Just Some Happy Thoughts

Just been thinking, I keep remembering some of the positives I missed off the list from the positive thinking (ish) post. So here they are. How could I forget these?..

1. Never having to shave or wax anything
 How could I gloss over this gift from the chemo gods? I truly realise the joy since developing a love of ankle grazing trousers, as part of my wardrobe overhaul. Even though I get up 2 hours before I have to leave for work, I'm always rushing for my taxi 5 minutes before it gets here. It's nice to know I can grab anything in my wardrobe and wear it without the extra, and often painful, bathroom time. Ankles showing? NO problem. Vest top? - yes I can hold onto the overhead bar on the tube, no problem! Emergency bikini situation? Er, I haven't come across one of those yet, but I'm safe in the knowledge it'll be NO problem...

2. Well there were a number of positives in that no. 1 positive I just picked up on, so:
- Wardrobe overhaul - fun!
- Getting up 2 hours early. This sounds like a negative, but its because I'm waking up fresher, without the need of an alarm - no hangovers, no instant lethargy from steak digestion etc.
- Taxi. I'm a sucker for a lazy journey to work. Compromised immune system means public transport is out for a week, and I don't have to feel frivolous for abusing my Addy Lee app. Like I say - medical necessity.

3. Two of my very good friends have given up smoking since and because of my D-Day. And found it pretty easy too. Yey!

4. Katie Selby is leading a load of my friends, her friends and girls from the office in the Race For Life this summer. I (no longer) secretly think they're mental, but I'm VERY proud of all of them. I'm happy also I have an excellent excuse not to take part.

5. I have a new found extreme excitement for lots of little things.
The strangest being when I start to feel better after chemo week. I get so excited by not feeling rubbish, its almost worth feeling rubbish for. Almost. Shopping - so exciting! Cooking - exciting! Fresh Air - mm, exciting! Sunshine - tra la LA exciting.

6. Not having to do everything
Its a bit of a bonus getting out of the washing up on a regular basis let me tell you.

7. Realising what's important in life. Its kind of sad that it takes something like cancer to put my own head into perspective - I'm not sure if its the same for everyone - but from realising how fantastic some of my friends are, to seeing my family much more, to knowing that not being able to find my keys does not require a full-blown sit-down protest.

Any more peppy ideas, please comment below xx

Wig Wobbles...

...I've had a few, too many to not mention. I know I'm exceptionally lucky to be in the position to have some excellent wigs and wig advice thrown at me by very good expert friends.  Nevertheless I was weirdly nervous to wear my first one, I thought I'd be rubbish at it. I'm not sure how you come to be rubbish at wig-wearing, but I'm pretty sure I don't think straight a lot of the time - I'll put it down to an under publicised side effect of chemotherapy.

I think its the self-consciousness of it. I know I'm wearing a wig (it feels like a hair hat, which instinctively makes me want to take it off whenever I go indoors. I sit on my hands in restaurants just in case), so I think everyone can tell. I'm pretty much over that now, but there have been many wig wobbles along the way.

DadJokes found it a bit hard to get used to too. He knows what my real hair looks like (not as good to be honest) and this was different, so kept trying to 'fix' me. I know his intentions were lovely - like telling someone their jumper is on inside out, you'd rather know right? - but me being hyper sensitive of anyone being hyper aware, I found it upsetting that he wasn't just telling me it looked amazing all the time.

The fact was it didn't look amazing all the time, because I hadn't broken it in. I didn't know you had to, I'm not sure anyone really does, but me being a beauty editor perfectionist, I have now found various methods to make mine look broken in - i.e like real hair.
My best one is this (more to follow)
The wig roots were too perfect (its the way they're sewn in) so I kept thinking my hair looked like a helmet. Needless to say no one else did, but I'm a worrier. So I took random sections (don't tong the whole parting, leave 'flat' gaps) and tonged them just at the parting to lift them up. Once I'd shaken them through and added some salt spray they completely changed the look of the whole thing, to the extent DadJokes stopped it with the fixing and started asking me how to get my hair looking as good as the wig when it grows back.

