In Joy And Sorrow

Hello hello hello everyone. I hope you're comfy because I get the feeling this is going to be a long post, I needs myself a little ramble. Or rather a long ramble off a long cliff. Just when I thought I'd reached my how-many-bad-things-can-happen-in-one-week quota some more came wriggling out of the woodwork. Like, mega ones. There's someone unsavory person stood next to a fan throwing cow dung around and it all seems to be heading in my direction. And the direction of those I love. This week shall forever be known as cow dung week, even though that's far too light of a name for the gravel I've been swimming in this week. Oh, life. Hold onto your seatbelts because you're about to go for quite the ride...



As I mentioned in my last post my cancer soulmate Naomi passed away last week. It wasn't an unexpected death yet somehow felt devastatingly unexpected as she was one of those people that never seemed ill. I was lucky enough to see her not too long before she went off to the happy hunting ground and even then she looked well. Of course, a little doddery but what cancer patient doesn't look like that? There was still so much light in her eyes, it's just so hard for me to comprehend. But yeah, amazing doesn't even begin to cover it. There are people you meet through this illness that become your friend and you have a laugh and bla bla bla and there are people you meet that just blow you away and quickly fall into being one of your closest confidants. We managed to have so much in common and yet be such different people, both massive nerds, both old ladies stuck in young bodies, yet so different, Naomi, a polite young lady, and me, a gobby idiot. I'll never forget first meeting her. We were both fully clothed and stood next to a olympic sized swimming pool (see above). She asked me what I studied at uni. I said physics. She said she did maths. We looked at each other and did a half smile, half nod of appreciation to have found a fellow closet nerd. And that was it. The start of a wonderful friendship trapped in a world of uncontrollably dividing cells.



The thing that always struck me about Naomi was her faith. She was a very devout Christian but not like I had ever encountered before. As we all know while I am tolerant of anything that makes anyone happy, I'm not exactly the most religion friendly person. She really made me reconsider that. She was the first Christian I'd met that never had to sit you down and tell you her beliefs, never had to tell you what jesus said about this or that, never had to share any silly God pictures on facebook; her faith came through in every action she made and her impeccable manner. You could see that every single thing she did was done with care and love in mind. She lived in the way she believed and never deterred from that path, even in the incredibly horrible health circumstances she found herself in. This is why I can't be angry about her death, just sad. I know that she's gone into the arms of the god she followed and she'll be safe there. Until I arrive and get her into trouble :)



I guess I'll just find it very weird not having her around. And difficult. I just keep thinking of one of the last times I saw her, I went around to her house to play Quirkle and it was just such a nice chilled afternoon. Just one of those lazy days you wish could go on forever. I can't explain how lovely her presence was. And I'm not just saying this because she's dead, I know people will always try and paint this ridiculous perfect image of someone when they pass but Naomi was truly exceptional. I keep frittering between smiling and sobbing as I remember all the stupid things we did and how there won't be any more. The world, eh.

And then, just two days after that devastating news another death happened. This time it was Dan, someone you may remember from previous posts. Dan was one of the original three musketeers, back in the early days when there was just him, Jamie and I flying the flag for young people in the lonely Hallamshire. I first met him back in far flung 2009, he was in the room next door to me when I was having my transplant. I heard there was another young person around and sent him some Haribo in the general hope he'd be my friend (that sounds so sad typing it out loud). He got better but then relapsed a few months ago. The doctors at my hospital said there was nothing more they could do but him and his family started fundraising in the hope of finding another way to get him better, this lead to him having another transplant down in London and being in hospital solidly since Christmas. Sadly he was besieged by complications and lost his battle. Which is so horrible. Unexplainably so. To be cured and then come down again is horrendous.

