With tonight being Halloween a blog about the Teenage Cancer Trust may not seem to be as topical as you may want to be reading. Halloween is the night of tricks and treats, frights, spooks, gory make up and if you’re unlucky enough a dosing of flour and eggs.
I didn’t want to talk topically about fear, frights shock or horror because we all know tha cancer is full of that without me boring you with a blog about it. I guess most of you know or can imagine the gut wrenching awfulness that comes with a cancer diagnosis as a teen, so why draw it out. Instead this blog is about some people I love, the people who make it all ‘ok’ (as ok as it can get) These are the people who as a Halloween-o-phobe you open the door to expecting a ghoul and find a fairy princess there.
So who are these people? Well if you’ve read the top, they are the Teenage Cancer Trust, a charity that before a personal connection most people probably hadn’t heard of before this year, and a charity that deserves much more attention than they get. A charity who I just described as the Fairy Princess of a teenage cancer diagnosis.
If you have no previous connection to Teenage Cancer Trust and don’t really know who they are, or what they do, you will be blown away. By building wards for cancer patients they give the opportunity for teenage patients to be in their natural place- with other teens and young people, even when they’re having treatment. It allows them to have space, watch TV and have some of the choices you would have in your own home. It allows young people, like me to be in their own, with their own and not with the babies or the grannies.
And why do I love them? Concisely put, they made the difference between hope and defeat in the face of my own diagnosis nearly a year ago. They made the difference between being with other teens, and being with 80 year old women telling me about how you I am. They made the difference between normal conversation and well meant pity and grandchild chatting. I firmly feel that an ordinary ward has a much more pessimistic feel than any TCT ward, with big colourful sofas and random light up jukeboxes.
I love what they do so much, I love what they stand for and I love Roger Daultrey. I love the ethos that a hospital ward shouldn’t have to look like a hospital ward. I love that you can have friends to visit. I love that when they do visit you don’t have to be huddled around a hospital bed, that you can play (I tried!) pool, watch films or just chat.
The difference it makes, to be around others your own age, for them to also be bald, lugging around drip stands and have a complete understanding everything that is happening is completely priceless. I do think it is the friends from the TCT ward that I made that got me through treatment.
My diagnosis was an extremely confusing time. Having my consultant be able to say ‘let me take you to the ward, it’s where you’ll be looked after’ and even with a quick off-the-cuff visit to be able to speak to some nurses, the ward manager, and day doctor is incredibly reassuring. My mum often says that she saw a light when we got to that ward, that she thought everything would be alright after arriving there. She takes pleasure in describing the Cardiff ward, the Skypad as looking like a penthouse youth club. To be fair to my mum, that’s exactly what it looks like.
If you haven’t quite got it already, the Teenage Cancer Trust are more than just people who build wards, and they are much more than a name of a collecting tin, the name of something ‘which would never happen to me’. Teenage Cancer Trust means you are supported, so that when you’re ill on Christmas morning, there’s a nurse dance around your bed. The teenage cancer trust means that when all you want is duck pancakes, your mum can cook some in a microwave for you. The Teenage Cancer Trust means that when your brother visits you, he can watch TV with you, and it isn’t a case of ‘let’s stare at Emily for the next hour’. It meant that I have made amazing friends. I meant while I was sleeping, my mum had other mums to sit and eat breakfast with. It meant everything really. Everything and so much more because I am here to tell the world of my love for this charity. Hey deserve every penny they get because that penny will go towards providing lifesaving treatment to someone like me.
Everything they do may seem simple, grouping teens together for chemo, but it is so so much more than a room to have treatment in. A place for treatment, but also a place to try and live, when your life isn’t yours to be lived, but tucked away in a box.
I love Teenage Cancer Trust, because they are there for you wholeheartedly in a time of need that you never thought imaginable.
If you want to see some more pictures of the teenage cancer trust ward yourself, (the above are from Cardiff) or find out more about the awesome stuff they do, check out www.teenagecancertrust.org
Hope you liked this blog, enjoy the rest of this spooktacular night!
Keep smiling (and trick or treating!)🎃
6 months in Remission!
So as of Friday I was officially 6 months cancer free!
Amazing how time flies right?
This also means that RemissionPossible is now a lovely six months old!
Remission, cancer-freeness is quite simply amazing, and I really think that it is something that unless you have experienced a similar situation yourself you can’t imagine what the feeling that is associate with remission. I love the word and all that it means. I really don’t think anything makes me happier than hearing of other people’s successes and having my own success, carrying on each day.
Of course I’m not thankful for the cancer, but to be still alive, kicking and causing havoc- I am so so so grateful, and I love the position I am now in, with the opportunity to help others. Read the rest of this entry
I love the NHS.
I love the NHS, that’s right, I love it. I am so relieved to get that off’ve my chest, you all now know my-not-so-secret love, deeper than the oceans and wider than space.
NHS. Three letters, or three words. National Health Service. Such romantic words, so originally named.
Of course I’m not having a romantic relationship with a public tax funded, government designed, political minefield of a health system, but I often feel like I might as well be. I’ll say it one more time- I love the NHS.
But, WHY do I love the NHS so much?
Well the answer is obvious- it saved my life and it will have almost undoubtedly helped you at some point or another (we were all born once remember!) The NHS is a lifesaver, and I owe everything to it.
Read the rest of this entry
So, hair loss. Fun topic eh?
However not fun, or exciting it is, it really is something I’ve felt the need to write about for a while now, and I’ve only recently felt totally in the right place to do so.
Hair loss, it’s something that I’ve been through, and so have countless other men women and children in their treatment of chemo, and sometimes Radiotherapy. Of course some other illnesses also see it occur.
As a scientific explanation for the seemingly baffling side effect of hair loss-
“Hair loss occurs because chemotherapy targets all rapidly dividing cells—healthy cells as well as cancer cells. Hair follicles, the structures in the skin filled with tiny blood vessels that make hair, are some of the fastest-growing cells in the body. If you’re not in cancer treatment, your hair follicles divide every 23 to 72 hours.”
The thing is, during chemotherapy, these cell don’t divide. Meaning the hair follicles haven’t got the cells required to stick the hair ‘in’. So, voila! Out it comes. Perhaps that’s a bit blunt. I do know the VERY scientific reason your hair follicle (and cancer) cells stop rapidly dividing. It’s because the cells spindle fibers are restricted. (I learnt that while dong my biology exam!)
Read the rest of this entry