Teenage Cancer Awareness Week

Hello All :)

First of all, I must apologise for my lack of posting for the last 3 (!) months! I don't really know where the time has gone if I'm honest! I had so many great ideas for posts, most of which are still just sitting in the 'draft' section!

Things are good with me. I had an operation at the end of August to remove a lump from the muscle layer over my ribs, which was another suspected Melanoma, but the GOOD NEWS is that it was just a fatty lump! I don't think I've ever been happier to have one! Apart from that, things are ticking along swimmingly, and things are definitely on the up :)

The main reason for this post, is that this week is 'Teenage Cancer Awareness Week' which is run by my charity of choice, Teenage Cancer Trust. 

This week is all about raising awareness in young people about what cancer is, what it feels like, what is does and most importantly, how to tell the symptoms of cancer, so you know whether to get yourself checked out or not. 

Teenage Cancer Trust have released a lot of really interesting stuff about this, including a leaflet from which this is taken (http://www.teenagecancertrust.org/workspace/documents/TeenageCancerTrustAwarenessWeek_Leaflet.pdf). These things are worth bearing in mind, no matter how old you are!!

I, for one, am pleased that this year they have included 'changes in a mole' as as an unofficial Melanoma spokesperson, I always feel it gets brushed under the rug a bit, even though it's the highest rising cancer in young people!!

Teenage Cancer Trust do a wonderful job both in hospital and out. If any of you fancy having a look at the website, the link is: http://www.teenagecancertrust.org/

Their sister site is JimmyTeens, with whom I made this video I made about diagnosis (also about symptoms!) http://jimmyteens.tv/2012/07/10/talking-diagnosis/

So, yeah! I don't like to be preachy, but it's always worth keeping an eye on your body and knowing what is normal and what is not, because the best cure for cancer is early diagnosis! 

I promise, more blog posts soon!

Phoebe x

Scanxiety

Scanxiety
n. the tension which builds particulary amongst those who have or have had cancer as they move towards their regular check up scan, hyperscanxiety being the period as they await results

I couldn't have put it better myself!

After a blissful, eventful and very happy few months, I was reminded with a bump, two days after arriving home from America, that cancer is never really very far away.

A mixture of jet lag and 'scanxiety' kept me up til 4am the night before my scan, which went perfectly to plan, but now I'm just waiting, waiting and waiting for results.

A week post-scan and all I can do is think about it. I'm constantly waiting for my phone to ring, and every time it does, I hope it's the hospital. Waiting is the worst. Especially when you're as impatient as me, and when the results are a matter of life or death-literally!!!

Well, as there's not a lot I can do about it, I will continue being 'scanxious' and update when I have some news!

For now...







- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Time Flies When You're Having Fun!

Sooooooo....I well and truly failed at writing every day this month, infant, writing any more at all! There are several reasons for this...

1) I've been insanely busy. Busier than I have been all year! The month started with me getting two (yes two!) jobs, on the union bars and as a student ambassador, especially for working with young people trying to inspire them to go to university. Then I was in the university's production of 'Poppea' which was, to all intents and purposes, rather successful :) I went to France for a week to visit Richard for the last time before he comes home, I went home home to see KLOS' Sound of Music, and plenty of other things-phew!!

2) I've also had a crazy amount of uni work. Apparently it was all waiting for May to come about, and that it did. I've written the equivalent of a dissertation this month, as well as a 20-minute performance!

3) Probably the most important factor is that I've been having a bit of time 'off' cancer. I haven't had any problems, haven't felt ill haven't found any weird lumps or bumps or marks, and havent been waiting on any results! I've been using the time to really just get away from the whole thing,NAND to be honest, I feel so much better for it. Even though it is a life fact, and something that is going to be there forever, it's sometimes very nice to be able to just not have it at the front of your mind.

But despite my poor excuses, Melanoma, and cancer in general, has obviously been around! Hearing the stories of some of the people I know, and what they're going through, reminds me on a daily basis of what a cruel disease this really is.