My experience is just with real hair wigs so far, so when I get my hands on a synthetic one, I'll keep you posted with my trials and doubtless, many errors. In the mean time, I consulted Charles Worthington, the Honorary Vice President of Look Good...Feel Better, and his far superior knowledge. These tips are from the LGFB Confidence Kit (which everyone going through this should get btw).

PROFESSIONAL ADVICE

1.      ' Colour:  choose a shade that complements your skin tone; for a natural look, go slightly lighter

rather than darker as the change will be less noticeable'

I went for my natural colour at first. I now realise the need for lighter. Today I am wearing it and, since it's 17.00 and I'm not my pigmented best, I look like Michael Jackson. Back from the dead.

2.      ' Finish:  When choosing a synthetic wig, it’s best to avoid those with a very high gloss shine, particularly if you want it to go unnoticed'

      I even add dry shampoo to my real-hair wig - my own was always on the scruffier side, so perfect hair feels like a flashing sign on my head that says 'WIIIIG!!!' 

3.       'Length:  always choose a wig longer than the style you want to achieve to allow scope for it to be cut into shape on your head'

4.      ' Size:  choose a size that feels comfortable and secure; if your hair has not yet fallen out, the wig should be quite ‘snug’ so that it fits well later on – or even better, try to find an adjustable wig'

        My Michael Jackson wig is adjustable, which is fantastic, except today I brushed it vigorously before I left the house, was late to a meeting, had said meeting, then met a PR friend for coffee before I realised I'd  unstuck the velcro and my hairline had travelled a couple of inches south. I wondered why my head felt so light on the journey in.

5.       'Cut:  consider having your new wig cut professionally to individualise it and enhance your natural features; small touches such as trimming and taking the weight out of a fringe can make a huge difference'

6.      ' Styling:  the best styling tool for wigs is your hands. Running your fingers through the wig to break up the hair will give it a natural finish. Wide toothed combs are also good'

        The best styling tool for my wig is Katie Selby. I am seriously rubbish at doing my own hair (I use 'own' in the sense of possession, rather than home grown) so I highly recommend an adept friend who can sleep over and is magic with curling tongs.

Happy (Buckwheat Banana) Pancake Day

On Shrove Tuesday last year, Katie and I very bravely gave up all chocolate and sweets. Me, not so up on my Christian religion, thought it would be one month. Six weeks nearly killed me. This year there isn't actually anything 'bad' left to give up in my diet, so I may have to give up moaning about it instead. So let me tell you about the food thing...

This is a tricky one to tackle: We all know how women can have a tumultuous relationship with food. I'm being hideously generalistic, and I never would have said I had one of those relationships (I NEVER diet, I love eating too much, I would just be thinner but depressed), but I can't pretend I don't delight a little bit in any kind of weight loss - even gastric flu induced. And since I am a relatively normal female, I am confident in assuming most women reading this will feel the same. Even secretly.

Since this is a loosely looks based blog, it's important to at least touch on an unexpected side effect of my treatment (in a round about sort of way): I have dropped two bloody dress sizes.

I don't think I needed to (previously a 10-12 - women will never just say a 12, but going through my wardrobe, most of the clothes I've had to pack away did have that on the label...), and I know a lot of people put weight on (I am only half way through treatment, I'm still expecting several other surprises to add to the list), but my own control freakishness has resulted in this - I'll be honest - not unhappy outcome.

First let me say, I am NOT recommending weight loss before or during treatment, in fact quite the opposite - you need to be as healthy as possible to deal with the drugs (ironic hey) - but for me, the healthy thing has led to the weight loss thing. Plus chemo makes me want to banish food to another postcode during the first week, so short of an intravenous drip feed, I can't help losing some. But that's just me.

I was inundated with 'diet' advice right at the beginning. From being told it was my fault I had cancer due to my eating habits (this is tantamount to a loon stopping me in the street to say its because I don't believe in god btw), to being persuaded 2 weeks before commencing chemo is a great time to do a punishing detox. It is NOT).

