A year on from a brain tumour diagnosis, I reflect on having a big cancerous melon for a heed.
One year in
Don’t count your chickens
At the first chemo appointment, the nurse had told me to keep a note of any side effects each day. Once the puking episode was sorted, there weren't really any side effects to note down for the rest of the first cycle, so I started writing down daft stuff like 'steam is more visible' (as... Continue Reading →
Maggie Macmillan
I'm writing this while a third of the way in to 30 sessions of radiotherapy, and the side effects of getting a high strength blast of x-rays to the brain every day are starting to kick in. Please bear with me if it's a bit rambling and it takes a while to get new posts... Continue Reading →
Results day
As the biopsy results appointment drew near, things did not get any easier. I know several people with brain tumours. From close friends to friends of friends I've never actually met, each have different tumours and outcomes. Some good and some very bad. Because of our similar deficit, the one who played most on my... Continue Reading →
The hard wait
The first few days back at home were easy. It still hadn't really occurred to me to worry too much about the biopsy results. The biopsy itself had been the hurdle, and had been cleared. My sister in law came to visit for a few days with her toddler son. It was a lovely distraction... Continue Reading →
I bring you love
A few seconds in to a dream, Steve the recovery nurse brought me round from the anaesthetic. Bald on the top, with silver hair at the sides, and fairly rotund, Steve was the most beautiful and wonderful man I have ever met, bar my husband. He asked how I was. "BRILLIANT! I'M ALIVE!" I shrieked... Continue Reading →
Gathering pace
On the morning of the appointment with the Neurosurgeon, we dropped the kids off with my ever helpful parents, and drove to the clinic in silence. What was there to say? I was bricking it and couldn't think straight enough for chatting. We arrived early and booked in. A TV in the waiting room was... Continue Reading →
Aftermath I
A makes me promise I wouldn't Google brain tumours. Dr Google is renowned for his shit bedside manner and extreme preference for worst case scenarios, so just this once, I'm happy to do what I'm told. The first thing I do Google is the stages of acceptance. No idea why though. The five stages we generally... Continue Reading →
Crouching doctor, hidden tumour
A porter arrived to take me for the MRI early on Monday morning, before the scheduled appointments started. Several of the ceiling panels in the neuro-imaging waiting area have been replaced with backlit pictures of meadows and flowers, which is a pretty, nice touch for people being wheeled in and out. Perhaps not *quite* as... Continue Reading →
Not today, Satan. Not today. 