One thing that I am pretty shocked at though, is how little has been made of promoting sun safety, especially in the recent weather, and also the fact that so many people think that skin cancer is not serious. With. Few stories in the media recently, I have read so many comments recently saying that 'it's nothing serious' and 'it's not like real cancer' and this is the sort of opinion that I'm faced with a lot. A type of cancer snobbery really, people saying that it's it 'real' cancer, because of the fact that i haven't had chemo. This is the sort of thing that needs to be wiped out, and something that people need to realise is not the case.

It's these sorts of opinions that need to be changed, and the opinions that cause people to be irresponsible in the sun. Now, I'm not saying that sun is the only thing that causes melanoma, but it has a significant contribution. It's like saying if you smoke 40 cigarettes a day, you might get lung cancer, but you might not, I'm inclined to believe that more people would not take the risk. The same applies with skin cancer. If you burn in the sun, you might get skin cancer, but you might not. I really think it is an unnecessary risk to take, and I was getting incredibly frustrated by all the posts on facebook over the last few days, saying how hilarious it is that people are burnt raw, and how people are going to go outside and fry...what the hell?! These are mostly educated people, and they still go and do this...hmm. I'm a bit lost for words to be honest,I just really hope that people get the facts into their heads soon and start to take more care in the sun, like they all told me they would...

I feel bad dictating, and whenever I was to say this, it was going to sound like a lecture, but I felt here was the best place!

I think we've got a long way to go until skin cancer is considered as seriously as other cancers, but I really hope we get there, very soon, and save as many lives as possible!


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Happy May!

Good Morning everyone, and welcome to May! I can't believe how quickly this year is going, and that it is May again already!!

So as some of you may know, May is Melanoma Awareness Month, getting people just in time for the summer! What I'm going to try and do (emphasis on try!) is to write a post on here every day, about Melanoma, other people I know who have suffered and general things I feel I should waffle about, with the aim of getting it spread to as many people as possible.

One thing that I think is really important to get across, is that Melanoma is a young person's disease. It is quickly becoming the most common cancer in young people, but if caught in the early stages is entirely treatable, and to an extent curable. That's why it is important to keep a really close eye on your skin, get to know your body, know what feels right and what feels wrong, and what looks write and wrong because it honestly could save your life!

So get reading, get sharing, and let's raise some awareness :)

xxx

L.I.F.E.G.O.E.S.O.N...

As Noah and The Whale put it, life does go on. But cancer is never really very far away.

After my recent reoccurrence, cancer seems to have taken on a whole new scary place in my life, as this shadow that is just waiting there to jump in and ruin my plans at the last minute. After the first bout and subsequent removal, I was naive enough to think that that was it for me and cancer, but the reoccurrence has proved me to be wrong, so now, every twinge, bout of breathlessness, lump, ache, pain, is automatically, in my mind anyway, cancer!

But however paranoid I get, I have to remember that yes, life does go on, and that if there is more cancer back, they will deal with it in whatever way possible and then that will be it! I am incredibly lucky in that the team I have working with me are so thorough and so on top of things that they will see me at the drop of a hat, and try their best to not have me waiting around for ages to get to see someone!

I think the thing that is making this all a lot worse is the fact that I did the ridiculous thing (don't ever do this!) but I googled my stage and prognosis, which quite frankly, was not what I wanted to hear.

So with that knowledge, I am back on track with making every day, minute, second matter to me because I probably don't have as many left as I thought I did!

And you know what? I would encourage every single one of you to do the same.

So with that in mind, I have created a 'bucket list' and though I won't divulge it all on here, I am well on the way to  doing many of the things on there, starting with a trip to Vegas and the Grand Canyon (and Wisconsin!) in June, seeing Jason Mraz live in December, and just generally having a very jolly time :)

As Jack Dawson so eloquently put it:

'I figure life's a gift and I don't intend on wasting it. You don't know what hand you're gonna get dealt next. You learn to take life as it comes at you... to make each day count.'