I know I felt a complete loss of control - a tough thing for someone who would rather fly a plane myself than have someone fly me in it -  so I immediately thought if I could make myself as healthy as possible, at least I was getting a bit of a handle on the thing.

The official line is the same as pregnancy advice - nothing unpasteurised, cured meats, soft cheeses (sob) etc. This is because of your compromised immune system. I researched a bit and went with my gut instinct, which is basically treat your body as best you can, because chemo is tough enough on it as it is, without asking your liver to deal with a glass of wine or your guts to digest a steak. There's a lot of debate on the soya/dairy issue too - they contain plant oestrogen, and since some breast cancers are hormone receptive, I thought it best not to add more fuel to the fire. Oh, and I try to avoid wheat too.

I know this sounds a bit mental, I'm basically a nearly full-time vegan. Me! While I sincerely hate being 'that' person who asks for their dressing on the side in restaurants, I really feel good that I'm doing something positive to help - its hard to just put 100% faith in doctors when you don't have a degree in medicine, like the pilot thing. Is that just me? Probably... Anyway, I'm happy with how good my skin looks as a result, people are forever telling me so, and I'm pretty sure that if I wasn't somewhat debilitated by chemo, I would be sprightlier than Tigger after a couple of Red Bulls.

Oh, and I must mention the other important point. Shopping is now a medical necessity, since none of my old clothes fit. So DadJokes can't tell me off anymore. Bonus!

IMPORTANT nb.
I hope I'm getting across that I don't believe in diets, find diets impossible in fact, but when you have beating cancer as a motivation, it's actually a lot easier than you'd think. The main thing is not to put any pressure on yourself. You don't need to change your diet, you need to not be any more depressed than is absolutely necessary. If giving up cheese makes you want to cry, eat cheese. I just adapted my eating habits to a level I could cope with, and discovering I can learn to cook has cheered me up no end. I'm pretty sure if I can do it anyone can.

nb II
I'm also not saying anyone can, or should, but just FYI, in case you want to know how to follow the extreme initial stress instant weight loss plan, then the exceedingly healthy living, control-freak maintenance plan, now you know.

nb III
Also, slipping up sometimes is amaaaazing. I swear a little bit of chocolate never tasted so amaaaaaaaaazing. I can't imagine I ever would have gone nuts over a piece of wholemeal tomato garlic pizza base before either. Buts nuts I often do go.



If you're still interested, check out The Haven's nutritional advice. It's basically what I'm doing with a few bits tweaked for anti-depressive reasons. I'm going with the 'better than' principle that commends me for anything I do better than I did it before. That offers a lot of commendation opportunities, which is always nice...

The Hair Thing - By The Boy

Hold onto your (bobble) hats, pass the sick bucket, take some anticipatory ibuprofen for the rib ache you'll have by the time you reach the end: My other half, DadJokes has produced this contributory blog post - at my pushy insistence - to give his side of 'The Hair Thing and How it Happened'.

I insisted because I wish I'd had a bit of insight into how the him-indoorses of the world would feel at

having their old girlfriends swapped in for balder versions. Then I wouldn't have wasted my money on headscarves and my time worrying about it so much.

So here it is. I can only apologise for the terrible jokery - but now you see where the moniker came from, and you can sympathise with me as you wish.

Although we were both physically in the room at the initial diagnosis, I think I may have been there more mentally than my girlfriend, ever-so-slightly. There were so many questions jumbled in my head I didn’t know what to ask first, so I tried these….

Does she have to have Chemotherapy?

How long does it last?

What do you mean 6 months? 6 months??

Is it every day? Can she stay at home?

And Sophie asked... Am I going to lose my hair?

Am I going to lose my hair! The poor sapling, she was genuinely worried about that. I now know with the wisdom of hindsight why she freaked out about this, as opposed to my ‘hair shmair’ stance. But for me as her significant other (sorry always wanted to use that description since Del Boy introduced Cassandra as such in Only Fools), it was a lot further down the priority list let me tell you.

I’ll be honest, it didn't even occur to me to ask - not because hair isn't important to me, believe me an overdue cut of my own gives me sleepless nights - I simply didn't place any importance on it in this particular context.

