Monthly Archives: December 2019

2019

2019 has been a tough year.

We opened January with me still in recovery from my second craniotomy and within the second week I was back in theatre having my appendix removed. Unfortunately I picked up a post-op infection which kept me in hospital for another 10 days. I was the most physically sick I have ever been and lost a stone in weight.

Appendectomy, January 2019

Fast forward to Spring when I returned to work which brought it’s own set of challenges. The culmination of two craniotomies, one appendectomy and a second cancer diagnosis in less than five years was beginning to hit me. No matter how hard I tried to move forward I struggled mentally. After a long internal battle and huge dose of gentle encouragement from the Funny Boy, I finally sought help. I still find it easier to say I have cancer than admit I have depression but I have learned the more I talk about my mental health, the easier it is to manage.

With the family at Tiny, Ontario – June 2019

June was a definitely a highlight. Thankfully I was allowed to travel to Toronto to see my brother get married and spend two weeks with my family. Upon return we had the fourth STICK IT TO CANCER which raised over £11k meaning since its inception in 2016 the festivals have raised over £30k for the Maggie’s Cancer Centre in Edinburgh.

STICK IT TO CANCER 2019 raising over £11k for the Maggie’s Cancer Centre in Edinburgh,
July 2019

In August, whilst walking Parsnip with my mum and the Funny Boy, my mum collapsed. I thought she suffered a stroke but when the ambulance arrived and she eventually regained consciousness, it was apparent my mum had experienced her first seizure. This day is a vivid memory filled with fear.

As we waited for my mum’s appointment with the Neurologist, my mind wrestled with facts over thoughts. My seizures led to my brain cancer diagnosis. The specialists told us that less than 8% of seizures are as a result of cancer so as always I stayed optimistic but I found myself imagining the worse.

Pumpkin (L) & Parsnip (R), October 2019

October saw the very welcome arrival of Pumpkin. Another highlight! Our family has grown and our hearts are richer as a result. Parsnip has been promoted to big sister and the Funny Boy has dropped down another rung of the ladder in our home but everyone is happy.

Pumpkin’s first holiday. Ballater, November 2019

November brought the news of another craniotomy. My mum had another seizure but this did escalate her appointment. We finally got the all-clear from her MRI scan which was a huge relief. She has since started anti-seizure medication and hopefully that means no more episodes.

In December I returned for my 3rd craniotomy and now I am here – recovering from major surgery, digesting the news that my tumour is a stage 3. Getting ready to meet my Neuro-oncologist next week and preparing myself for radiotherapy in the New Year.

3rd Craniotomy, December 2019

The hardest part with all of this is seeing the impact it has upon my parents. They are at a point in life where they should be enjoying retirement and only stressing about where to go on holiday. Instead they are chaperoning me to appointments, babysitting me whilst I recover from surgery and doing anything in their willpower to make life easier for the Funny Boy and I.

Cancer is very isolating. Being unable to play hockey and exercise is a huge loss creating empty evenings and Saturdays. Surrendering my driving license means I don’t see my family or friends as much as I’d like. I really miss my independence and all of this has contributed to a rapidly shrinking social circle. Cancer really teaches you who your true friends are.

The ‘cancer life’ is a treadmill of appointments, making difficult decisions and dealing with the ongoing emotional and physical side effects. The Funny Boy and I are addressing issues the average couple in our peer group have never experienced. It is an evolving challenge which we are constantly adapting to. We sometimes imagine what life would be like without cancer and at times we feel alienated.

But, we do take time to appreciate how lucky we are. How grateful we are for our loyal friends who keep in touch and consistently show up when the sh*t hits the fan. For our new friends who surprise us with FUCANCER brownies, who send sausage dog decorations in the post and leave lovely letters decorated with Parsnip and Pumpkin illustrations. We are truly blessed and no matter how challenging the last 12 months have been we are reminded that in the worst of times, you often see the best of people.

On behalf of the Funny Boy, Parsnip, Pumpkin and myself I’d like to extend a huge thank you to everyone for your generosity and support. Wishing you & your loved ones a joyous Christmas and a new year filled with love, laughter and good health.

Wishing you a very Merry Christmas & prosperous 2020!

As always, FUCANCER

I love our NHS

With surgery on the 9th of December and the small matter of a general election 3 days later, the Funny Boy and I have confirmed a postal vote so we don’t miss out. In the last few years I have found political news fascinating – it is so gripping it resembles a Netflix blockbuster series! From Independence to Brexit there has been plenty of drama.  It is hard to watch and at times even harder to believe. For one programme we simply have  too many villainous characters – I don’t  know who to trust!

Two major hospitals in Scotland have experienced huge challenges under the Scottish National Party: The Glasgow Queen Elizabeth Hospital is facing one problem after another and as for the revamped Royal Infirmary in Edinburgh – that was due to open 4 years ago but can’t due to problems with air conditioning and risk of flooding.  As a Neuro patient I was promised the move to the new department in May 2018 but to no avail – a date is still ‘to be confirmed’.

More so than ever before, I have people asking me who will get my vote and the truth is I am still unsure. 

It is fair to say that I’m a hospital patient more than your average person in their 30s and on each occasion I always leave feeling in awe of  the doctors and nurses who support me. Their dedication and passion is second to none and I have never met a harder working group of people. On more than one occasion I have watched nurses work  a 12 hour shift finding no time to finish a hot cup of tea, let alone a proper lunch break! 

As for the Conservative Goverment – they have steadily reduced budgets,  the number of nurse training places has been cut and they abolished bursaries for trainee nurses. The result of which is 93% of NHS trusts falling short of the number of nurses they need: that’s three times more than five years ago. Nurses are being substituted with untrained assistants. 

Ultimately the front facing team who deliver healthcare are not able to do their job to the best possible standard meaning people’s lives are at stake. 

Now, there is proof that our current Prime Minister has initiated conversations with the USA which suggests that privatisation of our NHS could be a reality in the future. This terrifies me! 


The average cost of someone being treated for brain cancer in the USA is $150,000 per year. I cannot begin to imagine how hard it must be to face a cancer diagnosis whilst dealing with the financial implications. 

Today I had a four hour appointment to check I was fit for surgery. This allowed time for me to discuss the procedure with my surgeon, anaesthetist and nurses. Living in the UK, I don’t need to worry about the cost of treatment because we have the INCREDIBLE NHS. This is what our taxes pay for – the NHS is our lifeline that is there when we need it: 7 days a week, 24 hours a day!  I am genuinely frightened that our vital lifeline could be lost within the next two decades. 

In my lifetime I have had 8 operations. In the last decade I have had over 20 MRI scans, countless blood tests and more. In the last 18 months I have required 5 ambulance trips and spent  more than 40 nights in a hospital bed. Every morning I take three types of medication which I depend upon to get me through the day. I have a medical team which includes specialists from surgery, oncology, neurology, epilepsy, psychology and even menopause.

Cancer doesn’t discriminate, accidents happen and everyone will experience poor health at some point. Let’s not jeopardise healthcare based on who can afford it. As you prepare to vote, please take time to appreciate our NHS and consider how your vote can protect it.

As always, FUCANCER

I would prefer to have a picture of my medical team – especially Mr Liaquat but I’m afraid this will have to suffice.