Desert Island Discs

As a child of 'Archers' fanatics, and being subjected to the Omnibus on a Sunday morning over the years, we tend to end up listening to Desert Island Discs straight after. I've always found this a pretty fascinating programme, and love what you learn about people from it. If you don't know the programme, it involves a 'celebrity' talking about 8 songs that they would take with them if they were stranded on a desert island. Listening to it usually makes me ask myself what mine would be, but thus far I  haven't got round toi doing it. During a hideously long and boring car journey this week, I decided I should just do it, and share it on here, as this doesn't have to be all doom and gloom! It took most of the journey and then most of the week to choose what my 8 would be! After much more angst than I had anticipated, I finally decided on my songs, and here they are :) (I won't go into detail as to why, as it will get a bit tedious!! If you want to know, ask :))

You Belong To Me by Jason Wade (Written by Pee Wee King)

It Doesn't Matter Any More by Buddy Holly

Ave Verum Corpus by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart

So In Love by Cole Porter

Need You Now by Lady Antebellum

A Whole New World by Alan Menken and Tim Rice

When All is Said and Done by ABBA

No Matter What by Boyzone

All of these songs hold a really special place in my life, for what they are, what they represent, and how they make me feel!

What would your 'Desert Island Discs' be??

Happy Anniversary...!

February 4th 2011 was the date that I was initially diagnosed with cancer, and on 2nd February 2012, when I thought it was all over for me, I was told that I had a reoccurrence. I'm not going to lie, incredibly scary news.

When I found out the first time, it was all a mystery. I didn't know a lot about skin cancer, I didn't even know there were different types. I didn't know about treatment, I didn't know how the body worked, and I didn't know how cancer worked. A year down the line though, I have a lot of wonderful friends and acquaintances who have been an incredible support to me who all have experiences with melanoma. In knowing these people, I have learnt so much about this disease: mainly how incredibly cruel it can be. I know now that when advanced it is pretty hard to cure, and so many lives have been lost this way. I know that treatments are still a bit shaky. And I know that melanoma does whatever the hell it wants to do.

With all this in mind, I have been, quite frankly, terrified by what may lie ahead.

Although I know the protocol's now; I know how to fill out hospital forms, who to ring, what to take, where to go, I'm even on first name terms with most of the nurses now (!), it just means that I know what will happen next. My initial biopsy is done, next is a CT scan, and then after that...we wait.

It is a weird and horrible feeling knowing that you have no control past the next two weeks. Even though none of us can be 100% what will happen tomorrow, we can optimistically plan for the future, and ignore the fact that illness is lurking behind a corner somewhere. In two weeks I could either be delivered wonderful news or devastating news, which could potentially change my entire life. It's almost like getting ready to jump out of a plane but not entirely sure if your parachute is going to work or not. Or more commonly when you pay at a shop with your card and you don't know if it is going to be accepted (but on a slightly higher scale ;))

BUT, before this happens, I have 2 weeks (well, 10 days now...) of ignorant bliss. 10 days to have fun, do nice things, treat myself and people around me, and to continue to do whatever I want to!

In someways, I think I'm incredibly lucky to have this perspective on life. Even though it feels a bit like a ticking bomb, it also makes me realise how much control we have over what we do, and what we want to achieve. I'm not saying I should be climbing mountains and running marathons every day (I wouldn't recommend that to anyone ;)) but I'm saying do what you want to do. If that is stay in bed and watch films-do it! If that is go out for meals-do it! If that is go out and buy two adorable Guinea Pigs-do it!!

Life is too short not to :)

My gorgeous bundles of joy that have been cheering me up all weekend :D

And an actual Happy Anniversary to my incredible boyfriend, without whom I would not have got this far :) xxxxx

The Next Step... (More photo's...)

