The Big C - 2024

‘Our time on this planet is finite. Don’t waste that time worrying about stuff that is not important. Focus on the things that are important.’ 

Sir Chris Hoy 2024

It seems that never a week goes by without a celebrity announcing they are dealing with cancer these days. Once upon a time, news like this would be hidden, but in the current climate, more and more celebrities are going public and it is something that I welcome. Being public about the facts, the figures, the treatment and so on, can offer help and support to someone else who may be struggling to deal with their own cancer diagnosis. Being a celebrity means that this information can be spread far and wide very easily and people will take notice.

I was deeply shocked to hear that Sir Chris Hoy has been told his cancer is terminal. I knew that he was being treated but assumed that his super fitness and healthy lifestyle would mean that he would recover quickly from his surgery/treatment and his life would continue as normal. In his case, it would appear that this is not so. Sir Chris has bravely spoken out about his diagnosis and his prognosis and has shown himself to be a man of incredible inner strength and positivity.  I have been led to believe that he has known for some time that his condition is terminal but quite rightly, he took the time to accept and assimilate the news, spending time with his family to ensure they knew what was going on, before he made the decision to go public.  It is not a decision to be rushed and although I have the greatest respect for Sir Chris for being so open, I also respect the need for others to keep their condition confined to their inner circle of friends. We must each do what is right for us.

I haven’t felt able to watch the recent documentary that has been screened as yet, but I will do when I am ready, and from what I have seen and heard, it is an extraordinary demonstration of courage, inner strength and positive thinking. He is obviously not a man seeking pity or compassion though he is getting that and love in droves!  Instead, he is a man who realises that whatever time he has left, should be spent doing the things he loves.

As a 6 time gold medal Olympian in track cycling, we have seen for ourselves the determination and drive that he has demonstrated. He knows what it is like to work hard and to strive towards a goal, and although he has been given a prognosis of 2 to 4 years, you cannot help but think he will strive for more and if the amount of time he has been given is correct, that he will do his utmost to make them memorable and happy. He will live life as best he can, for the full period of time.

I’ve listened to some short clips of Sir Chris speaking on various programmes and he is very honest about his treatment: how hard it was, how he faced difficult decisions such as what to say to his children and the fact that he had to explain to them that it was the treatment making him look and feel ill, not the cancer itself. These are things that are often forgotten. Before my treatment, I felt tired but had no other symptoms. During chemotherapy I was sick, weak, unable to sleep or eat properly, lacking energy and motivation and suffering from dreadful brain fog which meant I was unable to focus on anything in particular or make decisions. I knew it was important to have the treatment, but I had no idea that it would be that, not the tumour,  which would make me feel so dreadful.

Sir Chris has the most amazing attitude and has decided that turning his diagnosis into something positive, rather than focusing on the fact that he is dying, can be a way of helping others facing a similar situation. He is purely focused on what he can control rather than worrying about the things that he cannot. What an amazing attitude! He very much believes (and I agree with him) that when faced with a difficult situation, we are generally far more resilient and stronger than we think we are or give ourselves credit for. He firmly believes that when you are put into a position like him, then you have to cope, there is no other option, but I have seen for myself that other people do not. They give up, they accept the inevitable, they do not fight and they seem to disappear in front of our eyes.

When listening to Sir Chris the main thought that comes to my mind  is that he feels that there is always hope, however dark a situation might be. His mantra appears to be that we should  spend more time focussing on the here and now and not think too far ahead. In his words, ‘The future doesn’t exist yet, all we’ve got is the present,’ and making the most of the present will help us far more than worrying about what may or may not happen in the future. Sir Chris realises that his current situation is about appreciating the life he has and finding joy in the small things, in everything around him and in the people he is surrounded by. His strategy through treatment, and probably in his everyday life, is to take things one step at a time – such valuable advice to anyone who is struggling. Looking at the bigger picture, can totally overwhelm us especially if we know that the inevitable outcome is death, but focussing on the here and now means that we learn to appreciate every small thing and that can bring us so much joy. Whatever is going to happen in the future will happen, but we can deal with it as and when it happens, rather than spending our valuable time worrying in advance.

