Thanks for reading!! I was fortunate to be put into remission effectively- thanks to advances in research. A few decades ago my outlook would have been very different. I am raising money to help more patients to be as lucky as me; supporting Bloodwise's aim that all blood cancers can be treated with minimal impact on lives.  

In early 2016 I injured my ankle, and needed surgery on it to be able to get back to my normal active life. Two days before surgery I was called to see the consultant. My surgery was cancelled as my blood test showed pancytopenia (a reduction in all types of blood cells). More things started to make sense - the tiredness that i'd put down to being unfit, bruising, nose bleeds and niggling viruses that I had been sub consciously ignoring. What followed was six months of reviews, with my bloods steadily deteriorating. However, "looking well" I was reassured that this was "just the way my blood was". And I believed it, continuing to live my life and going ahead with surgery.

Six months later my resolve that this was nothing was faltering. The bruising from my ankle surgery was more than I expected, my periods were heavy, and I was fed up of feeling run down. I went into my next appointment ready to fight for answers, but I didn't need to - seeing a different consultant that day gave the situation fresh eyes, and I was scheduled for a bone marrow biopsy the following day. Bone marrow biopsies - what can I say! They are one of the cruellest things ever!! Thankfully I took a friend, who held my hand as I sobbed and flinched my way through needles that felt as big as hose pipes being screwed into my hip..... but I knew it would give the answers I needed. And I knew as soon as I was asked to go to the cancer centre to discuss further treatment, that this wasn't "just the way my blood was".

I was diagnosed with Hairy Cell Leukaemia, with 80% of my bone marrow being malignant cells. The truly rubbish name provided a bit of a comedy twist during a horrible time, as well  as scope for endless jokes from friends about needing a shave etc! I was lucky this was a blood cancer which is successfully put into remission, although treatment is not curative, so the prospect of it coming back is something I have to learn to accept. 

I was also facing the prospect that chemo would leave me infertile (should definitely have listened to my Mum telling me to get a move on earlier!!). No one could tell me if this would happen - I am an unusual person to get HCL- most of the patients with this condition are older men!! Thankfully I was offered fertility preservation treatment and went through hormone injections and egg freezing. I think they will remember me for a while as I had a bad reaction to the platelet transfusion I needed for the procedure, creating dramas on egg collection day!! I guess time will tell what happens, something its difficult to think about too much, but I will always remember the support I was given by the oncology-fertility link nurse. I had been seeing a guy for three months at this point. Being forced to tell someone you may or may not have a future with that you have cancer and may be infertile is one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. Sadly our relationship lasted through my treatment but did not survive the test of illness, as many unfortunately do not. 

My friends were incredible - organising a weekend away pre chemo to cheer me up which was one of the nicest distractions possible!!! They also know how bad I am at doing nothing - giving me thoughtful gifts to occupy my time during chemo and recovery. Honestly, being unwell isn't all bad, it shows you the best in the people around you and reminds you what you have.

Then to chemo. Well..... I remember it being ok!  My friends tell me I have fake memory syndrome and actually it was awful, but if thats the case I'm happy with my version of events. I do remember long waits in the day case ward, overwhelming tiredness and coffee suddenly tasting revolting (from being a coffee addict!!). However, chemo has side effects, and as happy I was that my hair thinned but did not fall out completely, my already low neutrophil level fell lower and lower. Five days after my last dose of chemo I woke up feeling worse. I thought I was just tired, however physically unable to stand up in the shower I realised I was probably sick, and I took my temperature which was sky high. The next thing I knew I was on my way to get admitted..... the walk from the taxi to the assessment ward involved sitting down at every opportunity and a bit of praying that I wouldn't pass out in my way up the lift! I guess I looked horrendous curling up in the seat of a "chemotherapy chair" shivering with a winter coat and wooly hat on! My normally good veins failed me, and my Mum got more and more stressed as antibiotics were delayed while cannulas could not be placed as I was so shut down..... and I had no energy to reassure her.

Ten days of inpatient treatment for neutropenic sepsis followed. A roller coaster of feeling fairly acceptable, then absolutely horrendous.  Middle of the night medical reviews, bloods and ECGs, raging temperatures, a dodgy blood pressure, and a racing heart rate; as well as developing a whole body rash which bled when I scratched it.  Friends and family were amazing, doing all they could to make it easier and bringing amazing gifts of mints and fizzy water, toiletries and books. I am ashamed to admit hiding food in the fridge and bin to avoid hassle about eating from nurses.....! Sleep is another thing you never value more than when you are not getting much in hospital!

Some friends (lied and) told me I looked ok, while my Dad cried when he first came to visit me. My good friend who our whole relationship normally exists on her making fun of me (!) was nice for the whole visit - and later admitted she was shocked by my appearance. Luckily I don't think I had any visitors at the times I felt the worst- those memories are just for me to lock away!!! I had enough insight several days in to know I was pretty disgusting and tried to have a shower.... I ended up passed out on the floor and had to resort to a shower chair like an OAP for all future shower attempts! Despite this I was lucky, I did not get "seriously" unwell.  

I missed my friends wedding, and got out of hospital on the night of the work Christmas party - sat at home doing injections in my stomach to boost my neutrophil levels while my colleagues were having fun. I think the next few months after this were the hardest time. I was exhausted, but I had finished chemo and was better from the sepsis, and determined to rush getting back to normal. I had only 2 1/2 months off work, coming back in February in a misguided attempt to be "normal" again. I was so tired I was crying at the end of the working week.... but it slowly got easier.

My bloods improved, but a dreaded bone marrow biopsy was needed to confirm that I had gone into remission. This time I passed out during the procedure, scaring me even more for next time I need one!! And then in March I was told I was in remission! I had this view of it being a beautiful moment of celebration, but if I'm honest it felt like a strange anti-climax. I was now expected to be well and try and get back to my "normal" - an active job, an active social life, and exercise- which seemed so overwhelming.

Over time I started feeling more energetic, and exercising became more possible. But I still couldn't fully believe I was better. I needed a goal, a BIG fitness goal, and what better way to prove to myself that I am better than running a marathon; a feat I would never have contemplated as achievable before. I have struggled my way through a few half marathons in the past, and as my friends will confirm I am a slow coach who is not a natural runner! And who would have thought my legs would be able to run as far or as consistently as they are currently - a massive boost!!  

I am under no illusions that this is going to be in any way easy, but when its hard I need to remember why I am doing this. Its not just for me, but also to raise money for an amazing cause. Despite all that I've written above, I truly feel I have been lucky. I was treated quickly, and put into remission effectively with only one course of chemo. Comparatively to many cancers, my treatment only affected my life for a short time, and I strongly want this to be the case for anyone diagnosed with a blood cancer in the future, whatever the type. I am hoping that I stay in remission for many years to come, and while I will not be winning any prizes for my marathon time, the aim to finish it will be the biggest prize I can give myself, and Bloodwise.

******

Thanks for visiting my page!

Donating through JustGiving is simple, fast and totally secure. Your details are safe with JustGiving - they'll never sell them on or send unwanted emails. Once you donate, they'll send your money directly to the charity. So it's the most efficient way to donate - saving time and cutting costs for the charity.