The time between me having my operation and getting the results seemed to go really fast, but be never-ending at the same time. I attended Uni for most of it, and tried to carry on as normal. My results were scheduled for 17th March and when we went to get them, I was far from optimistic. I just had a feeling it wouldn't be good news, and as much as everyone tried to change my mind, I was convinced. And I wasn't wrong. 

When we went in, they didn't beat around the bush, and told me they'd found cancer in the lymph they'd removed. This really scared me, as the tumour itself had been gone for a good two months before my lymph operation, meaning that the cancer had just been sitting there, doing what it fancied, for two whole months. Quite a long time in cancer terms. The next step was another operation, an auxiliary clearance, to remove all of the lymphs from under my left armpit. I'm still getting to grips with what a huge operation this is. This was booked in for the next Friday (again, very speedy NHS!) and we were left with another week of waiting. I took this time to go home, to see my Nan, see my friends, and to take part in a talent show-why not!! 

The next Friday followed the same formation as the Wednesday almost exactly a month before. Nil by mouth, up at the crack of dawn. But this time I was taken straight through to the operation, meaning I was seen just after 8.30, so I didn't have hours to contemplate my thirst!! Even though I had a heavy cold, they went ahead (worth remembering!) and off I was taken to another room, administered more drugs, and sent into a blissful sleep, after an emotional goodbye to Mom and Rich. 

I woke up several hours later on a ward, incredibly groggy, more so than before, and attached to more bits of equipment then I could register. After trying to stay awake (and failing) and a rather uncomfortable encounter with a commode, I went off to sleep, without realising what hurt or why, but only after my whole body had been enveloped in really strange pins and needles which I was told was because of the weird positions I'd been put in that day. Nice. 

The next day was a different story. I was very sore, and very sleepy still. My armpit smelt really bad. I kept saying like Lasagne, but not that good. When I went to look at what was there, I was shocked by the size of the wound, and the massive cave under my armpit that my lacking-lymphs had left. Because of the nature of the operation, and all the excess fluid that would be floating around, I was fitted with a drain, which I was attached to, 24 hours a day. They put it in a little bag for me to carry around, and I actually became fond of this little bag! Each day was almost exciting to wake up to find out how much fluid was in there, as when it had dropped enough, I was allowed to have it out!! Alas, that was a lot slower than I had hoped (obviously!) 

The week in hospital wasn't, in hindsight, toooo bad-although I was begging to be let go in the end! I spent the week sleeping (lots) watching lots of telly and generally recuperating! I got up each day, had a wash, changed pyjamas and put my lenses in and awaited for the daily visit from the doctors-I wanted to retain some sort of normality!! I also met some real characters on the ward: Molly, who's husband had run her over, Jean, the lovely lady who had had cancer 4 times, but was in because of a bad leg, a woman called S. White which was funny, and all of the lovely nurses who laughed at me every day for having Earl Grey tea! Because the lymphs drain liquid, without them there is all this excess liquid that the body has to get used to getting rid of itself, so after the operation, One of the biggest excitements of each day was having my drain measured to see how much was being drained each day! 

After a week, I was let home, after lots of lovely visits from all sorts of people, and daily visits from my mom and Richard. However, I still had my drain in. For the next week I had to go back to the hospital every day to get my drain checked. After another week it was finally removed and I was shocked by how long the tube was! There was at least a foot of tube in my armpit!!! Where, I'm not entirely sure... A further 2 weeks passed, and then I got the results that the rest of my lymphs were clear. This meant that life could continue :) 

Morning after surgery:

Minus steri-strips

The delightful drain...

Drain site!

Minus staples and drain:

Scans, Surgeries and Sleep...(WARNING! Graphic photos...)

So, the next couple of weeks went by, until I had my first real taste of hospitals and tests on 17th February. I was scheduled in for a pre-operation check and a CT scan of my pelvis, abdomen and thorax-basically everywhere except for my arms, legs and head.

