Thrills, pills and a headscarf

I posted this photo from the plane as we returned back from Sydney on Friday. I was smiling; and that was very genuine. I was relieved and thrilled, and a little stunned, to hear the word stable on Wednesday. It was a feeling I could not have imagined before this diagnosis. I regularly share pictures of me smiling because I am generally pretty happy to be alive. I'd like to share a little behind the build up to this most recent smile. In December I got my usual pre-Christmas bad news. I love Christmas and all the fun, celebration and family time that comes with it. Cancer appears to be pretty determined to challenge this love because, instead of coal in my stocking, which actually seems pretty appealing these days, it gifts me shitty news each pre-Christmas appointment. It started in Christmas 2016 (pre-diagnosis) when I found out my liver wasn't functioning properly. Christmas 2017 it gifted me some new tumours in my newly regrown liver and a very difficult decision on w...

Today I had a total meltdown. A public meltdown. The kind of meltdown that involved tears and cries of I can't cope. At a reception desk. With a load of strangers around. A meltdown at total strangers. It wasn't my finest moment and now I look back at it I can laugh and say "wow, that was a bit crazy of me. I guess nobody should mess with me at the moment". It was a meltdown that had me warning my mum if she couldn't contact me I'd probably been locked up. Looking back at it I also feel completely justified. I had treatment yesterday. As much as I like this drug, treatment always makes me feel a little bit shit. It is a foreign substance being injected directly into my central vein, after all. I slept yesterday afternoon and as I slept an allergic reaction started to develop. This is unfortunate as, completely unrelated to cancer, I also have the world's most ridiculous allergy, to dust mite. There had been some work done in the hotel I stay in at trea...

As the bus pulled up I suspected this was going to be an uncomfortable ride. There were plenty of people at the stop, cards ready to tap on, and already things were looking pretty full in there. It was only about a 15 minute ride so definitely achievable but I wasn't feeling too excited about it. We all climbed on and juggled our way down the aisle finding a suitable place to stop. I strategically placed myself next to a pole and leant my whole body against it. Looking longingly at the courtesy seats full of seemingly healthy people I thought to myself "shit, I wish I looked sicker". It's a weird thought to have. I spend so much of my life doing everything to avoid looking sick and here I am thinking "if I looked like a cancer patient in the films, you know the ones who are completely bald, with grey skin and that tragically sad look permanently plastered on their faces, someone would definitely offer me a seat". Damn my able-looking body. Maybe I should...

A couple of weeks ago I hit a point I had hoped I wouldn't. I've had a lot of treatment since diagnosis and we've always, in the background, known immunotherapy exists. We've chatted about it a few times and always found some other option. It has remained the card up the sleeve and that's how I liked it. Until two weeks ago. That's when the world went for another spin and a spectacular crash for me. I went for my scan result and was informed the chemotherapy isn't working. Sure, the two smaller spots are shrinking but the big bugger (Stephen Shitbag) who's wedged himself at the back of my liver and is trying to buddy up with blood vessels and stuff, he's not having any of this chemo crap. While the rest of my body is busy falling apart from it, he's thriving and has grown two centimetres since the last scan. The shitbag. Well, we can't be having that. Me getting sicker from something that's supposed to be killing him. So chemo is off ...

I like to think I was a fairly present person before this cancer diagnosis. I like to think a lot of things.  What I can say is this diagnosis has made me a far more present person, in so many ways, than ever before. Even with that wonderful chemo brain that makes me unbelievably forgetful, with the fatigue, nausea and tendency to space out (particularly when I'm low on blood sugars) I believe I'm learning the art of being more present. Note I say learning, not have learnt. (If we ever think we've reached perfection then we've failed ourselves - a hangover from my Learning and Development days) Something I realised after being told I may have less time than many is that I wanted my family and friends to know just how much they mean to me. For my nephews and nieces to know that as long as they continue being the wonderful people they are and never hurt anyone I will always think the world of them, that they are amazing and I couldn't ask for anyone better to...

Written, as promised, for my mother. Since I started travelling I said you always want things to go really right or really wrong - you never want average. At least with really right or really wrong you've got a good story. This is a rationale I started applying to life too. I had no idea how much it was going to come back and bite me in the arse! About a week after returning from my South America trip I sat in a cafe with my mum in Karangahake, discussing many things including my health - or lack thereof. She said to me that I may be giving a false impression that this is an easy journey with my positivity. That several people had commented on how well I was dealing with this and I acknowledged I had had similar comments. So, because it's the year of yes and because I love my mum (even though I tell her the wonderful daughterly things like how terrible she is and how I'm pretty sure her carcinogenic toasted sandwiches were the cause of the cancer in the first place)...

I've always said that travelling gave me an education I could never buy. One that could never be taught in schools or universities; that simply needs to be learnt as each opportunity presents itself. Those opportunities could be great fun or amazingly challenging. All of them important to deal with. I feel so thankful to have had another four weeks to continue my education in life and as slow as I've been on my blogs I want to share some of those learnings. Some useful, some not. Language is great in it's ambiguity: I thought I spoke Spanish to a point. I guess that's still strictly true but we had some fun experiences with it. It was quite empowering to realise I was still able to get by in Spanish, speak to people and get done what I needed to get done even if it wasn't perfect. What I did learn was there are many more differences between the Castellano I have learnt and South American Spanish. In some of many language confusions we established that ...