Now when Sophie asked me to write ‘the boyfriend's perspective on the hair loss thing’, I duly obliged, but I warned her it might not be quite what she wanted, because quite frankly my dear, I didn’t give a damn!

I actually found it quite hurtful when her mother took me aside to tell me Sophie was convinced I wouldn’t find her attractive anymore, that she was especially worried about bedtime when she couldn’t hide it from me.

I’m going to admit that I had a little weep about that to myself. I took it to mean I was comfortable with my insecurities around her, and perhaps it wasn’t reciprocated. (What? Don’t tell the lads…)

Of course it wasn’t as simple as that and we’ve talked about it since. Losing your hair is a bit more than merely an insecurity.  To me only a bit, because my point is, it doesn’t matter to me in the grand scheme of things, it doesn’t matter to me on Sophie (or off!), so its hard to grasp how much it can matter to someone worrying about what I’m going to think about it. Phew. Am I making sense? I guess I’ll never truly understand what it’s like to be told that for the next year you'll be bald (I sincerely hope).

So fast forward to the first cut. Sophie was naturally nervous but I’d done my very best to remain canny about the whole hair thing since the start, I could see we needed a bit of canny.

Claire's haircut was very good, mid-length and wavy. I thought it looked ace but casting my mind back now, I’m not sure if I was 100% honest with my enthusiastic compliments. The cut was great don't get me wrong, but I just loved her long hair. I haven’t told Sophie this, so erm maybe a public apology for white lying. Sorry babe, I was trying to make you feel better during an obvious trauma.

It was only about a week later when she called me with a wobbly voice. “Kenna is coming round to crop me today.”

I had the thoughts;  Short short hair? Will she like that? Will I like that?’ Kenna is a long time friend of Sophie’s, I don’t know him so well, but I hear he is a fantastic hairdresser. This was going to be interesting. I can admit now that for a split second I thought about his Hackney roots. Was it going to be an uber trendy haircut from the depths of Broadway Market? (for the uninitiated, a place in London where you are not worth a dime if your jeans aren't rolled up to your knees and you are not covered in multi coloured tattoo's and a handlebar tash)

Turns out it really was amazing and very sexy and I was surprised how much I loved it. But then again I might be a touch biased -  if you look as pretty as my missus does, even I could give her a good haircut.....

Yep… you guessed it.

Not so long later and Sophie was literally pulling her hair out (nb. I have a thing about the correct usage of the word literally. Here is a perfect example, please take note Mr.Jamie Redknapp and Ms.Katie Selby).

Quite frankly she was a mess, so I had to step up and take charge of the situation. "I'm taking it off, you will be fine and you will make it look beautiful. Trust me. I will think so no matter what, but I will call you Garibaldi at some points in the future" (um..yup..that actually got a laugh. And I do it too!).

It didn't take long. Whilst I sheared, we cried (yes, again), and Sophie doesn’t believe me when I say that I didn’t really freak out, even secretly, at the Vin Diesel look. Rather I was sincerely moved by how she was feeling and it hurt me to see her cry.

At the time I was thinking she could pull off rasta dreads, let alone a GI Jane crop, but it took me a while to get her to look in the mirror.

I will say this though. It felt very real now because there was finally a visual element to this bugger.

A couple of months have passed now, the love of my life is a baldy, and thankfully she has not once felt the need to try and hide it from me.

I try to greet her with a new name every time I come in the door. Richard O ‘Brien, Uncle Festa, Kojak, Terry Tibbs, Egg head, Right Said Fred, Grant Mitchell (any further suggestions, please comment below – I’m running thin) (like Sophie’s hair) (Sorry).

She just looks like Soph to me. I sometimes even forget that she has long hair (in the cupboard). Just this morning when she was all dressed and ready for work looking a gazillion dollars, I kept shouting her to come back in the room ‘‘let me take another look at cha’’. She looked amazing with this lovely red hair and with eyebrows and high heels – I guess I’m just so unfazed by the bald version it’s actually a welcome shock to catch a glimpse of the old hot one every so often!

