High Five.

7 Apr

Look at this http://high-fiver.tumblr.com/

You all know Mike – he is the main designer behind TKOE and he created this website to make everyone feel good about themselves. Need an uplift? Then just go over there and high five. Want to make other people feel good? Then go over there and submit your own! 🙂

I really have missed writing on here. I missed our community. I missed you. Mum told me all about all your comments everyday and it was really lovely, so thank you :).

Also, Deb has written a comment telling you to donate blood. So go, go donate! I have had 14 different people save my life by giving blood. Don’t you dare go say you’re scared of needles..Not an excuse and I would have absolutely no sympathy for you. Go sign up. http://www.blood.co.uk/

I will post my entry..but you have probably all the content before because it’s previous posts cut together:

I’ll tell you what it’s like to have cancer..


It’s like having a part time job which is actually full time. It takes away your freedom, you can’t book anything more than 3 weeks in advance due to hospital appointments etc. It feels like its not really you..Not really in your life..Not a part of you, unless you ask at particularly sensitive parts of the evening or certain days of the month. It’s something that you don’t like to mix with your regular group of friends, yet you can’t help telling total strangers about. It’s agonising not being able to see the actual effect it has on your insides, and the cancer knows more about them than you do.. It’s a total evil,  highlighting how weak you are.  Every time you can’t do something, because of your body’s limitations, you feel so small..and helpless. It’s even worse seeing the people you love want to help you when they can’t. You have to put the whole trust of your life in the hands of someone who you only meet in a ‘business’ environment..When the people who are meant to make everything better just ‘don’t know what to say’..It normally starts with ‘I’m sorry’, but what are they sorry for?? It’s okay..I know there’s nothing else to say. The anticipation of having treatment is like an exam you haven’t revised for..Playing at the back of your mind, like a bad dream where you go to school naked. It’s something that’s meant to make you better but all the physically obvious effects say otherwise.

There’s nothing you’ve held onto more than the belief that ‘it always gets worse before it gets better’.


MRI scan.. Fairly routine I guess –
You take all your clothes off and put on this fairly grotesque gown, which I am sure they could have made nicer..But I suppose then everyone would be stealing them. Make sure you remove every single piece of metal from your body or else the machine blows up..or something. That could be a horrible murder couldn’t it; someone could plant a metal clip somewhere on your body without you knowing – mental possibilities. You stand there in a hospital gown with your grey Topshop socks on and pink pvc Converse, ha; fashion.
Then you go through all the doors marked danger..there’s this one door, leading into the room, and it’s like 5 inches thick……. You’re going through this 5 inch thick lead door, yet all you have on is this flimsy gown.  I swear at that point you should ask more questions.
You get headphones and an emergency buzzer, they plug you into the contrast and then they leave.
The actual scan itself lasts about 30/40 minutes and you have to lie still and hold your breath for a series of 20 second intervals. Once you’ve been told to keep still, there is nothing you want more than to itch or twitch and your legs start feeling uncomfortable. The contrast makes you feel weird so that you can’t tell if you’re breathing or not and it feels as though your eyes have rolled into your head and you’re seeing your own mind. The ‘zapping’ noises sound as though they are piercing every limb to the table and your body starts to get heavy as the drugs trick your head. Actually ‘zapping’ doesn’t really describe them..It’s more like a dial up internet connection. All sorts of things whizzing through your body and you can’t feel a thing! Like sitting in a speaker with lots of feedback.
After all that you get changed and sent away – no cheeky peek at your insides.

It never actually feels like you’re ill –
Despite all that is and what has happened – operations/scans/doctor’s appointments/pills – you don’t actually feel like you’re ill at all! The only time you really feel it is if you start thinking or you catch a glimpse of short hair in the mirror. Short hair, I suppose, is a trademark of cancer isn’t it..??
Pills are another story – just the sheer amount of drugs you have to remember to take and everything has to be scheduled around them; food has to be at a particular time, you have to be awake at a particular time. You take one a little late and it throws the whole routine out of whack.
Plus, imagine what it’s like if you don’t like swallowing those enormous capsules..Your heart starts going, your throat is constricting and sweaty palms become a problem. Of course it’s going to get stuck and you’ll choke and then die..well..maybe. It helps to have someone who will do some insane act, like eat extra strong mints, at the same time so that they can go through the unpleasantness with you. That’s one of the big factors of cancer – you feel like it is literally just you who has to struggle with all the pills and appointments etc. You feel very on the spot, as though you have just walked into someone you were trying to avoid. It’s incredibly lonely being in a hospital environment, although you know that everyone there is trying to make you better and actually wants to make you better.
The plain walls just accentuate how there is nothing to say..
Its weird how you think about everything you do and how it all seems much more important – Every sign of affection feels more real and every mistake harder to take.
You feel as though there are standards you need to live up to to make your life feel accomplished now that there is a ticking clock over your head….Even though you know that you are far too young to have achieved anything yet.
Maybe there will be a day when someone tells you that it was all a cruel joke..


