Chemo killed the radio start!

Wow, I've been absolutely blown away this week by the reaction to my last blog. To be honest, I was reluctant to post it at the time as it felt rather negative. But I'd promised to be real on this journey so posted it was! Thank-you so much to everyone who  responded with such kindness and humour.

Following my Oncology appointment I received an appointment through really quickly to go for my pre-Radiotherapy planning assessment. I accept the need for a gap in between chemotherapy and radiotherapy. But it was good to know planning was going to start so at least I'd be in the system and there would be no unnecessary delays. I also accept that the bigger picture is that my treatment will continue for the rest of this year and beyond. Herceptin injections every 3 weeks up to October, and moving forward, 6-monthly injections to strengthen my bones and oral medication for up to ten years. I accept all that. In fact I'm grateful for every part of it and the excellent treatment I've received throughout. So I'm not being impatient. I just want to do all I can to get the daily Radiotherapy regime started so it can be over and I can start to get into a recovery rather than a treatment routine. So it was a disappointment when the radio folks phoned to cancel my appointment just as I was setting off. Though the new appointment should still allow treatment to begin soon.

The insights from the long wait for my Oncology appointment have been powerful and I've been able to make sense of some deep rooted core values stuff. I've not disappeared up my own backside to seek out my inner child and feed it Dolly Mixtures, but I've certainly got a far better understanding of some of the stuff that came up for me and where it came from. This has given me the opportunity not only to deal with some stuff but also to celebrate and be grateful for my values and those who helped me develop them.

One of the things that effected me most about my date with Godot last week was the injustice of someone jumping the queue because they shouted the loudest. This led me to look at the bigger picture of injustice and I realise its been something I've been passionate about all my life. The first occasion where I experienced what I felt to be injustice was when I was 4 years old. I attended a Play Group in St.Helens and when it came to Easter time we were all given a little bag of sweets. Girls were given pink bags and boys blue. I wanted a blue bag and couldn't understand why this was not allowed because I didn't have a penis. Of course I rebelled and refused to take the pink chocolates.

Then there were Craft lessons at school as a 7 year old. All of a sudden children were segregated with girls doing sewing while boys made little boats out of balsa wood. My little brain failed to see why my gender necessitated that I had to sit doing cross stitch instead of the far more exciting sawing, gluing and painting of woodwork.  I remember being made to sit outside that junior classroom doing sums because I refused to sew. Then when I eventually relented and picked up the needle, I rebelliously made a rather lovely little mat with a footballer and the words 'Man United' sewn into the centre.

Next came my football ban! At 10 years of age I played for the local village team. My short hair disguised my gender and all was well until I scored a goal in Clock Face Junior's epic 5-1 victory over Chiltern Rovers. My name went on the score sheet and lots of FA chaps in blazers got very cross. Yes the story made the national papers "Goal girl booted out to save the blushes!" The blazored chaps argued that there were no separate changing rooms for girls so I was not allowed to continue playing on the grounds of modesty. But what a load of bollox that was- there were no changing rooms at all- we all wore trackies over our kits and took them off on the touch line! I can still feel the sensations of helplessness when I think about that now even though it happened 48 years ago!

So how have these early experiences impacted on my later life? Well for sure I hate injustice in all forms- with a passion! I was very fortunate to do my teacher training at S.Martin's College in the heady 80s days of Peace Studies and non-oppressive practice. This equipped me with a vocabulary and rationale to tackle needless gender division. There was no need for my classes to be divided into boys and girls lists on the register- so they weren't. There was no need for girls to have pink records files and boys blue. Initially I used yellow and green before getting rid of the different colours altogether. And as for football, I spent many years as Chair of the North West Womens' Regional Football League and became the first Chair of the National Women's Football Alliance. I fought many battles with the blazers- and can't think of one I lost! I bid farewell to the beautiful game once girls and boys could play alongside each other at Primary school and once the FA were forced (screaming and kicking in some cases) to takes responsibility for the further development of the women's game. Yes, there was a rather disconcerting phase were ponytails became as compulsory as shin pads. But hopefully, they were the death throes of misogyny!

