Support Groups

Every two weeks I attend a cancer support group based in Harrogate. Last Saturday it was the half day, but they do full days too. On the full day it offers a full meal at lunchtime (half day just soup), as well as support in the form of counselling, Reiki, healing, aromatherapy, reflexology, indian head massage and various others. There is also lots of books and literature as well as the ability to chat to others who are going through a similar experience.

I always find it immensly rewarding to go. The treatments relax you and it's nice to speak to people from all walks of life united by a common dis-ease. In particular it offers all this for the carer who I often feel are a little overlooked. Arguably they are going through a more difficult time than the sufferer since they often feel so helpless in the situation.

When first diagnosed I felt very much that I could deal with this on my own and didn't think a support group would do me any good but I can honestly say that it has been, and is, a very rewarding experience. I recommend it to all.

They have a website, but I can't find it at the moment. I will post it here once I do.

Last Nights Doo.

Last night was the launch of the DVD and website. I was up in the 'technical' box pushing the buttons along with the resident media guy Allen. As always with any event something has to go wrong. In this case the sound cable that had been plugged into the camera, providing us with video content, was a mono lead - in a stereo output. This meant that only one sound channel was being broadcast which lead to the very high music and the very low speech. An apology to David Hood, Aidan Wray, and Laura Middleton who had less than perfect sound quality. Once the full extent of this was realised the interval was hosted early whilst the media man jumped into action and corrected it. From then on it went swimmingly.

It was great to see people collecting their awards and how well they looked compared to how they were on their video. It really goes to show that when you have chemotherapy it's not just your hair that falls out, you also look completely drained of energy and colour.

There were also people there that are still having their treatment (myself included) and I wish them all the best of luck. It was inspiring to see people who have made it through their treatment and come out at the other side looking so well. It gives you hope.

It's in the paper innit...

The Yorkshire Post has an article about the DVD and the website, and includes me mentioned by name. My favourite part is Mark quoted as saying ''Any newly diagnosed teenager at Jimmy's will get a copy of this hour-long DVD which will be a great help to them, I think."

I think ;)

the Journey

I could have started the chemo yesterday but decided to wait until the 17th of April. This gives me a bit of time to get my head around it all. It also, potentially, gives the dis-ease time to spread. But, in this time I'm going to do my best to let go of the issues that keep making me ill. I was completely clear just a few months ago, chemo continued to 'zap' anything that may be left. Then here it is, just a few months later, back again.

To me this is trying to tell me something. My body is trying to tell me something. I need to let go of negative past experiences that I am holding on to. How do I do this? It's no secret that I am into homeopathic medicine and spirituality. No, that doesn't mean religion; I don't particularly subscribe to any kind of organised religion, but that doesn't mean to say you can't be spiritual. I believe there is a way to let go of this dis-ease without the use of any pharmaceutical drugs. I have used them in the past and I don't regret it, but then why is this cancer returning? This cancer isn't something with a direct causation like smoking or asbestos poisoning; at least I don't think so. I lead a healthy active life. So I don't believe that shocking my body with incredibly toxic drugs will 'save me'. I do believe they can buy you more time, and also the experience of cancer itself can make you look at life in a different way and therefore allow you to heal, but it hasn't happened with me yet. Over the course of the next month I am going to try and experience my thoughts and emotions at their deepest level and find out what direction my life needs to take. Others have done, so why can't I? I created this cancer, so I can destroy it. If there's a way in, there's a way out.

There's a video by Brandon Bays on monday9am.tv (click 'Film of the Week', then 'Play' - it's only on there this week though). She did it, and she has developed a program to help yourself called 'The Journey'. There's a book and more. I have booked myself on a Journey weekend in London on the 7th and 8th of April. Again, this isn't a guaranteed success as I will have to do the work, and I am going to get myself mentally ready and begin the process before this.

tell the masses, check.

I had to tell my mum yesterday as she rang up to ask how the CT scan went. I couldn't lie so I told her. I could tell she was shocked. I also told Imelda's parents, our friends Ali and Gareth, my Grandma...it will soon spread to all of Imelda's extended family like the wildfire any bit of news about anything always does. At least I got that out of the way now. I'm feeling strong and am ready to face this head on...

a bit of a shock?

Yesterday I went for a CT scan to double check that this cancer had gone from my body. For the past 6 months I have been receiving ABVD chemotherapy as an outpatient at Cookridge Hospital in Leeds. Last November I had a CT scan and I was told that the cancer was already gone, that we would just finish the course of chemo to make sure it was. Yesterday's CT scan was going to be a marker to show my healthy body, with some scar tissue.

At the meeting with the doctor it turns out there is some swelling in my chest and some activity in my hip area. Not huge, but enough to suggest that it hasn't completely gone. It is now proposed I have ESHAP chemo and stem cell transplant.

Imelda, my girlfriend of seven years, was there with me and we were both shocked by the news. We really weren't expecting this. Everything was going so well. In the past year I have got my web design business up and running, we have almost completed on buying our flat, Imelda just got a promotion. Things were going great, and now this.

Actually, I felt very calm about it all. Really, nothing has changed. Although it's a new type of chemo, a little more intense, we have over the past year got very used to this uncertain lifestyle. If I look at it this way then I'm sure I can make it through. I don't feel upset for myself but I do get upset when I think of telling others. How will they react to this? My family and friends were overjoyed 4 months ago when I told them it was gone.

I am going to my grandma's today to tell her the news. I told my dad but he is in Columbus, Ohio, at the moment on a business trip and won't be back until Monday evening, which is why I will wait to tell my mum as she is alone in France.

One thing is for sure, I am going to take control of this situation now. In the past, although I pretended to be in control, I have been very much a 'patient'. Not of the hospital, but of my mother's and the people around me. Always trying to satisfy their desires when it comes to treatment and lifestyle choices. As I wrote in my diary last night, I am not scared, I am not angry, I am pissed off.