remember the sobbing phone calls to various family members in the car park. We still had to somehow get home and tell the children. I don't even remember how we did that. I just remember some months later a nine year old telling me how she remembered how I lied to her on that Saturday when I had my first appointment. After that I promised that if possible I'd always tell her the truth, even when I regularly got questions like "Are you going to die mummy?"
Those few weeks from being told in all probability I had cancer until the day I finally got my diagnosis on 3rd November and a plan for treatment were possible almost the worst in my life. I'd got plans for the hymns and songs I'd like for my funeral. I had to be there to take my kids to and from school. I couldn't not see them off each morning. I just kept thinking, "would they remember me when I'm gone?"
When 3rd November came around, I remember walking out with a smile. The sun shone through the windows of the hospital waiting room as I left, but I felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. From the outside this seems strange, but on the inside I'd got an answer. I knew that I had an aggressive form of breast cancer, and had been told what my treatment path was. I knew that treatment would begin pretty quickly and I had some direction and goal in my life.
I hope reading the fullest account I've ever written about my diagnosis will help you see what being breast cancer aware is all about. Please share this with your friends. Remember I have walked through some of the darkest days, but I'm here still to walk in the sunshine.
Wednesday, 23 September 2015
Remembering friends
Today marks the 21st anniversary of my best friend's death from non-hodgkin's lymphoma aged just 18. I shed a few tears remembering how she suffered, but battled through with amazing courage and spirit. It's only when you have cancer yourself do you truly appreciate what living with cancer is really like. I stood on the sidelines and watched a teenager cruelly taken away from us when she should have been enjoying some of the best years of her life. She wore a smile and made us laugh even when she was really sick. I will never forget that friendship.
Cancer never goes away from you. As I sit here thinking about what her life might have been like, I think how fortunate I am to be given another chance with mine. This is partly why I want to make a difference. Cancer has weakened me in many ways physically and mentally, but it has given me and new strength and direction in life. I wear my scars proudly, a battle won. I hope like Margaret was inspirational for me, I can inspire someone else in their dark places that cancer takes them.
My challenges to celebrate my 2 major landmarks are almost at the end. This week I visited our local cubs and scouts to talk to them a little bit about my cancer and the charity that has helped me throughout. They will be embarking on their sponsored swim in little over a week's time, hopefully generating a little more money for the charity, but also gaining a better understanding about how a local charity works near them.
The support I've had as be amazing throughout the last few months. It really will have made a difference to people's lives with cancer.
Margaret I hope is looking down on me proud of what has been achieved. She will always hold a piece of my heart.
Cancer never goes away from you. As I sit here thinking about what her life might have been like, I think how fortunate I am to be given another chance with mine. This is partly why I want to make a difference. Cancer has weakened me in many ways physically and mentally, but it has given me and new strength and direction in life. I wear my scars proudly, a battle won. I hope like Margaret was inspirational for me, I can inspire someone else in their dark places that cancer takes them.
My challenges to celebrate my 2 major landmarks are almost at the end. This week I visited our local cubs and scouts to talk to them a little bit about my cancer and the charity that has helped me throughout. They will be embarking on their sponsored swim in little over a week's time, hopefully generating a little more money for the charity, but also gaining a better understanding about how a local charity works near them.
The support I've had as be amazing throughout the last few months. It really will have made a difference to people's lives with cancer.
Margaret I hope is looking down on me proud of what has been achieved. She will always hold a piece of my heart.
https://www.justgiving.com/Louisevernon4040/
Wednesday, 16 September 2015
4 years cancer free!
This day 4 years ago was one of many on my emotional roller coaster. The day started off with a hymn at a school mass which I'll share with you. Put this into perspective. After mass I'm heading off to have my very last radiotherapy session after a grueling almost 10 months of treatment. As you can imagine there were floods of tears!! It gets me every time I sing or hear it.
Today I sit here, 4 years on, relatively fit and healthy. I walked to and from work. The sun came out on the way home. I then spent 3 hours at the Centre for a volunteers meeting. I have a job that is rewarding, I do a bit of voluntary work where I can which makes having had cancer worth something. I have 2 beautiful children, wonderful family and friends, and a husband that isn't too bad either!