The terminal diagnosis was obviously the biggest shock he could have had, it would be for anybody. But in life it does happen and we have a choice. We can embrace the negative thoughts and have some difficult depressing months ahead of us or we can aim to embrace the positive, filling our time with happiness and joy and seizing every opportunity that comes our way. Not only will this help us, but it will help those we are destined to leave behind as they will have so many happy memories to refer back to.

Sir Chris is determined to help all those he can by his openness and positivity.  He is offering hope, inspiration and self belief because he understands that none of us know what other people are going through. He is currently publishing a book which is not only helping him to process his news and to focus his thoughts but will ultimately help millions of others too.

Feeling low recently, I have been inspired by his outlook and want to share it with all those I know are finding life hard and those who appear to have given up on life. Like him, I believe there is always hope, there is always some joy, though it may be hard to find at times, and there is always something worth living for. We may need the support of others but a lot of it has to come from ourselves and we most certainly are stronger and more resilient than we think if we allow ourselves to be so.

In Sir Chris Hoy’s words: ‘Our time on this planet is finite. Don’t waste that time worrying about stuff that is not important. Focus on the things that are important.’  And if we can do that, then life might suddenly feel more worthwhile, happier and more hopeful. Make the most of each moment when you are well enough to do so, fill your time with happy activities, smiling friends and little treats.  Indulge yourself, make plans and don’t keep things for best or for another time, do it now!  Wear your Sunday clothes, use your best china, eat that chocolate cake, go to that restaurant – whatever makes you and your family and friends happy. Life is worth living, however short it might be.

Sir Chris Hoy is showing us that it is all about appreciating life and finding joy.  We can deal with whatever we need to deal with if we choose to do so. 

My motto was Onwards and Upwards, his is just Onwards but truth be told, it doesn’t matter. Find your own words, your own way but live for today and enjoy life!

Why am I sleeping so much?

Why can’t I get to sleep?

At first, I didn’t understand myself what was going on. I would sit in the hospital for hours whilst I had my chemotherapy – resting, relaxing and moving very little. I would then come home and crash on the sofa for several hours. I now realise that the drugs that were going into my system were fighting the cancer cells and it is little wonder I felt totally worn out, even before you add in the mental trauma and distress I was experiencing. I spent many days lying on the sofa with a comfortable blanket or duvet, watching the television and just dozing.  It caused much amusement in my household and although my family didn’t understand why, they accepted it and made concessions for it. Eventually they realised that the treatment and drugs were draining me of energy and I needed to rest and recoup as much as possible.

Fatigue is also a common side effect leaving a patient feeling totally drained. It can affect all areas of your life making you feel impatient, tearful, unable to concentrate, suffering from memory loss and experiencing shortness of breath. It makes you feel like you can’t cope, make decisions or have a decent quality of life.  I suffered from all of these and struggled to concentrate on anything but didn’t realise that extreme fatigue was the reason.  Once you realise and accept that, the stress lifts a little and subsequently your mood does too. I needed to know that it was normal to feel so tired when I was doing nothing but lie on the sofa and that any form of exercise, housework or even just going up the stairs, could wipe me out for hours. Just as importantly I needed those around me to know and accept that too.

Many of the cancer drugs and anti-sickness medications affect sleep patterns, as do steroids. In my case, I had to take steroids for 3 days after each infusion. A tiny tablet several times a day which wrecked my sleeping completely! It was then I found out how lonely it can be at night and how long a night can be when the rest of the household are soundly sleeping and I was tossing and turning: exhausted but unable to get to sleep. Steroids won’t allow your mind to shut down and anxiety, fear and loneliness subsequently creep in. There is nothing more frustrating than knowing that sleep is necessary for mental and physical wellbeing, feeling totally exhausted yet still not being able to sleep, but this is hopefully a minor hiccup. Once I knew that this would happen and accepted the inevitability, I coped much better. What I hadn’t realised and still find difficult to accept is that these issues can last for many months after treatment and even years.  I still struggle to sleep, I still toss and turn and I still suffer from the effects of sleep deprivation.