But yeah, Dan was such a chilled, cool dude. He really was my complete opposite, quiet, unassuming. One of those people you really looked forward to bumping into because they were never miserable. As I've said a thousand times I find it so frustrating when you go into day ward and everyone's sitting there having a massive grumpy illness-off. Oh, I've had sixteen bone marrows today, well, I've had eleven thousand blood tranfusions and my head amputated and it's like shut up. He was just positive. Never irritatingly chirpy, never irritatingly gloomy, just this perfect balance of quiet optimism. Just got on with it. A brilliant, brilliant guy.

The most disturbing thing is that I'm now the only original member of the Hallamshire gang left. I'm sure you all remember the antics of Jamie, my ever cheeky friend who turned up to our first hospital meeting (somewhat illicitly arranged by one of the nurses) about two hours late and caused general havoc in the hospital until he passed away years back. And now Dan's gone too. And not even I'm in the complete clear. We really haven't done well as a trio, that bastard cancer really has some kind of grudge against us. Maybe it was all that KFC talk. But in the end cancer will never win because no matter how many lives he steals the memories of fun and parties will always go on. You can't kill all those moments of laughter inbetween the needles. SOZ CANCER YOU LOSE. Ahahaha etc. But jesus christ pancake mix. It's a thin line between this world and the next. The next is starting to look much more tempting and reassuring because of all the cool people hiding there. One more reason to not dear death and the happy hunting ground.

I was in hospital myself yesterday too. For once though, I wasn't alone, although in the worst possible way. My gran also had appointments in the Hallamshire at the same time as me so I had to take her to hers as well as taking myself to mine. She is a poorly soul. Yeah, the shit fan really is blowing my way kids. WHEEEEEEEE MORE PROJECTILE DUNG how I love the projectile dung. This can only mean good things are on the horizon though because the wind always changes direction and you get stuck like it. Or something. Every night has its day. Every hippo has its wallow.

Everything to do with the leukaemia was the same as always, Dr Snowden still thinks I should keep on the chemo and is pleased with my progress. I had all my bloods taken (and somehow ended up giving a stamp valuation in the process) and had all of the usual measurements and tests. The only thing of interest is my mysterious bump, I can't remember if I mentioned in previous posts but I have a little lump on one of my ribs which has been causing me mild amounts of worry. They think it's nothing to be concerned about and possibly related to that time I cracked a rib but with my MASSIVE AMOUNTS OF RADIATION medical history they're going to investigate further. I had an x-ray and have to go in for a further more in depth scan in a couple of weeks. Along with a bone marrow extraction. Double trouble. It doesn't seem to be anything sinister as it's very slow-growing, but still a little odd. Randombumpstanze. It never ends. None of this ever ever ends. And even when it ends it's never the end because the end retracts itself and surprises you with terrible things and you're dragged right back to the start. Like snakes and ladders with your life.

I just can't believe I'm alive and all these people are dead. I feel like I'm running a race I don't much want to win. Everyone's falling around you and you can't turn round to help them back up...

...Anyway, that's enough twaddle for one evening, as soon as my terrible analogies come out we know it's time to stop. In the name of love. Of you. I don't really know how I've held it together this week but I have and I'm staring longingly at the future with a faint glint of optimism. With the spirits of those gone haunting me forward it's hard to not want to enjoy life. Enjoy it too much. Roll around on the floor until I can roll no more. I have a lot of rolling to do on behalf of a lot of people. So do you. Think of everyone you've lost, find a sandpit and roll around in there until you reach Australia. Or Easter Island, or Siberia, or the Magic Roundabout in Swindon. Or the Luton ASDA car park. But wherever you end up, make sure you rolled with pride and party or there was never any point in spinning in the first place.

Goodnight from the midnight world,
Constanze the Great xXxXxXx

P.s I really can't stress how important it is to not stress. And live. I find it so sad how so many people I know get so wrapped up in the darkness of life that they forget to just twat around and eat too many sweets. Don't plan for tomorrow and don't be healthy, no amount of anything can protect you from the unknown. There's always some surprise waiting to slap you so eat all the bacon while you still can.