The greatest day in history
Death is beaten, You have rescued me
Sing it out, Jesus is alive
Death is beaten, You have rescued me
Sing it out, Jesus is alive
The empty cross, the empty grave
Life eternal, You have won the day
Shout it out, Jesus is alive
He's alive
Life eternal, You have won the day
Shout it out, Jesus is alive
He's alive
Oh, happy day, happy day
You washed my sin away
Oh, happy day, happy day
I'll never be the same
Forever I am changed
You washed my sin away
Oh, happy day, happy day
I'll never be the same
Forever I am changed
When I stand in that place
Free at last, meeting face to face
I am yours, Jesus, You are mine
Free at last, meeting face to face
I am yours, Jesus, You are mine
Endless joy, perfect peace
Earthly pain finally will cease
Celebrate, Jesus is alive
He's alive
Earthly pain finally will cease
Celebrate, Jesus is alive
He's alive
Oh, happy day, happy day
You washed my sin away
Oh, happy day, happy day
I'll never be the same
Forever I am changed
You washed my sin away
Oh, happy day, happy day
I'll never be the same
Forever I am changed
Oh, what a glorious day
What a glorious way
That You have saved me
Oh, what a glorious day
What a glorious name
What a glorious way
That You have saved me
Oh, what a glorious day
What a glorious name
Oh, happy day, happy day
You washed my sin away
Oh, happy day, happy day
I'll never be the same
Forever I am changed
You washed my sin away
Oh, happy day, happy day
I'll never be the same
Forever I am changed
Songwriters
Timothy David Hughes;Ben Cantelon
Timothy David Hughes;Ben Cantelon
Today is definitely a happy day, and things have changed dramatically in my life, but I wouldn't change them. I am forever changed.
Then
Now
Wednesday, 19 August 2015
The home straight and memories of Christmas with cancer
Books and games now completed! Prince Caspian finished off the 40 with The Wizard of Oz and The Wolves of Willoughby Chase also read this week. A final mad Lego board game afternoon has seen the 40 family games chalked off too.
All that remains is for this blog to be completed, which I will continue right up until my birthday, (lucky you!) a scouts sponsored swim, which I have to go in and promote the charity so they can organise it as part of their badge work, plus help out with them counting out lengths on the night. Finally (although now not officially a challenge) I will be holding a party / get together for as many people as I can possibly fit in the centre who'd like to come who've been involved in some way or another with my challenges.
I want to make sure that it the coming few weeks I share with you some more of my experiences of living with cancer, party as a reminder to me, but in the hope it might help others too.
I hope to show not just the serious side, but the funny side of cancer too! (There really is you know!)
Firstly some pictures dug out of Christmas Day whilst on treatment.
On the first you can see how terrible I looked (I actually was worse than the photo suggests!)
I sat there on Christmas Eve full of cold with a temperature. For most people this isn't a problem, but if you are on chemo you're supposed to go into A+E with a temperature because of infection risk with low blood counts. There was no way however was I going to let my two little kids wake up on Christmas morning to no mum, so I just hoped and prayed that I'd be OK.
As you can see, although unwell, I made good use of all the winter woollies I'd been given to get me through the winter, modelling them all at the same time.
Fortunately for me the temperature didn't get any worse, but by the time I went to get my checkup in clinic between Christmas and New Year for my next round of chemo, I was given antibiotics and my chemo was delayed. The down side to this was I wasn't going anywhere for New Year. The upside was I got to spend it with my family, not suffering the after effects of chemo to see in the New Year!
All that remains is for this blog to be completed, which I will continue right up until my birthday, (lucky you!) a scouts sponsored swim, which I have to go in and promote the charity so they can organise it as part of their badge work, plus help out with them counting out lengths on the night. Finally (although now not officially a challenge) I will be holding a party / get together for as many people as I can possibly fit in the centre who'd like to come who've been involved in some way or another with my challenges.
I want to make sure that it the coming few weeks I share with you some more of my experiences of living with cancer, party as a reminder to me, but in the hope it might help others too.
I hope to show not just the serious side, but the funny side of cancer too! (There really is you know!)