Hair's to more of that caper then.

Compliments and how to get some...

OK, I'll be honest. I know I've been saying how I've had loads of compliments. It IS true, the consequential  blushes have been genuine and FREQUENT. BUT there has always been a little tiny bit of me that suspected they were 'cancer compliments'. Everyone is nice to you when you have cancer. I suspect if there was a movie made about me, I'd be more popular than Lindsay Lohan in Mean Girls (the tail end). Of course there would be compliments - its not really the done thing to say '/wow! the eye bags!'

But yesterday I had a breakthrough. A bit of background: I work in The Blue Fin Building, home of IPC Media. It is a big one, there are 12 floors, lots of offices, lots of lifts, lots of bumping into people you used to work with or from another office etc. So I was in a particularly crowded lift, resplendent in Amber and my second proper outfit in two weeks. My friend Sam got in - we worked together when I was an intern at B magazine years and years and years ago, and now have a 'hello by the microwaves' kind of friendship that comes with a big building and busy lives.

"Wow, the hair! It looks great, when did you get that?" At this point I'm presented with the usual conundrum:

a)  I hate and am rubbish at lying.
b) That is an ambiguously phrased hair question, does she know? does she not know?
c) There are a lot of people in the lift who don't need to know I'm having chemo
d) I'm crap at compliments at the best of times.

"Oh, you know, erm, a little bit ago, not long. er, how are YOU?" The nice thing about this one though was the follow up email.

From: Sam Trotter <sam@ipcmedia.com>
Date: Thu, 03 Mar 2011 15:51:19 +0000
To: Sophie Beresiner <sophie@ipcmedia.com>
Conversation: Oi!
Subject: Oi!

How come whenever I see you , you look rather fabulous and I look well I look like sh!te??

Loving new new hair though!

Xx

I still wasn't sure if she knew, so I pointed her to this blog. There followed several lovely heartfelt emails where it turns out she didn't know, and resulted in her trying to speak to some people to speak to some people to get me some face time with Jamie Oliver. 

So, now I have reached full and proper acceptance, I guess I'd better share what I'm putting my (geniune! yes!) compliments down to: Beauty nous.

Hair aside, lets start with the most common one, whether the kind complimenter knows or doesn't.

COMPLIMENT OF THE DAY

"You look glowing."

Exhibit A: The Megablush. - Duwop Blushbooster in Mango

This illuminating blusher has seen me through countless hangovers, very pasty days, photo shoots - I even used my own pot on 27 models at  last seasons LOOK fashion show, when the makeup artists expertly applied powder got blanched out under the catwalk lights.

Mango is simply genius. Its the perfect shade of coral that I believe works on everyone (bronze and pink you have to be more careful with). It has shimmer in it which I normally hate, but is subtle enough here that is makes your cheeks look plump and dewy, even though its a powder - weird. You can't seem to over apply it, and it just makes your whole face look warm and, well, glowy. I swear by it - its like Berocca in makeup form.

Get it here, and stock up like I have. If they ever discontinue it I will be more heartbroken than when Robbie left Take That. OK, I wasn't so heartbroken then, but trust me, this time I would be one of those girls tying up the Samaritans phone lines...

My Honey

I saw an 'oops' show  on TV once where a British news reporter said 'Hypodeemic Nerdle', (trust me, it was hilarious) and it has stuck with me to the point where it sounds more right to me than the right way. I have to carefully think phonetically about Hypodermic needle, but deemic nerdle - natural.


But I digress. I hate needles. Massive needle phobe. I'm not a fainter, but I'm a no sleep beforehand, ridiculously proud of myself afterwards, 'ooh look at my cotton pad bandage, poor me' type.


So imagine my delight at the news that one of us would have to inject me with Granocyte white blood cells for five days every time I had chemo. And its not a little gentle EpiPen either, its a full on, prepare it yourself, draw up mixture, discard needle, proper job. If you're interested I need it because chemo depletes my white blood cells for about a week, so I have no immune system basically. I become a slave to anti-bacterial gel, taxi's and air kissing.