The time before this is very much of a blur to me-it's almost like a big void in time. I remember going home for the weekend, and Richard and I celebrating a very low-key valentines day with a 'dine in for £10' deal from M&S and my landlords moving me out of my room to rip my ceiling down, but apart from that it's pretty blank!

I arrived on the Thursday morning and was promptly poked, prodded and asked sufficient questions so that I was allowed to go into hospital. I then experienced my first ever CT scan. They are definitely an experience!! First, you have to drink this HORRIFIC substance. It tastes like watery, milky, orangy, chalk. With a bit of mint thrown in for good measure.




After you've sufficiently drank 800ml of this, the take you out and put in a canular so they can pump iodine into you while you're being scanned (this was the best bit, as after she'd put in my canular, she told me to go back to my boyfriend, who was actually my dad. Much hilarity ensued, and it seemed to be the general opinion that Castle Hill took of my dad....bit awkward when Richard was around, who they incidentally thought was my brother...) Then, you are taken through to. Nice big, airy, air conditioned room, and lay down on a little bed. Then you lie there, and are moved back and forward, while this big donut passes over your body several times, and thousands of pictures are taken. When they finally administer the iodine, it really does feel like you've wet yourself-your whole body goes really warm, and it is only because they warned me of this before that I wasn't too embarrassed to get up! (for the record, I hadn't wet myself). Then that was it! After 15 minutes of being pushed around in a tube, and 10 minutes waiting for the canular to be removed, I was set free, until the following Wednesday, when my surgery was scheduled for.

It had been agreed that my Mom would come up to Hull to stay with me post-operation so that she could look after me and do Mom-type things. She arrived over the weekend, ready for a shopping day on the Monday for some suitable post-operative clothes, pyjamas and skin products. On the Tuesday, I had to go back to the hospital to have some radioactive dye injected into the original site of my melanoma. The idea is that the lymph system drains this dye up to the related lymph, so it can be detected which lymph node cleans out that bit of skin. The thought process goes, that that lymph will be the first place the cancer has spread, so to test that node is the logical next step. If it has not spread to that node, it is unlikely it has spread anywhere else, but if it has spread, it is more likely it has and could be in further lymphs. If this is the case, a full auxiliary dissection has to take place...not what I wanted to happen at all. So I had this dye, and they x-rayed it to show that one lymph was linked to that piece of skin, and that was the lymph they would remove the next day. Tuesday night, we all went out for a meal, and prepared ourself for the next day. We were up at 5(!!!) to get ready for the hospital at 7.30. The hardest bit so far?? NIL MY MOUTH!! No tea, no coffee, no squash, not even water! Nothing was allowed in my mouth after midnight, and that was pretty bad. Especially at 7am... (it was even harder at 11.30..!) We all went to the hospital (Richard, Mom and Me), I checked in, and then I waited. Even though my operation was supposed to be early, by the time I was seen it was getting later and later. Richard had a rugby match to play in, so after I'd seen the anaesthetist and my surgeon, they left. I got all dressed up in my 'scrubs' and it was show time.

I was taken into a room and lay on a bed, where they took off my slippers and my glasses, leaving me all-but blind! There they inserted a canular into my hand, attached me to several monitoring devices (blood pressure, heart rate etc) and then pumped me full of something that made me drift off to sleep.

I woke up a few hours later feeling pretty numb, with my first question being 'have I had a skin graft?!' it had been something up in the air, and I was really hoping I hadn't...unfortunately I had. I was allowed to go home a few hours later where I settled down and slept for the majority of the next 48 hours. Groggy was definitely the word!

I had to wait three weeks before I had the results of my operation, which was testing to see if the cancer was in the local area (wider excision) and if it had spread to my lymphs. So they took a coffee-cup size chunk out of my arm, which needed a skin graft to heal (from my left thigh) and they also cut open my arm pit a little bit, to get at the lymph that had been detected with the dye. So needless to say, I was pretty sore. The wait for results was a long one, punctuated by visits from parents, friends, trips out, and lots of healing. The main grief I got was from my leg where the skin graft was, and where they warned would be the worst. After the first couple of days, it was weeping very badly and making a mess everywhere. After several bandage changes it sorted itself out though! My armpit was incredibly sore too, and I struggled to do anything with my left arm. The wider excision itself didn't really hurt at all, which made me think it wouldn't look too bad when I first saw it. Boy was I wrong.

