No pain, no gain... or loss!

I am lazy.

Don't get me wrong- I have a strong work ethic, will always try my best and will do anything for anyone in need- but when it comes to getting my butt off of the sofa in my free time?   Hmmm... maybe later.  I am overweight- not dangerously so, but my BMI is not in the healthy range!  I'm fairly happy with the way I look.  We'd all like to change something about ourselves, if I could click my fingers and drop a few dress sizes I absolutely would- but that's just it... it doesn't work like that!

I work hard all week- long hours, busy days and whilst I may not be on a building site doing physical work all day long, I often leave the office tired but satisfied that I have earned my salary.  Mr T and I usually make it home around 8pm from Brentwood.  Officially we finish at 5.30pm, however this is rarely the case- but we don't begrudge the extra hours to get a job done well.  By the time we make it home, the sofa calls... feet up, tv on, dinner and a chat and before we know it we're both nodding off.  When the weekends arrive we'll often eat out together- this is something we love to do and look forward to.  The goblins arrive and we go out and about but they also spend a fair amount on time on games consoles so we find ourselves back on the sofa.  We have pretty much had this routine since we got together, so fast forward 3 or so years and here we are... not overly fit or healthy- but very happy.

My Dad is training for a sponsored walk.  Not your usual potter along the seafront- he's signed himself up for a gruelling 40 mile uphill hike- see his blog for details (http://shortfatbaldblog.blogspot.com/).  He started training 3 weeks ago.  I realise that I need to be healthier and set an example to the goblins as well as for my own sake... so I joined him.  We walk as fast as is sustainable and we head for every available uphill climb.  Not only is it nice to spend time with the old man, but it gives me the much needed push I need to get my lazy arse in motion!  We have been out for 3 consecutive Saturday trecks now- the first, 8.5 miles, the second 12.5 miles and today a little over 8 miles.  My Dad is fit and healthy and has always been active- I am very proud of him.  He has helped many in his lifetime to achieve their fitness goals, best known for his martial arts skills, kick-arse sensei and general all-round bloody nice bloke.  He visits the gym daily and follows a sensible fitness regime to keep him in good health.  This man is my hero and I aspire to be like him in so many ways.  His enthusiasm and determination have managed to drag me out of bed and out into the cold bright and early every Saturday morning to get my blood pumping, muscles aching and fresh air in my lungs.  The thought of 12 miles of pain is enough for me to dive into a packet of crisps or a cosy warm bed- but the thought of making my Pa proud sees me reaching for a banana and heading out the door to train.

If I can do it, anyone can- as I said before, I am lazy- no denial here!  If I manage to drop a few dress sizes in time, fantastic.  All the more so because I'll know I've worked for it rather than just starved for it.  It hurts, but in a healthy 'used muscles' way.  It feels good to have achieved something every week, no matter how tired or run down I feel and now when I do sit on the sofa I don't feel guilt, it feels deserved!

Little things can make such a difference.  If you can, walk instead of drive.  Carry those bits upstairs now, don't pile them all up for later.  Take the stairs two at a time.  Switch off the tv and take a stroll.  Get some music on and dance! Anything to get that heart rate up, just little but often can make a difference and now is so much easier than later.

No pain- no gain!

Beauty... skin deep?

I am 27 years old.  Until about 3 years ago, I have always felt uncomfortable in my own skin.  As a child, I was slim, energetic, bright- but painfully shy.  I had a problem with my front teeth so I was too afraid to smile.  I hated talking to grown-ups and I didn't easily make friends, always too afraid to join in.  Nothing my parents did could change it, it's just the way I was made.  I grew into an awkward teenager, although I had plenty of friends by then I never felt I 'belonged'.  Food was my enemy and for a few scary years I battled with some serious issues, starving myself of the nutrients my body needed to grow healthily in an effort to be thinner, to fit in.  I can remember my Mum saying, as she force fed me chinese food, "you may hate me now, but you'll thank me years from now when you're still alive".  Mum- you were so right, thank you.  I owe you my life in so many ways!


In my late teens I was diagnosed with Crohn's Disease.  For those unfamiliar with this illness, it is a bowel disease, incurable, but treatable with ongoing medication.  It was very debilitating for a number of years, making my A-levels almost impossible to sit and rendering me housebound.  My friends and family were amazing, I was never alone and slowly but surely, with a cocktail of medication helped me back to health. I lost so much weight with this illness, the former me would've been proud- but looking in the mirror was painful.  I looked ill.  I was bony and pale and my skin was sore and broken, my hair falling out.  It took a long time to rebuild my self-esteem to it's previous already low level and get back out there to live a 'normal' life.
Today- I am healthy.  My Crohn's has now been in remission for a year- the future is looking bright.  I have put on more weight than I should over the last few years, my skin has good and bad days much like the rest of the female population.  I have fat days, bad hair days, 'I have nothing to wear!' days- but everyday I feel content with me.  My husband is a big part of this- he appreciates me just the way I am, as I do him, and every day he makes me feel special and loved.  I finally feel comfortable in my own skin, with who I am.  i sing with a band- don't get me wrong, I see and hear the talent of my band mates and I'm envious... but I also give myself a pat on the back and say, 'You know what? You're up there doing it.  Give yourself a break, you're doing ok'.  I'm no longer afraid to get up and sing my heart out for all to hear.  I choose clothes that flatter my shape, because for now, this is how I look so I'm going to make the most of it.  I may have a big bum, but my boobs are fab!  I have tattoos- more than the average lady, but each one of them means something to me- has a happy memory attached and I love them- no matter what other people may think.  They make me feel beautiful when I'm doubting myself and feeling 'plain'.

Love yourself, so others can.  Appreciate the good bits, don't dwell on the negatives.  You can be and do whatever you want to- don't be put down. 

Please leave me a comment- what makes you feel good about yourself?  It's ok to say it out loud! x

Man's Best Friend

Mackie is a 2 year old pedigree chocolate Labrador.  Although cheeky, strong willed and a bit slobbery, she is beautiful, smart and loyal- a real character that you can't help but love. 

Mr T and I brought her home as a tiny helpless pup and fell instantly in love with her.  We faced 'toilet training'- this was a painfully slow process, but hey, she cracked it!  We got through the teething months (many, many months)- razor sharp little pegs gnawing at your fingers, toes, clothes... the big strong teeth that followed, gnawing on... well... the entire house.  We lost floorboards, carpet, furniture, so many shoes- even bricks from the walls!  If it came loose, she chomped on it.  We faced the sleepless nights of howling and whimpering from the pathetic little creature that needed to be with her pack... right in the bed beside us, in fact.  We tackled puppy bootcamp, learning to 'Sit', 'Give paw', 'Roll-over', 'Put my shoe back', 'Please stop barking', 'We need to get back in the car now...'- I guess we trained each other!  The hard work was so worth it- she's a bit older and she is the most kind natured, loving dog you could ever meet- if still a bit noisy- and we simply love her.

Since bringing home that adorable pup, our lives have changed quite a lot.  With a change in career, comes a change of hours.  The working days were getting longer, time with my best friend Mack was getting shorter.  Ever the perfect companion, she greeted us lovingly at the door day after day, always pleased to see us (and I always imagined to "finally have someone open the door so I can peeeee!"), never destructive, or badly behaved- just there.  Mr T and I are also in a band, so along with the long working week, we also have rehearsals and gigs- yet more alone time for poor Mack.  Other than the odd extended game of fetch, she never wanted anything from us but our time- the one thing we didn't have to spare.  Whilst she never played up, we really felt the guilt of this sociable, lovable pup all alone for so much of her time.  Don't get me wrong- we engineered a fellow couch potato in our Mackie, happy to snooze all day long if needs be- but we knew in our hearts that this was not the life she deserved.  We made the heartbreaking decision to rehome her when the perfect home appeared.  She would have company every day, a fellow pup of a similar age to play with, long walks come rain or shine- we couldn't say no.

After brief visits to both our home and theirs, we dropped Mackie off for our final goodbye.  I did not expect such pain and heartache.  Mr T and I were inconsolable as we made our way home.  We opened the door to our empty house- a home no more.  No greeting, no familiar noises, no scuffle to get in to the hallway... just nothing.  The house looks bare without her and her things.  Our whole routine is gone- our lives were centered around her.  I dread the day when Mr T is out and I am home alone- because I really will be alone.  No pup laying at my feet, shadowing me around the house, pestering me to go in the garden every few minutes.

