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Friday 15 June 2012

Control


So I notice I've become somewhat absent. This is not because I don't have time for my blog, it's simply due to the fact that I have nothing much cancer-related to talk about, and this being a blog about my cancer, it all proves a little difficult. Don't get me wrong, that doesn't mean my life is back to hunky-dory how it was; far from it, in fact..it just means that nothing is interesting enough to share.


However, I have experienced a few problems as of late, which have made me angry, to say the least. So I finish my treatment; my nine months of hell and I'm put into remission. YAY. WOPEE. HALLELUJAH. CELEBRATIONS. All is well; I'm told my life will slowly morph back to normality, I only need to go into hospital once a month for clinic, my side effects shouldn't be too disruptive, I should cope fine..la de dah. I'm given the impression that I have my life back. Yes? No. I have recently discovered that my life is still very much controlled by my disease, by my doctors and by the hospital.

Example A
For about three years now, I've wanted double piercings (a piercing just above a normal lobe one) and to begin with, my parents were all 'no no you're not getting that' and it annoyed me very much. And then they accepted it and agreed to it early last year as I was getting ill. I was then diagnosed and all that was thrown out the window due to infection risk etc. As soon as my treatment is over, I'm planning on when to get them done, where to go and all that. I'm told to wait a few months for my bloods to go back to normal. That was October. This is June. I'm still unpierced. I decide to go last week, plan it, and tell my mum. "Oh did Angela say it was okay" "Well, she said in October to wait a couple months.." "No, no, I would rather you had Angela's direct permission." Angela being my consultant and first port of call. REALLY? I am not twelve. I do not want to have to get permission for everything I do. I want my promised independence, please. 

Example B
I have just returned from spending the week in London on work experience. As far as I'm concerned, and I hope, I am cancer free. Cancer was in a previous life and I'm a 'normal' person now. Of course, not a day goes by without cancer-related implications or jokes or conversations or thoughts, but on the whole it doesn't hugely affect my day-to-day life as it used to, obviously. So I'm all packed and jetted off to London when my mum asks that I've ensured that I've given my discharge notes to my dad's friend who I'm staying with. What? "Just in case anything happens." Fair enough, of course, she is my mother, she worries and my safety is paramount to her. But, really? 

Although these two provided examples may seem somewhat small and petty, there are many. They add up. They frustrate me and they deduct from the normality of my life. My life will never be normal. Never ever. I had cancer and I will forever more be defined and restricted by my cancer. But for crying out loud, let me pierce my ears.

DON'T FORGET TO SPONSOR ME AND MY PALS WHO ARE DOING A DRAGON BOAT RACE NEXT WEEK FOR A LOCAL EDINBURGH CANCER CHARITY. EVERY DONATION WILL MAKE A HUGE DIFFERENCE. WE NEED YOUR HELP TO REACH OUR TARGETED £2, 000. FOLLOW THIS LINK TO SPONSOR;www.virginmoneygiving.com/team/Lauras-Road-to-Recovery X