The rollercoaster of maintenance

I have technically been in remission for over a year now (!!!!!!). Out the doors I went, never looked back on the cancer center, the hospital wards and more importantly, the chemotherapy. I returned for regular check up's and carried on with my, some-what ordinary life. That's what you would expect to happen when your in remission, right? I do wish it was that simple with my diagnosis.

It's funny though, I never had a moment when someone sat me down and told me I was in remission. I continued to attend my treatment appointments as usual and nurses carried on with their job. It was only when I noticed that some members of staff started to speak to me as if I knew there were no leukaemic cells left in my body that I questioned it. I can't remember the exact words that were spoken, but I was in an isolated room, most likely having a treatment complication, and I kind of took in this 'remission' topic and smiled. I didn't cry. I expected myself to, but I didn't. I don't think I was at that relief stage yet as I still had months of intense treatment left, because no matter what stage in your treatment you reach remission with leukaemia, the treatment continues. Also, that wouldn't be the end of it, as after the intense treatment I would be tackling the next hurdle, maintenance treatment.

One thousand and more rays of sunshine

"Honestly, I'm okay thank you..". 

"Come on Alex.. Anything you want, anything you've dreamed of. Why would you not want to take up this offer? 

Why I didn't want to take up the offer of a 'wish' was simple. I had browsed the rays of sunshine website and the page which showed wishes that had previously been granted, was full of sweet, and incredibly young children with big smiles showing off their brand new iPad. I wanted to sacrifice my wish to allow another child to have an iPad. 

My reminder of the day

Cancer has taught me to not get caught up in the bad moments, but to look forward to what good there is ahead of me. I will always remember the moments I just sat there and thought ..              "Shit, I actually have cancer"

but I looked ahead to the moment of relief I would feel when I would be told I was in remission.

Some problems are only temporary, they will pass.. along with the bad day that came with it. 

My letter to you

Dear Jordan

I stare at this blank space for ages, finding it hard to know where to start.

Stop & smell the roses

Today, I experienced an annoying occurrence that every female can relate too.. I got a hole in my leggings. Something so small, can bring so much frustrate. Maybe not even the fact of the hole in the leggings, but having to go out of your way to go to a shop and fork out a fiver (its criminal if plain black leggings are any more expensive) for a new pair. No matter how many pairs of leggings you own, there will never be enough. Either someones borrowed a pair, someones stolen a pair, a pair is in the washing basket or they've vanished into thin air.

This particular pair of leggings weren't your average plain pair and I was pretty fond of them. Lets just say I spent alot more than a fiver on them. To put the cherry on top, my boyfriend decided it was funny to stick his finger in the what I thought could be salvagable hole, and make it ten times worst. Thank you Lukas darling.

But this post isn't about making holes in leggings.

World Cancer Day

Together, we can do something about it.

This time last year, I posted a picture on social media which represented my on-going battle with Leukaemia. This year, I post a picture, not with the intention of making it about myself, but for the thousands of other people, whether young or not, battling this dreadful disease.

A stolen life

I had been wheeled into T12 at UCLH, placed on a ward bed and all I wanted was privacy. The curtains around me were quickly being drawn as I started to have a meltdown but I caught a quick glimpse of a face opposite me, a kind face. 

You were the first face I came across after I had received my cancer diagnosis. At the time, you were just a friendly face I would smile at from across the room. But as time went on, things changed. I am now honoured to have been able to call you my friend.

1st January

This time last year, I laid in my hospital bed over new years & welcomed 2015 on a teenage cancer ward. This year, I welcomed 2016 quietly with friends and reflected on what a roller-coaster year I had. I had been waiting to say goodbye to 2015 for so long, and now I happily can. The year that brought me down on so many low levels, which has only allowed me to appreciate the highs so much more. I am extremely thankful for the help I received last year and most importantly thankful for my much improved health and the relief of being in remission.

 I am more than ready for a bigger, better and healthier 2016. 

So, I welcome January with a positive mind and attitude. Happy, Happy, Happy New Year.