Tag Archives: FUCANCER

World Gratitude Day

It has come to my attention that yesterday was World Gratitude Day. Despite a very challenging year I believe I am more thankful than ever! 

My family, my friends, my medical team and Maggie’s are top of the list of who I’d like to show my appreciation for. I simply wouldn’t be where I am today without them. The reality is the list is a lot longer. I am grateful for the ingenious researchers who made my cancer treatment possible and the phenomenal NHS who I’ve become far too familiar. It’s quite apt that I am writing this blog from a hospital bed…

Unfortunately I had a seizure last night which resulted in another trip to A&E. Every trip to hospital, especially when visiting the emergency department, I feel like a drama queen wasting precious time and valuable resources. Once again I was reminded of how hardworking and caring the NHS team are. From James, the reassuring and thourough doctor who gifted me his banana as a snack, to the ever cheerful nurses who are always on hand and the super thoughtful porter who searched the wards to source me a toothbrush and toothpaste. They are simply amazing.

Following a CT scan, a good night sleep and a slight change to my medication I am happy to report that I am back home with lady Parsnip and the Funny Boy. I am not ashamed to admit that the only time I experience homesickness is whenever I am forced to stay in hospital.

With family living in Canada and a slight insight to the cost of medical treatment – I realise how much I take a funded health service for granted. Within the last 12 months alone I have required two operations, spent multiple nights in hospital and received several MRI and CT scans – the cost of which is more than tens of thousands of pounds. To put it simply, if I lived in another country I doubt I could afford to have cancer! 

So in light of World Gratitiude Day I want to show my appreciation for everyone who lifts me up but especially the NHS. You are incredible. We are so lucky to have you. Thank you!

As always FUCANCER!

Why is it easier to say I have cancer than admit I have depression?

Cancer has been a part of my life for 5 years. In that time I have grown immune to the range of reactions people give:

“But you’re so young!”

“You must have a history of it in you’re family”

“But you’re back to normal now?”

And another common response is one of silence carried with a look of disbelief. I am an open person and frequently use my story as an opportunity to raise awareness. Don’t get me wrong – I don’t introduce myself as ‘I’m Heather and I have cancer’ but if the topic does come up in conversation I will reinforce how important it is to regularly check your boobs or balls, attend your screenings and go the GP if you do notice any changes. I do wish cancer wasn’t a part of my life but it is not something I am ashamed of. I think it is important to educate people that cancer does not discriminate which means we are all at risk. There is no history of it in my family and unfortunately life never goes back to ‘normal’.

Cancer has a huge impact on mental health and over the last few months I have really struggled. At first I thought it was just a blip – it has been a crazy year and at some point the emotions were due to catch up on me. After a gentle nudge from the Funny Boy I finally visited my GP. I explained how my mood was impacting my work, relationships and even preventing me from making simple decisions. She diagnosed me with depression and suggested I try taking an anti depressant. I left the surgery with my prescription and dismissed her diagnosis. I was stubborn and embarrassed – I had no intention of taking the medication.

Unsurprisingly my situation didn’t improve. I felt like I had failed at everything and even started questioning ‘what’s the point?’ Once again the Funny Boy intervened. We booked another appointment with my GP and planned a trip to Maggie’s. I was honest with my doctor and admitted I hadn’t started the medication. At both meetings I explained how ashamed I felt – I wasn’t prepared to accept or admit that I was depressed.

Thankfully, with the support of my GP, Maggie’s and Funny Boy I started to take the medication and see a psychologist. More importantly they gave me the courage to start talking about my mental health with my family and friends.

According to statistics 1 in 4 people in the UK will experience a mental health problem each year. Or to put it another way at some point pretty much everybody will experience poor mental health in their lifetime – so why is it still a taboo?

Why did I fear telling people?

Why was I so scared of being judged?

And why, why, why do I find it easier to say i have cancer than admit I have depression?

I am definitely beginning to feel better but it hasn’t happened overnight. For me everything began to improve when I admitted there was a problem and I started being honest with my nearest and dearest. The reality is my family and friends have shown me nothing but love, support and understanding.

As always, FUCANCER!

Don’t Stop Me Now

Surprisingly, our team didn’t take home the title of Best Dressed but we did win the Wooden Spoon!

Funny Boy here, I felt compelled to step in and write a blog because I don’t think Heather will reveal what happened last week…

It has been a very busy summer for Heather. Not satisfied with organising the annual STICK IT TO CANCER (SITC) tournament, she took on the challenge of organising 2 additional events.