Firstly some pictures dug out of Christmas Day whilst on treatment.
On the first you can see how terrible I looked (I actually was worse than the photo suggests!)
I sat there on Christmas Eve full of cold with a temperature. For most people this isn't a problem, but if you are on chemo you're supposed to go into A+E with a temperature because of infection risk with low blood counts. There was no way however was I going to let my two little kids wake up on Christmas morning to no mum, so I just hoped and prayed that I'd be OK.
As you can see, although unwell, I made good use of all the winter woollies I'd been given to get me through the winter, modelling them all at the same time.
Fortunately for me the temperature didn't get any worse, but by the time I went to get my checkup in clinic between Christmas and New Year for my next round of chemo, I was given antibiotics and my chemo was delayed. The down side to this was I wasn't going anywhere for New Year. The upside was I got to spend it with my family, not suffering the after effects of chemo to see in the New Year!
As you can see, party hats look so much better on a bald head! We got through until New Year without any further illness, and I had my chemo a week later. We also made the most of a New Year's Eve together just the four of us.
Cancer threw some horrible stuff at us as a family, but we got through it. This is why each birthday and Christmas is even more special to me now.
https://www.justgiving.com/Louisevernon4040/
Sunday, 16 August 2015
The end is in sight
As many of my challenges near their conclusion the end is in sight, and an amazing £1270 has been raised along the way to date.
The cycling 40 miles was done in 5 days and only now almost 2 weeks later am I thinking of going near my bike again.
Last week we had a mammoth film fest to get them all completed, the final one being Antman which we went to see at the cinema along with my parents too.
Much of last week I've had my nose stuck in a book finishing Frankenstein and Far from a madding crowd, both requiring immense concentration to follow the language. I now recall why I didn't go any further than GCSE English. I've just got to find 3 more now that I haven't already read. I scoured the library the other day and have been in second hand book shops to no further avail so far. Hopefully I'll have better luck this week.
Board games and card games are slowly being plowed through, last night after reading through the rules a handful of times we tackled Backgammon. Not convinced we played it properly. It took us 10 minutes and at no point did we block each other's counters. We might need to research tactics! There's 6 more left to go now, so currently working through the huge number of Lego board games we have in our house. At least these are no so taxing.
Party invites have been issued to many of the people involved, so the end is really drawing close. I'm not quite sure what I'll do with all my free time afterwards!! I'm sure more volunteering and different types of fundraising will be on the cards. It's going to be pretty hard to top this one though.
As I get down to my last few blog entries I might need you all to get sharing to get me some readers like I did with my first few entries, that had well over 100 views (340 on the very first one)! Thank you for sticking with me to the end.
When I was ill I had contemplated writing a book / journal of what I was going through. I never did get around to it, perhaps if blogging had been as popular and accessible then I might have. I only got myself setup on Facebook when I was ill. I have to say it kept me in touch with the world and helped me get through many hours where I wasn't really well enough to do anything else. Time makes you forget some of what you went through, which is why I sometimes look back and think a journal might have been good. I wouldn't want it to feel sorry for myself, more as a reminder of how far I've actually come. Little things do pop back into my head now and again. I remember little bits about the fatigue, and how I would try and go for a walk, sometimes just walking to the next street corner and back would actually be a real struggle. There would be other times where my mum would do the school run, and I'd sit in the car just so I could get outside. I was too tired to walk the short distance to the school playground and back. It was also the coldest winter for years, great when you're semi bald. I used to go out with 2 hats on, and even sleep in one occasionally.
I often go to support groups and chat to people, each of us has our own little story, with our trials and memories. Perhaps that might make an interesting read sometime. Not everything was doom and gloom though. I recall trying to get into school in a bit of a panic to speak to my son's teacher to explain how we'd been throwing my boob around the room and he'd been holding it that morning (to explain what a prosthesis is). This could have been a potentially awkward conversation that she might have had to have with a 6 year old when taken out of context. I dare not imagine what he might have said.
My parents were mortified having got me a new electric razor for my birthday, only a couple of weeks later for my hair to start falling out. I found this hilarious! We also found a great use for my old bras when the snow came and the children made snow ladies! (I add only in the back garden!)
