The Cancer Survivors Club Read Online Free PDF

I really hated. It was like a military operation, with everything timed to the hour. Dad and Lowri would take me to hospital on a Sunday and hold my hand while the injections were given. We even talked about things like what McDonald’s meal we’d have on the way home, which I know wasn’t healthy, nor did I feel like eating, but it helped distract me from the pain a little.
    After the first two weeks of treatment, I was asked if I wanted to be admitted to hospital; I replied with a big emphatic ‘No’. Driving to the hospital was exhausting and I spent most of the twenty-minute journey with my head in a bowl, but it was still much better than staying in hospital. I found that having to get out of bed, get washed, dressed and out of the house every day really helped me stay active and positive. This I appreciate isn’t an option for everyone.
    By now, I was constantly feeling nauseous. I had to focus hard for an hour or so, in order to make myself want to eat. My poor mum would cook a meal she thought I’d like, then by the time it was ready I’d start feeling sick again. During this month, my diet pretty much consisted of lots of water and chicken Super Noodles. It was the only food I could eat without it making me feel ill and the only meal I could really taste. Not even a McDonald’s would do the trick. It was so hard sometimes to eat when I felt so poorly; I couldn’t taste anything for a start. However, I just kept telling myself I needed food and fluid to survive when I was healthy, so I certainly needed it now. My family were so supportive and constantly reminded me to eat, which I eventually managed to do most days.
    My hair slowly started to fall out. I remember Mum, Lowri and a friend washing it over the bath. So much of it was falling out, to be honest, I think it was harder for them than me. I’d already accepted this was going to happen so it wasn’t too upsetting really.
    Towards the end of the four weeks of chemotherapy, I decided to buy a wig. I had two; one was free from the National Health Service (NHS) and the other we bought. I ended up only wearing them once. The day I brought the wigs home I decided I should shave off all my remaining hair. I wasn’t devastated; I actually just looked in the mirror and laughed. Looking back, it was an unusual situation to say the least. My friend Natalie was shaving my hair while Dad was hoovering my head. I didn’t want to make a mess on the floor. This really makes us all laugh now when we reminisce about my treatment. I didn’t feel comfortable wearing the wigs, so I finally decided not to wear them.
    The day after I finally finished my second chemotherapy regime, I had yet another appointment at the hospital. Here I was told all about the bone marrow transplant and what was involved. By my having a bone marrow transplant, the doctors were able to give me very high doses of chemotherapy and radiotherapy too. The doctor explained that bone marrow is the spongy stuff inside our bones and it makes our blood cells. As the high-dose chemotherapy kills off the bone marrow, they need to put the marrow back. This is done like a blood transfusion through an intravenous drip. I had no idea what a transplant was until then, but was shocked when the consultant said it would be done in just three weeks’ time. This news scared me but I thought the sooner it’s done, the sooner my nightmare would be over. I was to have two days of intense chemotherapy and four days of full-body radiotherapy, twice a day in the morning and evening. My consultant was incredible and explained every last detail to us in the meeting; we were there for what felt like hours. During the meeting, I was told there was a very high chance my ovaries could be destroyed by the chemotherapy and radiotherapy. So a fertility doctor kindly met me and arranged for my eggs to be harvested and frozen. I had injections every day, which Dad quickly learnt