In between the hockey festivals we flew to Canada to celebrate the wedding of Heather’s brother, Gareth and the lovely Katie. It was an incredible trip and we returned refreshed, if slightly jet lagged.

We arrived at 9am on Monday morning and from the moment our flight landed Heather opened her TO DO LIST for the final Stick It To Cancer tournament.

Heather works on STICK IT TO CANCER throughout the year. She has a GANTT chart, a mood board and is constantly considering new opportunities to improve the event and ultimately raise more funds. I, too had been preparing for SITC – My preparations started about 6 months ago.

For those of you who are unfamiliar with SITC, it is a fancy dress hockey festival. The tournament offers prizes for the Champions, Best Dressed and Spirit of Stick it. Determined to be a contender for Best Dressed I decided to dress as one of my all time heroes – Mr Freddie Mercury. In order for it to be convincing I knew I needed to grow a beard for the sole reason of having a real moustache. So as of January my prep began.

I knew Heather wasn’t fully on board with my new look. As Gareth’s wedding drew closer she said to me “the photos from the wedding will be around a long time, are you sure you want to look like that?”

I considered what she said, but while Heather had been making spreadsheets, recruiting volunteers, contacting donors and managing social media I had been doing my prep; pushing the follicles out of my face was hard work.

The eve of STICK IT TO CANCER arrived. Heather and I woke early with a busy schedule of moving equipment, setting up the pitches and one final shopping trip. When we finally arrived home I knew we wouldn’t be going out again. I decided it was time to kiss the beard goodbye and style my Mercury moustache. I stole Heather’s mascara and blackened my new tash and eyebrows. It’s fair to say the results were ridiculous; My hair bleached blonder than usual from my two weeks in the Canadian sun contrasting with my new matt black moustache and eyebrows.

The preparations were complete and Heather seemed happy so there was nothing left to do but relax. We snuggled up on the sofa with Parsnip and put on the TV.

All of a sudden Heather sat up and repeatedly told me she felt dizzy. She was conscious and talking but as she got up to walk her coordination was missing. She continued talking but nothing she said made sense. It t took me a good few minutes to realise that Heather was having a seizure.

So it is 11pm on the night before SITC and I had no choice but to take her to hospital.

It took Heather about an hour before she started to feel better. She couldn’t remember how she got to hospital or indeed anything in between.

As usual the staff at St John’s hospital were amazing. They spent a few hours performing various tests on Heather. As she started feeling better and began to realise what day it was Heather quickly focussed on the hockey tournament (which was due to start in a number of hours) and started pleading with the doctors to let her go. SITC is arguably one of the biggest days of the year for us, Heather was desperate to be there.

Heather has a team of amazing volunteers and a committee that help with planning the tournament, but she is responsible for a lot of what happens on the day.

I had the startling realisation that if I had to lead the event on her behalf then the only work I had done was growing a moustache. This leads me onto another point: Once again I am back at St John’s hospital in the early hours of the morning supporting Heather. This Accident and Emergency Department is now the scene of just a few of my less-than-proud moments; passing out and cracking my head open was pretty spectacular and on another occasion I vomited all over the back of an ambulance. The staff seem to remember us but thankfully on this occasion I did not faint or feel the need to be sick.

Determined to be a good husband and leave with a good reputation this time, I stuck by Heather’s side. Unfortunately the seizure left Heather unsteady on her feet so I escorted her to the toilet. Within the cubicle I glanced in the mirror and to my horror saw a slightly altered looking reflection staring back. A small peely wally bloke with very blonde hair, black eyebrows and a large black handlebar moustache.

Once again, I looked like a total muppet.

Back in the hospital bay and after completing the numerous tests the consultants agreed Heather could return home, provided she was with a responsible adult. The doctor’s tone suggested this was more of a question, rather than an acknowledgement of my presence. I then explained the reason for my strange appearance to which he replied “I did wonder what that was all about”.

We left the hospital at 3 am.

The next morning we were up at 6.30am and set off as planned. Heather insisted on going but I did make her promise that she would go straight back to hospital if she felt unwell.

Then Heather did what she always does, she threw her cape over her shoulder and flew over to East Fettes Avenue. Nobody at SITC would know that her super powers had been temporarily affected by a dose of kryptonite the night before.

Being a fancy dress tournament there were a lot of people dressed as super heroes. Little did they know a real one was selling their raffle tickets, making the day run on time, oh and raising over £10,000 for Maggie’s!

Plans for 2020 are already underway. If you would like to be part of STICK IT TO CANCER next year please follow FUCANCER to be kept updated on all the events.