I’m A Finalist In The #Bibs2019 Awards. Thank you.

“It’s bowel cancer”

Those three simple words that spilled out of the mouth of my consultant blew up my life, but you lovely readers already know that. You know because you have been with me every step of the way. I started this blog nearly four years ago and when I was diagnosed with bowel cancer I was determined that something good should come out of the sh*tty situation. I was determined that I would raise awareness of bowel cancer; I would show that it’s not just an old person’s disease. I wanted to highlight that you can never be too young to get bowel cancer.

“It’s bowel cancer”

You were there with me, sat in that sterile and hushed room as the words that changed the course of my life were delivered to me. You cheered me on from the sidelines. Every appointment, every setback, every small milestone, you were there holding my hand and offering me comfort. You never judged me for the bad days. The days where I struggled to get out of bed, the days where I could barely hold it together for my children. Your kind words always kept me moving forward.

You’ve been with me as I’ve navigated cycle after cycle of chemo. You’ve held me together as I’ve dealt with the horrific side effects. You shouted for joy when we learnt that Phyllis, my tumour, had shrunk enough that I wouldn’t need radiotherapy. You understood my fear when I found out I’d had sepsis. You helped me believe that I could run 5km for Cancer Research UK and all of you helped me raise over £4k. You calmed me down when I shared how scared I was about going into hospital for my bowel cancer surgeries. You helped me come to terms with my stoma and you were there for me in the dead of night when I woke up to find my stoma had leaked and that I was in a seeping puddle of my own excrement. I felt ashamed and alone but you made me realise that I wasn’t on my own.

“It’s bowel cancer”

Three little words that were delivered to me in February. Three little words that had the potential to devastate me but they didn’t because I had all of you rooting for me. You’ve worn badges with Piss Off Phyllis emblazoned across them, you’ve made me laugh when I’ve been stuck in the chemo chair and the smell of bleach and sick has been making me feel nauseous, you gave me space when I learnt that I had vascular invasion and you were devastated with me when I learnt I would need four more cycles of chemo. You understood my anguish when Mr C had to gently explain that I would never get to hear the three words I’d been so desperate to hear: “You’re in remission”.

However, I feel very lucky. I’m lucky because I’m still here. When I was first diagnosed my tumour was a stage 4. There is no stage 5. I am incredibly lucky. If I had left it a little bit longer I might not be here now, I might not be sat on my laptop tapping away on this article. I’m lucky because some people will need to have chemo for the rest of their life. My last lot of chemo should be stopping in October. Yes, there is a chance it could come back. The vascular invasion means that we just don’t know now. It could be in my blood whizzing around. It could settle somewhere else but then it might not and I have to cling onto the might not. Yes, the statistics aren’t good. There is a 1 in 3 chance that my cancer could come back, but there’s also a 2 in 3 chance that it won’t.

“It’s bowel cancer”

This has been the toughest year of my life: from telling the girls I had bowel cancer through to dealing with the long term side effects of my bowel cancer surgeries. It hasn’t been easy but then there is so much positive I can take from this year. We hear so much about the negative impact of social media. This year has shown me that there is so much good to take away from social media; it can be a really positive space. I’ve documented my life with bowel cancer and I’ve tried to raise awareness. I’ve spoken on the TV and radio and I’ve appeared in the local newspaper. It wasn’t easy. There were times when the interviews left me emotionally exhausted. Opening up and putting yourself out there can make you feel very vulnerable. Holding myself together during interviews was incredibly tough and there were times when I nearly broke down. But, I did it because I was determined to raise awareness. I hope that I have shown that cancer doesn’t need to be all doom and gloom, that it’s still possible to find the humour. I’m hoping that I’ve also broken down some of the cancer stereotypes.

I’m A Finalist

Last night I found out that I was a finalist in the BritMums Influence in Blogging (aka the BIBS) awards. I feel very honoured to have been included in the ‘Inspire’ category, but really this isn’t about me. This award is for all of you because it’s your support that inspired me to keep plodding forward. It’s your support that continues to inspire me and makes me want to share my journey. This nomination was completely unexpected and I’m still in shock this morning. There are no words that adequately express how grateful I am to have all of you on my side. Firstly, a massive thank you to those lovely and very kind people who voted for me. You have made my week and it will be lovely to have something so positive to focus on as I start cycle 7 of chemo later today.

It was such a fabulous surprise to find out I had been nominated, let alone to find out I was a finalist. I’m already chuffed to bits but winning this award would really be the icing on the cake. If you would like to vote for me/you/us you can do so here. You will find me in category 5 under ‘Inspire”. You will need to leave your email address. That’s so they can make sure that I’m not setting up a thousand emails to vote for myself ;-). You can also vote just the once (this is for you mum 🙂 ) or your vote will be disqualified.

“It’s bowel cancer”

3 words that can make you feel very lonely, but I’ve never felt alone because I have all of you at my side.

We can do this.

Thank you xx