The strangest thing about having Hodgkin's Lymphoma is that I had no symptoms. Sounds cliche, but I genuinely believed for a good week and a half that they had mixed up my results with someone else's - it wasn't until the PET scan had come back revealing I had tumours in my chest and neck that it actually sunk in. If someone can see them with a special machine then they must be there. Another strange thing is because I have no symptoms, and haven't been suffering massively with any side effects of chemo (as of yet) is that I keep forgetting that I'm ill, and have to remind myself that there are things I can't do because my body is struggling enough as it is without me putting excess pressure on it. I found out in December 2013 that I had Lymphoma, and within 2 weeks my chemotherapy had started. I am a typical twenty year old girl and rather than being upset at the prospect of me vomiting or even dying (which is very unlikely), when I found out I was ill I was hysterical at the thought of losing my hair and at the prospect of gaining weight. It sounds vain and selfish and all of those other nasty things but my hair was beautiful, down to my ribs and incredibly thick - so thick that I used to have to get it thinned at the hairdressers. I am three chemo sessions in and, to my surprise I still have hair on my head, but it is only up to my shoulders and thinning more and more everyday. That's definitely the worst thing I've experienced, the idea that I look ill, even when I don't feel it. When I'm pale, with purple bags under my eyes and hair scattered on the floor around me but feel fine and want to do things like get drunk and eat disgusting food and look pretty but know that I can't.
Another important note in my story is that I'm living and having treatment away from home. Because I'm a university student I live in a house in Sheffield with four boys and a girl - all of whom still aren't 100% sure how to deal with the fact their friend has cancer. Neither are my parents, who struggle to be over 100 miles away from me when I'm feeling rubbish and know they can't wrap me up in cotton wool and protect me from all of the germs you find in a student house. I'm studying history - my greatest passion in life and couldn't face the prospect of giving that up and succumbing to cancer, giving it everything I had. I am so determined to carry on and do well in my studies and I'm that stubborn and strong willed that I actually think I might be able to get away with it - although I think my aims of getting a first will have to be dropped.
It sounds ungrateful and horrible again (wow what an amazing image of myself I'm putting out there), but I'm sick of people asking if I'm okay, I'm sick of people telling me I'm brave and I'm strong and that I'm proud and amazing - what else am I supposed to be?
What a sad attempt at a first blog post, so mismatched and out of place. I wish I was Carrie or Hannah and knew how to do this stuff properly.