Sitting in oncology they always used to have radio 2 on. I still remember the irony of listening to Gloria Gaynor - "I will survive" when I'd just received some bad news about my chemo not working. I also changed my ringtone on my phone to "Radioactive" by the Kings of Leon when I was trundling backwards and forwards to radiotherapy for 3 weeks. People were always worried at offending me. A friend had posted something on Facebook to me about pulling her hair out. I remember her being horrified where as I was crying with laughter. You definitely get a warped sense of humour when going through treatment.
That's probably enough ramblings for one morning. I did say I wanted more people to read this!! Enjoy your day and think of something positive!
The cycling 40 miles was done in 5 days and only now almost 2 weeks later am I thinking of going near my bike again.
Last week we had a mammoth film fest to get them all completed, the final one being Antman which we went to see at the cinema along with my parents too.
Much of last week I've had my nose stuck in a book finishing Frankenstein and Far from a madding crowd, both requiring immense concentration to follow the language. I now recall why I didn't go any further than GCSE English. I've just got to find 3 more now that I haven't already read. I scoured the library the other day and have been in second hand book shops to no further avail so far. Hopefully I'll have better luck this week.
Board games and card games are slowly being plowed through, last night after reading through the rules a handful of times we tackled Backgammon. Not convinced we played it properly. It took us 10 minutes and at no point did we block each other's counters. We might need to research tactics! There's 6 more left to go now, so currently working through the huge number of Lego board games we have in our house. At least these are no so taxing.
Party invites have been issued to many of the people involved, so the end is really drawing close. I'm not quite sure what I'll do with all my free time afterwards!! I'm sure more volunteering and different types of fundraising will be on the cards. It's going to be pretty hard to top this one though.
As I get down to my last few blog entries I might need you all to get sharing to get me some readers like I did with my first few entries, that had well over 100 views (340 on the very first one)! Thank you for sticking with me to the end.
When I was ill I had contemplated writing a book / journal of what I was going through. I never did get around to it, perhaps if blogging had been as popular and accessible then I might have. I only got myself setup on Facebook when I was ill. I have to say it kept me in touch with the world and helped me get through many hours where I wasn't really well enough to do anything else. Time makes you forget some of what you went through, which is why I sometimes look back and think a journal might have been good. I wouldn't want it to feel sorry for myself, more as a reminder of how far I've actually come. Little things do pop back into my head now and again. I remember little bits about the fatigue, and how I would try and go for a walk, sometimes just walking to the next street corner and back would actually be a real struggle. There would be other times where my mum would do the school run, and I'd sit in the car just so I could get outside. I was too tired to walk the short distance to the school playground and back. It was also the coldest winter for years, great when you're semi bald. I used to go out with 2 hats on, and even sleep in one occasionally.
I often go to support groups and chat to people, each of us has our own little story, with our trials and memories. Perhaps that might make an interesting read sometime. Not everything was doom and gloom though. I recall trying to get into school in a bit of a panic to speak to my son's teacher to explain how we'd been throwing my boob around the room and he'd been holding it that morning (to explain what a prosthesis is). This could have been a potentially awkward conversation that she might have had to have with a 6 year old when taken out of context. I dare not imagine what he might have said.
My parents were mortified having got me a new electric razor for my birthday, only a couple of weeks later for my hair to start falling out. I found this hilarious! We also found a great use for my old bras when the snow came and the children made snow ladies! (I add only in the back garden!)
Sitting in oncology they always used to have radio 2 on. I still remember the irony of listening to Gloria Gaynor - "I will survive" when I'd just received some bad news about my chemo not working. I also changed my ringtone on my phone to "Radioactive" by the Kings of Leon when I was trundling backwards and forwards to radiotherapy for 3 weeks. People were always worried at offending me. A friend had posted something on Facebook to me about pulling her hair out. I remember her being horrified where as I was crying with laughter. You definitely get a warped sense of humour when going through treatment.
That's probably enough ramblings for one morning. I did say I wanted more people to read this!! Enjoy your day and think of something positive!