So, I think its fair to say that there were gifts in my early experiences of injustice in that they motivated me to make a difference. I knew at an early age that merely complaining doesn't change anything. Accepting that injustice exists and taking action is what counts (whether that be refusing the pink bag of sweets or working at strategic level to change policies and practices). This brought me back once again to question why I didn't speak out and up during my protracted wait in Oncology. Once again, backward looking regret gave way to a forward looking commitment to behave differently in the future. In any situation, we have three potential means of change available to us. Sometimes we can change our thoughts. Sometimes we can change our feelings. And sometimes we just have to do something different- do ANYTHING different!

So all in all, I'm grateful for the experience I had as it has served as a reminder of so much!

Well look at me galloping through my blog without so much as a mention of cannulas, chemicals or ginger biscuits!

The week up to treatment 11 had its ups and downs. I didn't feel too good physically. Symptoms that I'd just dismiss normally had to be taken seriously and I called the chemo support folks for advice. Plenty of fluids, stay in bed and rest and check my temperature regularly. Fortunately it was just a bit of viral nastiness and I was fine in a few days time. And, most importantly, it didn't prevent me having treatment 11.

Perhaps the best medicine of all was an afternoon at the Beacon Of Light group at The Hub. It was so good just to be around such positive folks and the healing powers of Janet's cake made with real love just can't be underestimated!  Sharing, chatting, kindness, just Being! For me it felt like being wrapped up in a big furry blanket of love and care. And after a few days of feeling sorry for myself my positivity was restored!

It was during this week that I had to go for an Echocardiogram as one of the side-effects of my treatment can be damage to the heart. I have to say the Cardiology Department at Blackburn Hospital runs like clockwork. There is a sign up on the wall telling those waiting to inform reception if they've been there for more than 15 minutes. 'Yeah rite' Said I! But sure enough, just a few short minutes after checking in, I was collected and takes down to one of the ECG rooms. The procedure was thorough and professional and less than 40 minutes after parking up, we were back in the car. It would have been even quicker had I not gone back to see the reception staff to tell them how awesome they were!

We decided to go for a ride over to Lytham and it     
was good to be out and about in the fresh air for a
while- and treat ourselves to tea out.







The following day I was over at Burnley for an early blood test before a few hours at The Hub starting a new Reiki course with some lovely folks. And it was another chance to catch up with Hubbits I'd not seen for a while, especially our head gardener who has filled the place with the most beautifully fragrant Hyacinths.




It was a glorious, crisp winters morning when we set off for Burnley for my penultimate chemo treatment. The Sun was still low in the sky and peeping through the trees at the side of the house. We had our usual fun and games on the journey. I'm not sure how the chemo songs came about but Chris's rendition of 'Chemo Flow' to the tune of 'Orinoco Flow' would have brought a tear to the eye of the toughest Womble- not to mention Enya! No cannula issues whatsoever and a nice, relaxed treatment as there were very few other folks in the unit.

After my treatment I went to The Sanctuary for a Crystal Bed treatment and fell into a deep sleep. As I made my way to the door afterwards, something made me decide to go through the café rather than the front door and this led to a synchronicitous meeting with a lovely lady I've not seen for a while. Definitely a conversation we were meant to have. I love it when stuff like that happens! It was good to pause awhile by the snow drops on the Sanctuary lawn planted to remember a dear friend who I think of often. Her wisdom would have been greatly welcomed these last three months-  though sometimes I know exactly what she'd have said! Then home under blue skies to that same view as the morning with the almost full moon peeping through the stark branches.

As many other days have ended along this journey, I very soon found myself snuggled up by the fire with Nurse Nessidog who somehow makes me smile whatever is going on!





So- a week of insights. Plenty of time to 'go within' and in the midst of anything external I'm finding myself spending more and more time in that beautiful still point at the end of the in-breath. Just one chemotherapy treatment left- and how quickly these three months have passed by in many ways. Onwards and upwards and chocks away towards Radiotherapy!

Liz x