Hospital update –
Went into hospital on Wednesday, had operation on Thursday. Went well apparently but my uncomfortable nights speak for themselves. I have three new ‘wounds’ about an inch long on my side and one on my back..keyhole, allegedly.

I feel quite mislead really; I was under the impression that I could walk out the same evening AND go onto work at 7pm, have to say quite the opposite really. I was starved, drawn on, knifed..but, I suppose, all that can be excused for the enjoyment of having the toilet brought to my bedside. Highly recommended.

It’s quite a spooky experience going into an operating theatre knowing that only a few minutes later you are going to be hacked open and inspected through a camera down your throat. I don’t think I was shivering from temperature. It was so bland and steely in there..No windows but so much light. Was also the first time I had gone down without mum and dad being there..Although I didn’t cry..No cry baby me. I did try and beat the anaesthetic..But no can do – there’s just no beating that stuff! Also, you know how on films they tell them to count down from 10? Not in any operation has that happened to me and I think it was the one thing I was looking forward to controlling, seeing as you have no idea what they are doing whilst you are asleep! I’ve watched some pretty dodgy stuff on channel 4.. Hum..Its worrying how addictive the feeling is though – awake/asleep/awake, I can’t quite describe how fast it is either..not an instant..not quite a nightful.

It feels as though we’ve moved forward, but really, in all honesty we haven’t have we? It’s just more waiting now. Toby says it’s like dangerous nothing – stressful. I hate that; the waiting. Because all the time there is still actual cancer inside me..Growing and forming etc. Strange how we can know so little about what’s inside us; just because we can’t see it..But I suppose if they gave me one of my CT scans I wouldn’t really be able to read it. What’s it meant to look like!?

Give me more morphine…Selfishly the nodules had to grow on the right hand side..That’s the side I sleep on. Hah, life ey??



7 Responses to “High Five.”

  1. celia butler April 8, 2011 at 3:21 am #

    Well – I don’t think anyone else in your category could have got close to winning against an entry like this. Such strong writing and you give the reader such a unique insight into your difficult topic. Powerful stuff that makes a real impact so you are a truly worthy winner. Yet another achievement to add to the very long list…x

  2. jill Clayton April 8, 2011 at 6:07 am #

    Overwhelming! Jill

  3. Dollydimple April 8, 2011 at 6:21 am #

    Wow, wow, wow! That is an incredibly powerful piece of writing. Such an obvious winner, you will have made the judges’ decision very easy – it was yours all the way. Have you thought about showing this to the medical staff? My son did a picture of what he thought one of the chemotherapy drugs looked like and one of the nurses took a copy for training purposes.
    On a selfish note – why are the mega long posts on a work day? I only work 2 days a week and can’t help but read your posts before I dash off to work!
    Enjoy the sunshine and have a great day.

  4. margaret crisp April 8, 2011 at 7:46 am #

    Hi Rosie, no wonder you won!! You won hands down!
    Up early again today, done village biking and about to get supper organized as we have guests! Someone stopped me in village today and remarked how I’d lost weight…worth the walk up to village pushing bike (did ride it part of way up today) just to hear that!
    Hope you’re regaining your strength, love mags.

  5. Michelle Gabriel April 8, 2011 at 7:48 am #

    Blooming brilliant

  6. Robin April 8, 2011 at 2:51 pm #

    Rosie that is incredible. When a literay genius like me says it like then youm doin somefink right blatantly innit!

    I know you didn’t write it for me but that is how I felt when reading it, it felt really personal, and that must be how the examiner/judge/s reading it felt too.

    Even forgetting the competition apsect of it, thankyou for such a deep insight into part of what you have to deal with on an all to frequent basis.

    One thing caught my attention more than everything else, ( besides the comic genius about people stealing the gowns if they dared notch them up a style notch or two ) and that was regarding having not been able to achieve anything at your age. You have, so much. Not in terms of career or qualifications maybe, but all that pales into insignificance when compared to your achievements. Far from thinking that you have achieved nothing, you should, in fact you have to, know that you have achieved and accomplished more than others do or would be able to do if given a thousand lifetimes. You have inspired people, which is far more important than bits of paper with your name on it.

    And you are still a teenager, kneee height to a grasshopper, which makes it, and you, even more remarkable.

    I think you can probably ascertain from my gushing that you’re all right by me!


  7. carol lewis April 8, 2011 at 5:59 pm #

    I think you have summed up cancer a treat. My take on cancer, evil gremlins trying to take over ones body, chemo poison, radiotherapy…easy peasy, herceptin a walk in the park but all there to give us a few more years. Hopefully to see my future grandchild grow up (due in July), my son get married even though he says he’s never getting married, my husband & I to grow old disgracefully. Cancer makes you realise what you have & that you don’t want to loose it.
    Glad you’re home Rosie

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: