Saturday, 10 December 2011

Happy Anniversary

The good news is I'm sort of tentatively working on a book born from this very blog. A few people have pointed me in that direction, and as cathartic as the blog has been, surely a book will be even more so, with some ego boosting and official 'authoring' thrown in. My agent (ooh!) has suggested I start from the beginning. Not remarkable in book terms, but since this blog hasn't particularly been chronological, I'm dredging my memory for how it happened in real time.

The first bit - the dreaded diagnosis - is basically impossible to forget. Reading the doctors faces before they've delivered the news, not really listening because the blood pumping in the ears situation makes it very difficult to hear.  I REALLY haven't forgotten. Not even a little bit, as much as I would have loved to. But JUST IN CASE, the god of sh!t timing has sent me a refresher course in the form of a shiny brand new bout of cancer. Even more poignant, since it came one day after the anniversary of my initial diagnosis, which anyone will tell you is a difficult day in itself.

So here I am again, holed up in my mum and dads house, awaiting tests, more tests and even more test results, already one operation down,  and yes, thoroughly very much absolutely um, not sure of the word here. I don't think there is one yet invented for the weird, jumbled, up n' down ness of such a quick recurrence.

The good news is it's not a massive shock compared to (EXACTLY) this time last year. I'm more p!ssed off, but that's far too mild a description. I went to a couple of weddings two summers ago, both of which broke down within 6 months. I felt a bit about them as I do about this - what was all the celebrating for then? I'd like a refund on my bar bill please, and I'll take that honeymoon contribution back as well thanks very much.

The worst bit is how tainted all the nice stuff seems now. What a waste. I don't think my dad can afford another hog roast for my new I'm All Better Party - and in actual fact, I don't want one. Scrap Christmas too while you're at it. From now on December officially sucks...


I have a little one for now: 'more blog fodder.'


  1. I am sending you an extreme amount of cuddles! I have been a huge fan of your blog since you started and I think you are such an amazing and inspirational writer, you've helped put a smile on a lot of people's faces, including me. I am so sorry and upset this is happening to you, so all I can recommend is hot chocolate, snuggly clothes and something good on telly. Keep fighting, you are amazing.

  2. Love you so much my angel, we move forward from yet another horrible week and borrow the quote Every action, has an equal and opposite reaction. We will live the most joyous times because of this shit we endure, make no mistake. Already looking forward to the days when we can look back and laugh about some of the funny things along the way.

    Hey, it's frickin cold outside anyway, couped up is good - and you'll have me under the blanket from tomorrow too! :-)

  3. Oh balls. So sorry to read this Sophie.

    You and the people around you are clearly amazing and i'm sending my bestest wishes. x

  4. Oh Sophie, I'm so sorry to hear this. How completely crap. Thinking of you and sending you all the positive, healthy thoughts I can muster.

  5. Oh no :( I'm so sorry to hear about this. I'm thinking of you loads right now xxx

  6. holy hell. I found it ironic we had the same anniversary date, and then felt sick after reading the rest of your posting. I'm incredibly sorry this is happening to you. From reading your blog, I've learned you have a great family and fiance, and they will get you through this. Plus, your incredibly strong and that is something you'll have to be. Sending happy healthy thoughts your way.

  7. This is truly sh!tty news, so sorry. Obvs I don't know you but I love your blog - you've made me laugh and cry and I've found much inspiration and comfort in your posts throughout this crappy journey we've been on together - I hope knowing how much you've helped others helps to get you through this crappy time but meltdowns, blubbing, days of feeling totally not brave, strong or positive are also completely allowed. Sending you a massive cyber-hug xoxo

  8. Fuckity fuck fuck fuck. No fair. I am speechless and so so sorry to hear this news (also knowing how empty such platitudes may sound...)

    You've got through the last year with such grace, positivity, honesty and beauty, I can only imagine this will continue.

    On your positive note, the book! Congratulations. Another bow to your superwoman costume, seriously. Didn't I predict it as well as the engagement?

    Love, i xxx

  9. Dear Sophie
    I've just started down the road you've already travelled and you inspired me to write my own blog. It's incredibly therapeutic so I thank you muchly for that. Keep loving, laughing and fighting. My very best wishes to you and yours xx

  10. *hugs* So not fair (I read lots, I ought to comment more).


  11. Oh Sophie, I'm sorry to read this! This is so crap. I've been following your blog since I got ill in July and you are an inspiration to me. The grace, humour and dignity with which you've faced this illness is truly amazing. You are not going to face this alone: if cancer were a competitive sport it would not be tennis but football, with your fantastic family and friends, and the people following your blog, all cheering you on. Your lovely finance puts it well; joy and good times roll will again. My dad said something similar to me when I was in agony with doxetaxatyl: 'This terrible time will pass and become part of your past and you will be able to resume and continue your lovely life and career with a new perspective and joy and enthusiasm.'

    I'm sending you warm wishes especially for the next few days of tests and results.


  12. It's hard to give life the benefit of the doubt sometimes, isn't it? Good luck over the next fews days and wishing you all the very best.