I'd had several dreams about what it would look like, one being like meat and one like a box in my arm, but nothing had prepared me for what it would look like, and still to this day I am shocked by it. I honestly thought it was someone else's arm when the nurse began unwrapping the layers and layers of bandages and I saw a sponge sewed into my arm (as a pressure garment). As she unstitched it and pulled it off, I was dumbstruck at what was underneath...




And that was it...in all it's glory. It looked like prosthetics, and made me feel pretty sick!

That was accompanied by my arm pit...

And my skin graft site...



Lovely.

The next three weeks passed, with various other bandage changes and dressings-it was almost like having visitation rights to my own arm! And then we all waited with baited breath for the results...


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

The start...

I am incredibly pale. Fact. It is for this reason that I have never been on a sunbed. I have, of course, suffered from few rogue sunburns (who hasn't?!) and really hate the pain and discomfort of it. I knew if I went on a sunbed that the same thing would happen! I used to joke that I would burn if I even thought about the sun! I also kind knew that sunbed caused cancer, as I think most people do, but I was unaware that there were several types of skin cancer, varying in severity.

So when I found a lump on my left forearm which seemed to appear almost overnight, cancer was one of my last thoughts as to what it might be. In fact, I didn't really have any idea what it might be, so I went long to the doctors thinking that he would have a better idea. The doctor assured me there was nothing wrong with my new mole, but that he could refer me to a dermatologist for a second opinion, if I wanted him to. I thought 'yeah, why not' so went away and waited for my appointment. When it finally came through, it was for 21st December, 10 weeks after I initially went to the doctors. This was really inconvenient, as it was in Hull and home was 150 miles away, where I should have been at this point, having broken up for Christmas after the first semester of my music degree. When I tried to rearrange it, I was told that I would have to reapply for the appointment and I was incredibly close to cancelling it all together. I mean, I had been assured it was all ok, and this was just a precaution, and it seemed like a lot of fuss if there was nothing to be worried about, like the doctor had assured me. But after some wise words from my parents, I decided to go ahead with the appointment.

I waited for my appointment with life ticking on nicely and the mole not causing my any problems and remaining in the back of my head, apart from some hilarious mocking from my housemates, and referring to it as my 'third nipple'. It didn't cause me any hassle at all, until one day I caught it on some books and it bled like I have never seen anything so small bleed before in my life. At this point, some alarm bells began ringing. Strange looking mole-check. Growing-check. Bleeding-check. So back I went to the doctors, where I categorically asked him if he thought it was skin cancer, to be told that there was no chance of it being so. So back on with my life I went, waiting for my appointment, a further month away.

By the time my appointment came round, I was just ready to get rid of the unsightly thing on my arm.





I rocked up to my appointment, Mom and Nan in tow, to be told immediately that it was a 'pyogenic granuloma' and when I read about it afterwards, it made perfect sense. So the mole was removed, sewed up and I was sent on my way. End of story. Well, thats what I thought, but it was barely the beginning...

We went home for Christmas, and had a lovely time. On boxing day I went to my grandparents where I started to notice that the wound on my arm had started weeping and being generally unpleasant. I put it down to putting some moisturiser on it, as I was told to. But over the next few days it got nastier and nastier and at one point, the stitches started pulling through my skin. So In my boyfriends bathroom, me, him and his mom performed a DIY stitch removal with some nail scissors and tweezers, as they were just making the whole area worse. With these gone, the wound had a chance to start healing and eventually started to settle down. I had been told that if I didn't hear anything within a month, not to worry. So after a month of not hearing anything, just assumed there was nothing to hear. After another visit to the doctor to tell him of my concern that the wound was swelling up again, he told me it was probably just a stitch and to leave it be.