 Poor DadJokes drew the short straw after I refused (to me injecting myself is about as possible as punching myself in the face), and my mum nearly passed out practicing on a polystyrene cup. "I'll do it" he insisted at that point.


Turns out its completely fine, he's really very good, and I like the comforting 'OK' lullaby we get into every time. "ok, ready? its going in, you ok? I'm going to do it now. ok? that ok? feeling ok?"

.

The funny thing is, in my first low week (that's what I call it), I was home for Christmas, and my entire family, who rarely get sick, all got sick. Except me, who was supposed to.


At the risk of sounding like an internet educated nutritionist, I'm going to attribute this to a little pot of honey. 
Shabir Daya, MR Pharms and co-founder of Victoriahealth.com sent me Life Mel honey when I was first diagnosed, told me to have a teaspoon a day on an empty stomach, and although I didn't even know why, and to be honest raised an eyebrow, I did it like he said. Anything to help at that point.


Now that I finally have asked, it does make spookily good sense. 


Shabir says

'LifeMel Honey is derived from bees who are fed on a specially prepared mixture of herbs including Echinacea and Cat’s Claw, which are immune enhancing plants.  This provides the honey with a unique benefit that works rather like a vaccine helping to protect the immune system' 

And it's a lot nicer than sticking a nerdle in my stomach let me tell you. 

Its not the cheapest, at £37.50 per little pot, but it will last you a good month and I hereby solemnly swear by it. I was without it for a few days at my mums and I felt noticeably ropier for longer after chemo. You can find LifeMel here

Bake Good Feel Happy

This makes me sound like I can bake, I really am (was) the worst cook on the planet. More on that later, but for now, a bit on how I have been drastically altered to LOVE cooking programmes, cooking, kitchen appliances - I bought a flipping pestle and mortar the other day - ingredients and lots of trial and error. More error really...

Jamie Oliver is my hero. I could watch 30 Minute Meals on repeat for days, in fact I do. He's just a genius at teaching through the telly. I've learnt so many tricks by osmosis, that my healthy living ineptitude and resultant depression has not only lifted, but become a fully fledged hobby. I even 'adapt' some of his recipes - how accomplished is that?  I do draw the line at 'pukka', and he does have questionable measuring skills (a tiny bit of olive oil my ar*e), but at this point, it is true love.


This recipe, that I adapted this evening (get me) has nothing to do with Jamie Oliver, but after three adaptation attempts over a four week period, I felt the final success story was worth celebrating. Oh and I promised the buckwheat banana pancake one too...


When you read the food post (imminent) you'll get my need for adapting, but basically, I love food, I love sweet things, I love biscuits, but I want to be healthy, so:

'Wheat Free, Dairy Free, Oat, Maple, Pecan, Banana Cookie Cakes'. I told you I was new to this.


Get: 
1/2 cup organic oats
1/2 cup gluten free flour
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 tsp baking powder
1 tsp cinamon
1 organic egg
2 mashed bananas
1/4 cup maple syrup or agave - but if agave use less. Don't ask me how much less, just use Maple.
1 small handful crushed whatever you like organic nuts - In this case, pecan


Do:
Mix in a bowl, add some more oats (are you sensing my cooking style?) spoon onto baking parchment,  stick in oven for 20 minutes.


I say cookie cakes because they always stay a bit spongy, but hey, it worked for Jaffa Cakes.


Dadjokes' verdict (he doesn't particularly like healthy): "I had three, can I have more?"




Buckwheat Banana Pancakes


Get:
1 mashed banana plus one for serving
1 organic egg
250 ml rice or oat milk
100g buckwheat flour
125 ml water


Do:
Whisk, cook, eat with maple syrup.


(A very happy NB on Maple Syrup: It's natural, sweeter than sugar, but with less calories, has more minerals than honey,  is a good source of  zinc, and manganese, which are good for your immune system - very important for chemo patients.  This is the best food news I have heard so far. And Beyonce got skinny on it, although I'm not recommending that...)