So the house will be clean and tidy- it may even stay that way until the goblins are around.  We have the freedom to come and go as we please- we've booked a little weekend away and have been able to stop off for dinner on the way home from work- a luxury we couldn't afford with Mack waiting to be fed and watered!  But I'd take it all back in an instant.  I'd give anything to have her come trotting in from the garden, rain soaked and covered in mud and jump on the sofa beside me!

I know it will get easier in time and we are trying hard to focus on how much happier she will be in her new home.  We've seen her with her little partner in crime, bouncing around the garden, just the way it should be.  We know we did this for all the right reasons and she will live a longer, happier life as a result.  We will build new routines and get back to some sort of normality. 

But she has left a huge space in my heart, in my life- I will always miss my best friend.  Always.

The results are in...

Firstly- I've been overwhelmed by the support from my last blog- thanks to everyone for your kind words.

It's been a tough time since going in for my op.  Recovery has been slower than I expected- it turns out I'm not a very good patient!  I love the thought of sitting around watching my favourite programmes and reading a good book, but the reality of it... not so great.  I'm not good at being told 'don't do that', it makes me want to do it all the more.  I realise that this advice is for my own benefit, but those that know me, I'm sure will agree, that I'm quite stubborn.  If I've got my mind set on something, there is very little that can or will stop me.  This, however, stopped me; I've been forced to rest whether I wanted to or not!

But I'm on the mend, back at work and generally feeling quite well.  In fact I popped along to my doctors' surgery this evening to collect a 'fit to return to work' certificate.  I knew my results weren't due until later this week, but on the off-chance I asked if they had heard anything.

"I'll check- one minute..."

Longest... minute... ever!

"Yes, they're here.   It's fine."

Me with a blank expression- "What's fine?  You have my histology results?  What does 'It's fine' mean?"

Honestly, I may as well have been asking for the results of a spelling test!  But I read the notes and saw for myself- everything was ok.  In short, they have removed the abnormal cells and surrounding tissue.  There is no sign of invasive cancer and I have to go for a re-test in 6 months to check for further abnormalities.

I can't explain how relieved I am.  Mr T and I have tried our best to avoid the possible outcome of these results but it has hung over us like a dark cloud.  It's there every hour of every day.  Every decision, every plan we made- it factored into the equation.  It turns out that everything is going to be ok- and believe me when I tell you that I am so grateful, we both are- but I can't help but think of how it could have been.

I've spent time looking into the possible treatments had the outcome been different.  It's heartbreaking to think that for some women, this is the reality.  The choices that these women have made, are making now and will have to make in the future are just incredible and my heart goes out to them.  I will always give what I can to Cancer research charities and I will raise funds for this cause when the opportunities arise.

I've had some lovely messages as a result of my blog and I'm so pleased to say that some women have said that after reading my story they have gone to get themselves checked.  If this is you- thank you and well done.  If you're thinking 'I really should go, it is overdue' please go.  Pick up the phone, get it booked and just go- for peace of mind if nothing else.  The sooner anything out of the ordinary is picked up the sooner it can be treated and you can carry on as normal.

This has been such a wake up call.  I intend to look after myself, to overcome the reluctance to put myself in uncomfortable situations if it is for the sake of my health.  I'm one of the lucky ones.  I'm at risk, so I will continue to get myself checked and keep myself safe- I hope you all value yourselves enough to do the same.

Girl stuff- What if..?

As many of you will know, I've just been into hospital for a small procedure.  This is forcing me to put my feet up and rest- not so bad, I'm sure you'll agree.  However, the down-side is that it is also giving me time to think.

To put you in the picture, I'll tell you how I came to this stage.  These things are rarely talked about- even in this day and age I suppose it's a little 'taboo' to discuss intimate issues- but here goes.