There are many causes of sleep disruption but it is important to find ways to deal with it and to try to help ease it, as sleeplessness and being awake in the dead of night creates a vicious cycle – I can’t sleep so my mind wanders into dark areas, I get worried so I can’t sleep!

Insomnia can be caused by stress, anxiety and depression – three emotions all cancer patients will recognise.  Different treatments may cause sleeplessness as will medication and being in hospital with all the night time disturbances that entails. Being in a different bed, in a ward with other people, nurses seeing to other patients, constant blood pressure checks, slamming doors etc does not create the right atmosphere for deep and relaxing sleep! Fatigue is rather more complex and varies between patients.  It happens because the body is using the energy it has, to deal with the medication you are having and the repairs it is trying to do. Many people will have low levels of red blood cells, be experiencing pain and facing a whole raft of emotions which all affect sleep quality.  Sickness and diarrhoea will also be affecting the food that you eat so it probably isn’t as nutritional and as healthy as it should be. Following my first treatment I lived on digestive biscuits, ginger biscuits and skittle sweets – unable to face or keep down any other food.  It wasn’t healthy but at least it gave me some energy and taste when everything else tasted either bland or salty which put me off eating altogether.

So what can you do to promote good quality sleep and deal with fatigue? Poor sleep patterns can get worse when you are feeling low or stressed so try to factor in happy, fun things into your day when you can.

·        When you are well enough and able to do so, try to have a healthy nutritional diet whenever possible. 

·        Make a plan of what you want to do achieve each day (these can be really simple activities such as having a shower, washing your hair, getting dressed etc) and do the most important things first when you have the most energy.

·        Pace yourself with regular rest periods

·        Try to do some physical activity if you can, even if you don’t feel like it, but take it gently.

·        Try relaxation techniques such as mindfulness, meditation or breathing exercises – these can help you feel calmer and more able to cope with worries and anxieties

·        Get up, read, do a crossword or jigsaw puzzle until you feel tired and try once again

·        Listen to some music

·        Write your thoughts and worries down in a diary to help clear your mind

Both Macmillan Support and Cancer Research UK offer a cancer chat line where you can chat through your fears and worries or join an online forum to ‘speak’ to others who have been through or are experiencing the same problems. These are a safe place to connect, offering some anonymity but giving you access to people who understand

 Cancerchat.cancerresearchuk.org is an online forum where people can talk about any cancer topic from initial symptoms, to going through treatment and beyond. This is a free moderated service open 24/7.  You can also speak to a nurse from 9am to 5pm, Mondays to Fridays on 0808 800 4040

Macmillan Cancer Support also has a free online community. They have an ‘Awake’ thread offering support to those people who are awake through the night which may help you feel less alone. You don’t need an account to read what others are posting if this is what you prefer, or you can join and post your own comments or ask for specific advice. It is designed to be a safe place for people to connect with people offering tips and suggestions based on their own personal experiences. They also have a cancer information and support adviser who is available every day from 8am to 8pm on 0808 808 00 00

Coping with tiredness and fatigue is exhausting.  The best tips I can give anyone suffering from these are:

·        Listen to your body and do what it says. If it says sleep, then let yourself do so.

·        Recognise that you are likely to feel tired or fatigued and accept it rather than fight it.  It is perfectly normal and part of your recovery.

·        Explain to others that your cancer treatment is making you tired and that this is perfectly normal. Once they stop making comments about it you will relax more and sleep will improve.

·        Try to eat and drink healthily and nutritionally when you are able to do so.

·        Try to incorporate a little gentle exercise into your day when you are well enough, even if it is just a short wander in the back garden.

·        Accept that steroids are going to affect you badly and find a way to deal with it that suits you eg rest in a different room to your partner, read a book, do a jigsaw puzzle etc.

·        Accept that this may go on for some time and make sure your family and friends recognise and accept this too so that you don’t feel you have to make excuses.

·        Remind yourself that this is a stage of your recovery and will ease in time.

