Nov 06, 2014

It's been quite odd to think that this time last year I was preparing for a course of events which would have such far reaching implications.

I wasn’t to know that my body wouldn’t be able to deal with the toxicity of the chemotherapy regime that had been selected for me, and that instead I’d have to have the infusions every week which would leave me with so little energy I would become a shadow of my former self.

I wasn’t to know that my hair would fall out over a period of weeks. I had thought it would happen straight away. I also wasn’t prepared for the uncomfortable wigs. In the end, I just wore cotton hats, or wooly ones when I was outside, no one really knew on the school run that I was bald.

I wasn’t to know that I would be told that I had a genetic abnormality which meant that my risks of getting breast cancer were increased from 1 in 10, to between 1 in 4 and 1 in 2. At least with this information we were able to make informed decisions about further surgery, and resulted in having a risk reducing mastectomy.

I wasn’t to know how wonderful Ross would be. He stepped up to pretty much do everything associated with TeamRJ whilst my energy levels dropped to all time lows. I know he found it tough at times, but he was always able to call on the Gin Club Dad’s to go for a cheeky pint and bend someone’s ear. Or just talk about normal things. Normal is so underated. Love you. x

I wasn’t to know how brilliantly the Bairns would deal with everything. Despite having the rug pulled from under them, they have been fantastic. Imogen and Felix got star reports at the end of the school year, and have settled into the new school year well. I have always been a believer in that things are only scary if you don’t understand them. They knew I went to hospital every Friday for Chemo and come home and go to sleep. This worried them. So, they came with me a few times. They saw what happened, a small needle inserted into my port and then bags of what looked like water dripped in. No big deal. No longer scary. They skyped me when I was in hospital after I’d had my surgery, and they came to see me when I was feeling up to it. They make me so proud and I love them so much.

I wasn’t to know a lot of things, and to be honest, some of them, I might have been happy not to know. But I’m here, I’m ok and that’s what counts.

There’s a lot of 1 year anniversary’s happening over the next few weeks. 1 year since I had my port implanted, 1 year since I had my first chemotherapy and herceptin, 1 year since I was in A&E with horrific chest pains caused by the chemotherapy, the list goes on. Anyone who has spent any time with me over the past year will know that it hasn’t been plain sailing, it hasn’t been a walk in the park, but neither has it been all completely horrific. There’s been good times along the way, and to each of you who has supported us, I offer my heartfelt thanks.