I was visiting my GP for little more than a sore throat and an annoying cough.  The surgery I go to is very handy in that it is open late evenings and weekends- I work long hours and not exactly on my doorstep- but because of this I don't recall ever seeing the same doctor twice.  It just happened that the doctor I saw this time round was very approachable- not one of those 'you're wasting my time!' types that can't get you out of the room fast enough.  Don't get me wrong, it's a tough job and they must see so many time wasters, but sometimes you just need to be comfortable enough to talk about things- so here I was.  He must have sensed that there was something more I wanted to share, prompted by 'how are you, generally..?' type questions which led me to confess that things weren't quite right.  I'd been feeling very run-down for a long time, which was never particularly unusual as I have Crohn's Disease and this goes with the territory.  However, my Crohn's, thankfully, has been in remission for quite some time and things had been much better of late... well, until the last month or so.  I explained that as well as the tiredness, I'd been having irregular periods and 'unusual' bleeding.  Whilst embarrassing and disruptive, I hadn't given it too much thought, but it was beginning to play on my mind- but once I'd 'confessed' all I felt a little better, relieved I suppose!  My doctor suggested I booked in for a smear test, just in case, but advised that it could be a number of things and not to worry.

So reluctantly, I booked myself in for the following week- I'm never good at these things and I must confess it was more than a little overdue...

A week later, the test was over and done with in a matter of minutes- really, what was I so worried about?!  The nurse advised that I'd hear back within a couple of weeks and I would be contacted about the results.  That's that then.

Within a week a letter arrived to say that there were abnormalities shown in my results and that I was required to attend a colposcopy at the hospital.  It said 'severe diskaryosis'.  I'll admit, the bit that I read and re-read was 'severe'.

Well, that was a bit scary.  I'm not sure what I'd expected, I had been trying not to think about it, but here it is.  That 'something's not right' feeling again.  Mr T was brilliantly supportive, as always.  A quick call to Mum also put my mind at rest- 'you hear about these things all the time, it'll be something and nothing, don't you worry'.  So I didn't.

Along I went for my colposcopy examination- mildly uncomfortable and a little embarrassing- it's not the most natural thing in the World now is it ladies!  For those of you that are lucky enough not to know, here's a quick summary- whip your pants off, pop your legs in the air and we'll have a look with this here camera (it's tiny, don't panic!).  Not pleasant, but not unbearable- half an hour and it's all over with, I promise.  My consultant reassured me that from what could be seen, there were mild abnormalities only and no treatment was necessary.  Hoorah!  A little biopsy was taken (ouch, but again, all over before you know it) and I'd have my results in 6 weeks.  I went out celebrating my 'lucky escape' with the girls the following weekend.

6 weeks!  They're obviously not in any hurry and no news is good news so they say.  Only, 6 days later I received a call at home.  The results had shown the abnormalities to be more serious that they had suspected.  They had diagnosed CIN 3 and would like me to confirm available dates for treatment.  Mr T and I had our wedding just around the corner, but they explained that I couldn't travel for 6 weeks after treatment- we didn't even know what 'treatment' was!  Mild panic set in, we tried to bring the whole wedding forward, but the honeymoon couldn't be rearranged without paying the cost all over again.  Absolute chaos.

Eventually, after speaking with my consultant, we decided that we would move the actual wedding day forward but leave everything else as it was.  What was most important to us right then and there was to be married- to be happy- and let everything else wait.  So we did.  The consultant made me promise to book in for treatment as soon as we were back from our Honeymoon.

So here we are- I've just been in for my cone biopsy, now I'm home resting... and thinking.  The lead-up to the wedding left no time for thought!  We've been so very busy, so much to do, the dust is finally settling.

And I'm scared.

I have a two week wait for my results.  Then, hopefully, I'll be told that they've removed the abnormal cells and everything is going to be ok.  I'm aware that there will be regular screening and monitoring now I'm 'at risk', but that's a good thing.  But I can't escape that 'what if' feeling.  What if it's not all over.  What if when my results are back from histology they find out that it's more sinister?  What if it's the 'Big C'?  What if I can't have children?  I've always just assumed that it's my right to decide.  Everything could change.

Many people have sent well wishes and asked how I am- and I genuinely appreciate it.  I will always say I'm fine, because that's what people need to hear, and mostly- I am fine.  But just sometimes, the what-ifs creep up on me.  Any ladies reading this can help- get yourselves checked.   Put up with the embarrassment and look after yourselves- regularly.  Don't put it off like I did, it's not worth the worry, not worth the 'what-ifs'!  Gents, if you're still reading- well done, and prompt the ladies in your life to look after themselves. 