Three years on, my energy levels are still not what they were and with other stresses affecting my life, tiredness, insomnia and fatigue continue to hit when I least expect them to. It is a process, it takes time, it takes understanding and acceptance.

Wishing everyone a wonderful night’s sleep and if you are unable to do that, know that you are not alone – connect with others, try not to worry or stress about it and fingers crossed, tomorrow will be better for you.

Sending hugs to all that need them

😊

‘Out of the darkness can come light, so let that light shine bright.’

Catherine, Princess of Wales, September 2024

Beautifully shot with idyllic countryside views, a family having fun together, animals, sunshine, seaside – it was everything that you would possibly want after going through something so traumatic and life changing as cancer treatment. We don’t all have that luxury of course, but we do have our own happy moments. But despite the beautiful setting, it was Catherine's words that deeply resonated with me. I have listened to them several times over now and feel that she has managed to put into her carefully chosen words, many of the emotions that cancer survivors experience.

It is widely believed by the general public and indeed ourselves, that once chemotherapy is over, everything is ok again. You go back to being normal and to being able to do all the things you did before and many can’t understand it when this doesn’t happen. I struggled with this myself. I assumed that I would be absolutely fine a couple of weeks after completing my treatment. In reality, the next few months were often harder than going through the chemotherapy itself as my immune system was low, my medical support was withdrawn and my mental state was in turmoil. I was hit by infection after infection, feelings of doubt, anxiety and a loss of self-confidence. I felt guilty that I still needed to rest and sleep or didn’t have the energy to go back to work, do the housework, climb a mountain – whatever! But this is SO normal. I also found it increasingly frustrating to be told, ‘You are fine now, just get on with it.’  I wasn’t fine and I couldn’t just get on with it. And three years down the line, I still have not got back to where I was.

Catherine made it quite clear that cancer is complex, unpredictable and can hit you in so many different ways. She said ‘Although my chemotherapy is finished, my path to healing and full recovery is long..’ She is so right. We all heal and recover at different rates. It depends on the surgery you have had, what type of chemotherapy, whether there was radiotherapy or immunotherapy involved, your age, state of mind, support network and so on – nobody can state how long it will be before you fully recover, but the effects of surgery and treatment can take months if not years to finally leave the body. Chemotherapy is effectively a poison that courses through every part of you, killing good cells as well as bad – no one can truly understand how that feels or how long it takes to overcome unless they have gone through it themselves.

Princess Catherine goes on to say that she is taking each day as it comes as some days are better than others and that she has a new appreciation of life and the simple things that many of us take for granted. Talking to a friend going through severe chemotherapy treatment at the moment, she tells me what joy she had from collecting her son from school – a simple task that becomes mundane to most of us, but when that task is taken away from you it takes on an increased importance and relevance. To be able to leave the hospital, be out in the fresh air and to stand in the playground like any other mother, gave my friend a huge feeling of normality, something which she has been sadly lacking  for many months now.

However cancer hits you, it is the small stuff that takes on so much significance. Having a bath or a hair wash, going to a shop, cooking a simple meal – normal everyday stuff that can be the bane of our lives, suddenly becomes something we are grateful for and reinforces the thought that we should not take anything for granted. I certainly had a new appreciation for life.  I wanted to be out in the fresh air, having new experiences, signing up for new adventures and making the most of every single day. Due to other circumstances this hasn’t happened, but I have hope that maybe one day I can do all the things that I had initially planned to do. Although you might not think of death after a cancer diagnosis (and let’s face it, many many people now survive due to surgery and treatment), there seems to be a part of you that suddenly realises that life is not infinite, it does have an end point and we should therefore make the most of it while we can. That seems to hit naturally with advancing years too – how long do I have left to do all the things that I’ve always wanted to do?