2 weeks later, on 3rd February, I got a phone call from the hospital saying that I needed to see someone ASAP about the results from the tests I'd had done. My immediate thought was that it meant I had cancer. But as I went through the day, I realised that I'd sent of some nail clippings from a weird toe I'd had forever, so managed to convince myself it was something to do with that. I rang them back, and they arranged an appointment for the next morning. I knew something had to be really wrong then-the NHS never move that fast!! Unless it's serious...

Lying awake that night, failing to fall asleep, I said to Richard that things would never be the same again, but I didn't know how right I would be.

The next morning we made our way to the hospital, arriving 30 minutes early for the appointment. When we got there, they took me straight through and sat me down-what happened to the hour long wait?! Being told you have cancer is like no other experience on earth, and something you can't really explain. It is the biggest combination of shock, fear, sadness and dread. The doctor who told me could probably do with a few lessons in bedside manner, as when I sat down he just blurted it out, then asked if I wanted my boyfriend with me (I've always thought the wrong way round!) I said yes, and in Richard was brought to be told the same news I had. I was completely speechless. I had vaguely entertained the thought that it might be cancer, but never had I thought it would actually be that. We sat in silence as appointments were made for me, facts were told. It was only when I was offered a coffee and given a leaflet on malignant melanoma that I started to realise what was going on.

We went home, both dumbstruck at what had just happened and I was faced with ringing my parents to tell them what was going on-not an experience I'd like to repeat. I had been given an appointment for the following Monday with my plastic surgeon, which my parents were going to come to, so we were sent home for a weekend of fuzziness. I was actually in the middle of rehearsing for a show, so not knowing what else to do, I went to all day rehearsals on the Saturday and the Sunday, before my parents arrived on the Sunday night. We stayed up late to watch the Super Bowl, but after that failed to grab my attention (how long does it go on for?!) I decided to go to bed, ready for whatever would happen the next day.

Our first trip to the hospital together as a family was certainly an interesting one. We were introduced to the plastic surgeon, Mr. Stanley, who explained what they had found, what it meant and what was going to happen next. The lump that they had removed was 4.08 mm thick, which put me in a high risk category for it having spread else where. The first place the cancer usually stopped off was your lymph nodes, which are under your arms, neck and groin. Therefore, I was to have a wider local excision (WLE) around the original mole and a sentinel lymph-node biopsy (SLNB) to see if it had indeed spread to the lymphs. This was all to happen after some blood tests, an admissions test and a ct scan...

Leaving the hospital on that cold February afternoon, we knew a very long road lay ahead of us, and none of us really knew what to expect...




Me and my amazing parents!





The most wonderful boyfriend I could ever ask for
-Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Overture

Hello everyone, and welcome to my blog :)

This year, 2012, after a particularly nasty 2011, I have promised myself that I am going to make it count. 2011 made me realise how fragile life really is, and that you only get one. This year I intend to do lots of things I have always wanted to, things I might not have ever considered and things that just take my fancy. This blog will serve as a kind of diary of what goes on, but also updates on treatment, reviews, anything that takes my fancy I guess! Through this blog, I hope to be able to give other people hope, that life CAN continue after a cancer diagnosis-and it can be a good one!

So, why was 2011 so horrific you may be asking??

Well, in February 2011, I was diagnosed with stage 3 malignant melanoma. What followed was an intense string of tests, scans, operations. My cancer story so far will be another post on here, so of you want all the gory details that is the place to look ;)

When it looked like the year couldn't get much bleaker, my beloved Nan, Floss, passed away at the end of October.

These events, along with witnessing the death of other acquaintances and having my eyes opened to the world of cancer and other suffered has made me determined to make the most of life, and try to get this message across to other people :)

That is enough rambling!

Take a look at my other posts as and when they arrive, and remember to make it count!

Love,

Phoebe x