So many things can be prevented if we just do the little things available to keep us healthy.  Stop putting it off- be safe, be healthy and live the longest happiest life you can.

I'm sure I'll be just fine and of course I'll keep you all posted- I just wanted to share, honestly, with you and hope to make a difference to maybe just one person thinking, 'Ah, I'll sort it out next week'.

Sister, Sister

I grew up with my Mum and Dad and my two sisters.  I am the 'middle child'.  When we were much younger, we were very close- most of the time, inseparable.  These days, sadly, we are no longer so close.  It's understandable, we all have our own lives to lead, there are never enough hours in the day.  Both of my sisters have children of their own and little free time- I am proud of them both.  I work long hours during the week and my weekends are occupied by the goblins.  I wish it were only time that prevented us from being so close.  Sadly, as we've grown, our opinions have changed, we've all developed very different personalities and beliefs.  We no longer finish each others' sentences and swap clothes- we tend to catch up via our parents if at all.

Families are complicated.  No matter what happens, you never stop loving them.  They have the ability to frustrate and infuriate you, to hurt you and embarrass you.  Equally they can love and support you, make you laugh until you cry.

The one thing my sisters and I will always have in common (other than our parents... duh) is our sense of humour.  The same things will always make us chuckle, or laugh out loud uncontrollably.  If ever my sisters and I are going through a tough patch, I take comfort in the little things that I say or do that make me think (Huh... she would understand!) when nobody around is amused.  I remember the happy and silly times spent together and look forward to happier times that I know will follow- because, well, we're sisters!

Whether we let our guard down and say it, or whether we're stubborn and don't- we know we'll always love and care about each other.  If we hear that one or other is having a tough time, we think well wishes and send positive 'hugs', if only in our heads.  We still care.

I was recently reunited with my younger sister after some troubled times.  She may be a pain at times but I'll always need her.  I'm pretty sure she feels exactly the same way!  I hope one day to have my big sister in my life again too, but whether we speak daily, or only at Christmas, she'll always be my hero.

One thing is for sure- time is short and we should all make the most of it.  I adore my family and I often wish my Mum would affectionately utter her famous line from my childhood, "If you girls don't get along nicely I'll bang your heads together!"

If only it were that easy!

I guess my point is- Zoe, Bex- I love you.  You know where I am x

In loving memory

At some time in our lives, we all have to say goodbye to somebody.  If you're lucky, it's just for a while, and they'll come back to you again.  Sadly, the most memorable goodbyes are to those that we aren't to see again in this lifetime- I however, am sure that at some point, we will once again reunite.  I don't believe in heaven or hell or anything written in any book or preached to the masses.  I just believe that life doesn't just stop.  I never have the words to comfort or ease the pain of those in need- particularly if I am hurting too.  I suppose there are no words, only time.

It often feels as though the World has come to a stop, it's hard to just carry on when nothing seems to matter as much- but carry on we must.  If we really think about it, I'm sure the ones we've lost wouldn't want us to wallow in sadness.  I know for sure that those I hold dear that have had to leave would not accept this behaviour for long at all and would pack me up and send me on my way, on to the next adventure, to the next smile.  I find comfort in the happy memories left behind, the shared laughter, the stories retold again and again because they leave me feeling warm and no longer so empty.  I find comfort in the fact that they will always be with me in some way- a song that reminds me of a happier time, a scent that brings me right back to a hug, an advert on tv, a passing stranger with a familiar face- so many things that will always remind me of the ones that I miss.

Every time the sun shines through on a cloudy day- I feel those people smiling at me, being happy that I am happy, being proud of the things I do right and laughing along with me when I do things wrong.  Every special moment in my life- I don't feel that they are missing them- they are right there with us when it matters.  When I am down and struggling to find these comforts and I feel the pain of loss once again- something or someone will always happen along to help me up... I truly believe that they are right there too, pushing me along, willing me to carry on and enjoy our precious time here.

Live, love, share, forgive- life really is too short, it will be what you make it.  Don't regret the things you haven't done, appreciate the things you have.  I hope these words are of some comfort to any of you feeling a loss, but if not, please give it time, keep going- you will smile again.

In loving memory of all those that I have loved and lost.