Catherine ends her video message with words of support and comfort to those that are undergoing a similar journey to herself. ‘I remain with you side by side, hand in hand.’ Being public about her cancer has done wonders for others that are experiencing the same thing. It has shown that cancer has no boundaries: if it did, why would it choose a young, fit, wealthy mother? Why would it choose royalty who have access to the best medical support available? Why would it choose someone who is so full of life and dedicated service? Cancer doesn’t care but Catherine does. It would have been tough for her to go public,  she could have kept her illness secret from us all.  She could have decided not to issue any statements or videos detailing her journey and recovery, but she has chosen to do the opposite and to offer her support to those who need it. I hope that one day she is brave enough to reveal her specific cancer, as again I feel this would be a huge support, but she is entitled to her privacy just as anyone else is. 

Her final statement was ‘Out of darkness can come light, so let that light shine bright.’  Cancer is a dark terrible time. It is scary.  It is terrifying.  It is lonely. But there is light! The oncology departments do the most amazing work and save so many lives. They give us hope and support and help when we are at our most vulnerable. They are amazing people who show us that there is light and hope and a way forward. Catherine too is doing what she can to show cancer sufferers that there is hope, to encourage us to enjoy the simple things in life and to make the most of those who love us.

Sending hugs and love to all those who are struggling with their illness whether it be cancer or anything else. Take comfort from those around you, ask for help when it is needed and enjoy what you can, when you can.

Onwards and upwards x

Where do you buy your knickers from?  For me it is and always has been M&S.  Good quality, inexpensive, practical (and sometimes not so!) knickers - made to last.  But for some women, this seemingly simple activity of walking into a shop and selecting new knickers from the range on offer, has not been possible - until now!

M&S have just launched their amazing new product that could make the 200,000+ people living with a stoma very happy!

Stoma knickers.  Knickers specifically designed for the many people who are successfully living with a stoma and have until now, had to buy their knickers from a specialised store or online.

I’ve not written about stomas before because I was lucky and didn’t need one. But I was shocked to hear how many people do and not just as a result of bowel cancer but from other illnesses too such as Crohn’s disease or diverticulitis. A very simplified explanation of a stoma is that it is an opening onto the abdomen that can be connected to the digestive or urinary system. This allows waste products (ie urine and faeces) to be diverted from the body.  The stoma is a small, pinkish, circular piece of flesh that may lie fairly flat to the body or may protrude a little.  A pouch is worn over the top of the stoma.

When I was signing permission for my surgery, I had to sign to accept that a stoma would be created if there was the need. It is not really an option - if it is needed then it is needed!  That was my first introduction to a stoma and the possibility that I might need one. It hadn’t really been on my radar before then so it was a scary thought, though I have since been assured that it is not painful and it is obviously a necessity.  The DJ Adele Roberts has been a very visible presence online and in the media about her stoma, named Audrey, showing how life can continue successfully with a stoma and that it is not something to be feared or embarrassed about. She has an amazing attitude to the hiccups that occur with any health condition and has great advice for anyone facing a similar situation.  Adele has proved that a stoma doesn’t stop you doing anything, having appeared on the TV show Dancing on Ice and received a Guinness World Record for the fastest woman with a stoma to complete the London Marathon. She is truly an inspiration.

Following a suggestion from one of their own colleagues who has been living with a stoma, M&S are the first UK High Street retailers to introduce a special lingerie line – stoma knickers! M&S  has a commitment to offer lingerie to all ladies – to be inclusive, accessible and stylish and they have certainly done that with their new range. They worked with their colleagues and Colostomy UK to bring together the design expertise of M&S and the extensive knowledge of the charity that is dedicated to supporting people with stomas, to create a range of knickers with an internal pocket to hold the stoma securely in place.

A number of women successfully living with a stoma were involved throughout the process: through design, development and marketing, to help come up with a collection that provides style, comfort and support at an affordable price. At present these stoma knickers are available online and in selected stores. They are made from soft cotton with a light control stretch and have elastic at the pocket opening which helps keep the stoma bag in place throughout the day and night.

Pants will be available in packs of 3, a choice of 4 colours and in a number of different styles, with prices starting from about £18 for 3 which is hugely cheaper than previous options bought online.  They are also VAT exempt.