Tuesday, 4 August 2015
Just 6 left to complete
The end is in sight!
Just 6 more challenges left to complete, one of those being this blog that you have been reading throughout so just 5 more really!
Today and yesterday I spent time being a real couch potato finding online the rest of the computer games I played in my youth and young adulthood. For those who do not know me as well I've always been a bit for a computer nerd, (but only just!) I started at a young age with the grandstand tennis as anyone who is around the 40 mark will remember clearly. I've recently seen one up and running in a museum!! I then moved onto various consoles including the Atari 2600 where Sky Skipper was my favourite. Check it out if you dare. In my teens I had an Amiga 500 with my first window based operating system, (none nerds now asleep) before moving onto Windows or DOS games on my first 486 and then the Playstation. The 40 games were a real mixed bag from all of these, and don't you notice the graphics when playing them on modern PCs and even phones!!
I've not just been a couch potato though, since Saturday I've been busy cycling, 40 miles in a week. Not that much some of you may be thinking, but for me who cycles no more than 5 or 6 miles a week, this has been pretty taxing to get on my bike every day. All being well I'm actually hoping to finish in 5 days, assuming I get to Kingsbury Water Park and back in one piece tomorrow!!
So what's left you might be thinking. I've got a handful of books and films to finish off. They might get finished of the summer holidays if I'm lucky, and get off my laptop. I've got an absolute mound of board games to get cracking on with the kids, so that should keep me pretty busy too. I'm then helping to organise a Scout's sponsored swim, well at least go and talk to the kids, and get them to get sponsorship in early October.
A get together is planned in October at the centre to celebrate what has been achieved, and hopefully tie up anything left in the few remaining weeks of being 39!
I'll have to make sure I finish my blog leading up to my cancerversary which I've now worked out is the 3rd November when checking through my original consultation notes. Time was a blur in the weeks leading up to diagnosis, so I never really remembered the exact date of being officially being told I had cancer. Four days later I hit 40 a wonderful feeling to still be here to be able to say that.
I am thankful for being alive, and for all the opportunities I've had since cancer.
I'm also tremendously thankful for all the people who surround and support me every day.
Just 6 more challenges left to complete, one of those being this blog that you have been reading throughout so just 5 more really!
Today and yesterday I spent time being a real couch potato finding online the rest of the computer games I played in my youth and young adulthood. For those who do not know me as well I've always been a bit for a computer nerd, (but only just!) I started at a young age with the grandstand tennis as anyone who is around the 40 mark will remember clearly. I've recently seen one up and running in a museum!! I then moved onto various consoles including the Atari 2600 where Sky Skipper was my favourite. Check it out if you dare. In my teens I had an Amiga 500 with my first window based operating system, (none nerds now asleep) before moving onto Windows or DOS games on my first 486 and then the Playstation. The 40 games were a real mixed bag from all of these, and don't you notice the graphics when playing them on modern PCs and even phones!!
I've not just been a couch potato though, since Saturday I've been busy cycling, 40 miles in a week. Not that much some of you may be thinking, but for me who cycles no more than 5 or 6 miles a week, this has been pretty taxing to get on my bike every day. All being well I'm actually hoping to finish in 5 days, assuming I get to Kingsbury Water Park and back in one piece tomorrow!!
So what's left you might be thinking. I've got a handful of books and films to finish off. They might get finished of the summer holidays if I'm lucky, and get off my laptop. I've got an absolute mound of board games to get cracking on with the kids, so that should keep me pretty busy too. I'm then helping to organise a Scout's sponsored swim, well at least go and talk to the kids, and get them to get sponsorship in early October.
A get together is planned in October at the centre to celebrate what has been achieved, and hopefully tie up anything left in the few remaining weeks of being 39!
I'll have to make sure I finish my blog leading up to my cancerversary which I've now worked out is the 3rd November when checking through my original consultation notes. Time was a blur in the weeks leading up to diagnosis, so I never really remembered the exact date of being officially being told I had cancer. Four days later I hit 40 a wonderful feeling to still be here to be able to say that.
I am thankful for being alive, and for all the opportunities I've had since cancer.
I'm also tremendously thankful for all the people who surround and support me every day.
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