What To Hold On For Now?

People said i seemed well at Christmas and then again at my baptism a few weeks later.

Was i well?
Not really, but i guess i felt it at the time.

I know since then i've got a lot, lot worse.
My breathing is my slow killer and it doesn't seem to be letting up anytime soon.

One person at my church got upset the other week, as they thought me being dunked when i had my baptism had been the cause of my rapid deterioration....it really wasn't.

I think since the news of me not being around much longer started there were certain things, not really made public, that i knew in my mind i really wanted to try and be around for.

Two of the more recent events were those mentioned above...
Christmas
and My Baptism.

I think that's why i've got worse since then, i havn't really got any more things, planned or unplanned to really focus on. Sure everyday i should focus on but it's not the same.

I recently got to my 20th birthday. I wanted to make it to there and i achieved that. I knew i wouldn't make the milestone that is 21, but to me, 20 has been a bigger milestone than any that have passed or will have done.

I made it. And for that, i couldn't be happier.


EDIT: I just realised that one of the things on my "list" i wanted to do was leave a legacy.
Pleae check out this page and with anything you have, help me leave even the tiniest piece of a legacy. http://www.justgiving.com/amynicholls

Slow Dance...

I got sent a chain email the other day. The thought was there but it was obvious the email had been tweaked many a time over the years. Here is the poem that was included in the mail, guess through all the stupidity of chain letterss the real message are still there if you look hard enough....


Slow Dance Poem

Have you ever watched kids
On a merry-go-round?
Or listened to the rain
Slapping on the ground?
Ever followed a
butterfly's erratic flight?
Or gazed at the sun
into the fading night?

You better slow down.
Don't dance so fast.
Time is short.
The music won't last.

Do you run through each day
On the fly?
When you ask How are you?
Do you hear the reply?
When the day is done
Do you lie in your bed
With the next hundred chores
Running through your
head?

You'd better slow down
Don't dance so fast.
Time is short.
The music won't last.

Ever told your child,
We'll do it tomorrow?
And in your haste,
Not see his sorrow?
Ever lost touch,
Let a good friendship die
Cause you never had time
To call and say, "hi"?

You'd better slow down.
Don't dance so fast.
Time is short.
The music won't last.

When you run so fast to get somewhere
You miss half the fun of getting there.

When you worry and hurry through your day,
It is like an unopened gift....
Thrown away.

Life is not a race.
Do take it slower
Hear the music
Before the song is over.

Our Own Little System...

So we're getting things down to a system. Maybe not an easy system, but one that seems to work.

Cleaning up each morning isn't easy. It has to be done. And that's the system I'm talking about. Old clothes off, fresh clothes on. Hygiene, hair, trying to take care of things the way I used to do it.

I couldn't do any of that without mom's help - something I hope she realises every day.

So, all in all, this seems to be working.

I'm pretty lucky.

Losing Control But Not Giving In...

How will this go? How do things play out from here? What happens next?

I don't have the answers to any of those questions right now. I'm sure the answers will become apparent at some point, but we're not there yet.

I do see changes in my body. I'm not as strong as I was a few weeks ago or a few weeks before that. I need more help doing some things.

Getting up the stairs for instance. I used to go up and down them without really thinking. Well, those days are over. I need to plan ahead if I can, make sure there's someone else there to help me up them, oxygen in toe.

It's just another little loss of control. A loss of freedom that the cancer has caused and I hate it.

It scares me too. How far will it go? How much of my strength will the cancer steal? Will I end up bed-ridden?


On the other hand, I have to keep going. I have to move around, go from chair to chair. I'm not bed-ridden now and I can't let myself give up.

So as it gets harder and harder to do the same things, I think all I can do is work a little harder to do them.

And make the cancer work harder to try and stop me.

New Year..

So we're starting another year of fighting with the "beast" To my mind, that means fighting dirty. Hit it when it's not looking. Jab it with radio when it doesn't expect it. Zap it, fry it, freeze it. This is no time to shake hands.

As we start this new year, it's a time to remember that everything is riding on this fight.

Giving Thanks this Christmas..

I have so much to be thankful for.

That might sound funny coming from someone with cancer. We have each other - the greatest gift of all. We have our loved ones. My doctors and their skills. I can still laugh when I should, and cry when I need to. And most important...I'm still here.

I may have my complaints, but I'm grateful for what I do have, however little it may be. Some people could only dream of what I have, I'll never forget that.
But my Christmas wish for all of you, those fighting the disease and those standing beside them, is that you find some healing, some peace. Even if it's just for an hour. I hope that Christmas dinner, or opening presents, or a silly family tradition, something will take your mind off the illness and pain. Just an hour or two of normalcy would be one of the best Christmas gifts ever.

I wish you all a wonderful Christmas x

A Snapshot In Time...

I live by a different calendar these days. I measure my life by the next appointment, the next lot of radiation, times to take my medication.

I realise that the rest of the world is going on about its business. Going to work, on holiday, shopping, all the usual stuff. My friends are all working or at college, measuring their lives by new assignments or reports due. All the things I used to worry about.

I guess today I'm really feeling the split between Cancer World and the normal world. Cancer World, my world, looks a lot like the normal world. But it is so very different.

I've gotten out of the house a few times, but I've pretty much been house-bound for a while now. I know that outside these walls, life goes on. But it's strange not to be part of it. I can almost feel the hum, the rhythm of everything that's happening out there.

When I first got home, the trees in my backyard were a riot of autumn colors. Now they're mostly bare, the leaves littering the ground. Time is passing in both Cancer World and the normal world. I just wish they didn't feel so far apart.