This is not me writing an advertisement for M&S and I obviously don’t get paid for any of this, but I wanted to write about the product as it is such a simple thing to go out and buy a pair of pants and yet, until now, that simple task has been denied for those who have a stoma. Being able to walk into an M&S shop and pick up a pretty, colourful, affordable pair of knickers is now accessible to these ladies and will do amazing things for those coming to terms with this lifechanging situation, hopefully making them feel more confident.  It also shows that large companies can produce great things when they listen and respond to the needs of their customers.

M&S have a long history in addressing the different needs of their customers.  They introduced different shades of neutrals to complement different skin tones, period pants (for which they got government legislation to change to make them VAT exempt) and post surgery bras of varying styles.  Last year they introduced a clip on pocket for the first time, which gives customers the options of wearing their own prothesis with any bra.  They also have an easy dressing range for children who have sensory or physical disabilities, using soft materials, minimal seams and hidden care labels that can be an irritation to sensitive skin.  Any company that works to provide for all those with post surgery issues, recovering from cancers and other illnesses and listening to their customers deserve publicity!

This is not a product I need but who knows in the future?  And if that should happen, how wonderful that I could still go into a major high street store and find a product that is not only practical but stylish and comfortable at the same time and makes me no different to anybody else.

Well done M&S and the lady (Jiggy) who first approached the company with her suggestions.

Have you  thought about keeping a cancer diary or journaling? 

When I told a friend that I kept a diary through my cancer diagnosis and subsequent treatment, her response was ‘That’s a bit grim isn’t it? A bit weird?’  But to me it wasn’t. I couldn’t see anything strange about it all!

I’ve always been one for keeping notes and lists as I have mentioned in previous posts. I’ve also always kept a diary, an everyday one recording anything that has happened on each day of the year.  It is something I’ve done since I was about 11 years old. Occasionally I refer back to them for a specific piece of information but not often. I’ve also kept diaries of major events such as The Falklands Conflict in 1982 and the recent Covid pandemic, so keeping a diary during my cancer journey seemed a natural thing to do.

It started with a list of doctor visits and symptoms but started in earnest when I was heading for pre cancer checks and then my diagnosis appointment. When I was well enough, I wrote down what was happening and what I was feeling. It wasn’t completed every day, just as and when I felt like it or when something different occurred.

But why keep a diary of an unpleasant time?  In my eyes, I found it good therapy. In my diary I was able to be totally honest. I didn’t have to try to protect anyone else or shield them from bad news, I didn’t have to pretend I was ok or be brave, I could say anything I wanted, knowing that the only person who would read my diary (unless I gave them permission) was me. Here I poured out my fears for the future, my worries about the treatment and how I might feel and the effect it was having on other members of the family. I could say I felt crap, or I was cross with something someone had said, or how I was jealous of the fun other people were having – and nobody knew – nobody could tell me I should be brave or be thankful or be happy, if I didn’t actually feel like it. I was not being judged and I could be me.

I’ve rarely looked at the diary since as I haven’t felt the need to do so, but it is there and I can refer to it anytime. It is a documentation of my cancer diagnosis, treatment and recovery. If it would help anyone else I would gladly let them read it, but in reality it is for my eyes only. Writing things down helped me to focus, particularly when brain fog was at its worst. It helped me to process what was happening, why it was happening and my reaction to it happening. It helped me to rationalise what was going on and it gave me focus. It made my brain slow down, think things through and order my words on the page.  As I wrote, I could feel myself getting calmer and my thoughts and fears getting more under control.

As I read through sections of my diary now, I can see how my mood changes as the treatment progresses and I recognise that my way of thinking was changing. On some particularly difficult days I’ve ended with positives – switching the way I was feeling into something happier by recognising that even when I was feeling rubbish there were good things happening or small improvements showing.

I’ve recently been to a journaling workshop which is another process that can help you through treatment. Less rigid than a diary, it can be done in several ways : free flowing journaling is where you sit with a sheet of paper and just write down all your thoughts in no particular order.  This can be enlightening as the more you write, the more your true feelings appear. In my session, I realised that I was holding in a lot of anger and frustration at the current situation I am in (not cancer related) but seeing it all on the page helped me to analyse my feelings and structure my thoughts. It gave me a chance to think of a way forward that I hadn't seen before. If that seems too ‘free’ and you are somebody who appreciates more structure  as I do, a wellbeing journal could be the thing for you, with designated sections helping you to focus on specific aspects of your life such as exercise, mood, food intake, positive thoughts and so on. Having a heading can make it easier to focus and think more deeply about your life and what changes could be made to help you feel happier and more positive.

There are numerous tips that can help you be successful in keeping a cancer diary or a daily journal: 

• sit somewhere quiet and away from distractions

• listen to some relaxing music

• put your phone out of hearing

• find a time that suits you when you are feeling relaxed

• just spend 10 minutes or so focusing on you and not the daily grind

At first it might seem hard, or become a list but it really doesn’t matter - the more you practise, the easier it will become. Spelling and grammar are not important, your feelings and emotions are!

It has been proven that journaling helps you connect with your feelings, reasoning and creative problem solving because it uses both sides of the brain. It helps to increase your brain function and to understand more clearly what you are feeling and why.  It can also be a calming activity and a great way to either start or end the day, whichever suits you best. It is calming because the art of writing helps the brain to process everything that is happening, our emotions and the daily stresses that we are dealing with. The act of keeping a diary/journal is also believed to improve our memory and enhances the ability to improve our creativity and problem-solving skills – so all in all, it is a useful, fun, interesting and effective activity!

For the more adventurous, scrapbooking is another possibility.  Using a variety of different items: postcards, photographs, tickets, quotes and so on, this is a particularly creative way to document important events.

Keeping a diary of your cancer journey is not morbid, grim or weird. It is a great way to document what is happening and how you are feeling whilst helping you to focus on the way forward. If that helps you to deal with your cancer journey, then it is a great thing to do!

Keeping a diary was helpful for me.  It recorded my thoughts, emotions and fears as well as documenting what was happening. Keeping a gratitude diary following the end of my treatment helped me to focus on the good things that were happening when I was still feeling rough.  I am now moving on to a wellbeing journal to help me look to the future.

There are no rights and wrongs to keeping a diary/journal/scrapbook, so if you want to give it a try, just do it! And in years to come when you do decide to flick through it again, you will see just how far you have come.

I have a friend who has just started intensive chemotherapy.  This means that she will be in hospital for 4 weeks, receiving chemo every day.  Having been through 4 sessions myself but with 3 weeks gap in between at least, I can only begin to imagine how this must feel for her and how frightened she must be. For those who have not experienced it, it is impossible to imagine what it will be like!

The one thing that I was totally unprepared for before my own chemo sessions, was how I could go into a hospital feeling reasonably well and within days feel the most ill I have ever been. It is difficult to get your head around how something that is designed to help clear you of cancer cells and make you better, actually makes you feel 100 times worse.

The word that my friend used on her first session is brutal and she is right. Chemotherapy is most definitely brutal.  Not only does it kill off defective cells, it kills healthy ones too and it leaves you feeling tired, sick, weak and old.

When I found out my friend would be undergoing chemotherapy, it was difficult to know what to say to her. Did I tell her things to prepare her?  Did I leave her in blissful ignorance? After all, everyone is on a different regime and everyone reacts differently so what I experienced might be very different.  The chemotherapy I had, was not going to be the same regime that she would have and the side effects would therefore be different too.  In the end, I was quite honest with the details that I gave her but was quite general, stressing that everyone is treated differently. 

I said to be prepared:  chemo is tough.  I told her to be honest with those treating her: treatments can be altered; side effects can be eased.  And I told her it was something that had to be done: because what was the alternative? Whether I said the right things or not, I don’t know.

After I was told I was to have chemo I got advice from a number of people some of which I found helpful, some I didn’t. The ones that upset me the most were from those who had never experienced it themselves, who told me I would breeze through it. Unfortunately, initially I didn’t! In fact, my second round was delayed due to the reaction that I had which would have left me too weak to cope with it all and made me very ill. These well meaning people had no idea and would have been better off saying nothing at all.

Nobody can be totally prepared for their first session and know exactly how they are going to react. It is not something you can predict. The hospital staff are brilliant at watching for signs, listening to concerns and making adjustments, so it is vital to be completely honest with them. You might not think anything can be done but they have many suggestions that just might make your treatment more bearable. They have seen it all before.

I thought long and hard about what to say to my friend and in the end decided that unless she asked me specific details, I would stay quiet. She knows I am here and that she can ask me anything at any time and get a truthful answer. I warned her she would be given lots of unsolicited advice. It comes from the heart and is well meaning but can often cause increased anguish but I also said I would be totally honest with her if she ever wanted me to be or needed me to be.

In reality I can only say how I coped with things and how I felt.  She has a totally different personality and outlook on life, she is dealing with completely different regimes and side effects and ultimately, she is in the best place – in hospital with nurses there to help, support and guide her through her chemotherapy journey.  It makes me so sad that she is having to go through this – scared to have visitors in case they pass on an infection, in a hospital bed away from her family and friends and knowing that however bad she feels now, she is likely to feel even worse, but I also know that without this, her life expectancy is distinctly shorter than it should be.  Going through this horrendous time will potentially give her a life to look forward to and we all want that for her.

In the meantime, my advice to anyone who has a friend going through cancer is: be there for them! Let them know that you are thinking of them and willing them on. Send encouraging messages, emojis, GIFs, cards, small gifts etc - whatever you think might brighten a bad moment for someone. Don’t expect a reply as the recipient just might not be up to that or may not want to talk, but know that each little message is a beacon of hope and a knowledge that other people are willing you on and care for you

.  I can quite honestly say that that can make a huge difference.

Deborah wrote this book over 12 weeks when she was recovering from operations and going through her own chemotherapy sessions.  When the idea of a book was mooted, she was unsure and it certainly wasn’t at the easiest of times for her, however, she was determined to do it, to show anyone undergoing cancer treatment that they are not alone and that the emotions and fears and anxieties that they will undergo are all perfectly normal. It is the kind of stuff that you don’t really know about or understand unless you have been through it yourself.

I would have found this book a good starting point for my own journey. It is not scientific, it does not go into statistics (something I studiously avoided) but it did make me understand some of my own feelings and fears, and help me to understand that it is ok to experience many different emotions all within the space of a few minutes. A lot of the things she talks about were exactly how I had been feeling, for example, how could I not know I had cancer?  How could I have bowel cancer when I’ve not eaten red meat for 40 years, am not overweight, don’t smoke etc? How can I get on with normal life? What is going to happen to me? The book takes us through diagnosis, various treatments, a range of emotions, how to cope with other people, how to help yourself feel better and how to celebrate each tiny milestone, with a list of helpful websites and bloggers at the back.

Deborah writes with wry wit and enormous wisdom – she’s seen it, she’s done it. Her case was more extreme than mine but she is still able to write funny irreverent snippets and with warmth, understanding and compassion. It is a book that you can dip into: short chapters, headed paragraphs and useful take away tips at the end. What I found particularly useful was to ask my husband to read it also so that he would have a better insight of how I might be feeling, why I might be moody and how he could give me the support that I needed. 

F*** You Cancer has been described as ‘a friendly funny warm companion for those in the cancer club.’ It is a club that nobody wants to join but is increasing in membership. Although this might not be your type of book, I found it incredibly helpful in validating my own thoughts and helping me through some dark times.  Might be worth you having a look if you have had a diagnosis or if you are trying to support someone you care about.

The world was stunned by the revelation. Here was a young woman in the prime of her life. She was fit, slim and had the best food, drink and medical advice available to her. She wanted for nothing.  She was so far removed from the majority of us in her lifestyle and yet … she was telling us that she had been struck with the same illness so many thousands of ordinary folk are hit with each year. And her face showed that despite her wealth and privilege, hearing the word cancer meant that she was experiencing the same fears as everybody else. Will I die? Can it be cured? How will it affect me?  Will I lose my hair?  How do I tell my children?

And although she had the same worries and fears, she had additional ones too. In recent weeks she has undergone intense scrutiny as she recovered from her planned abdominal surgery. Where was she? Why hadn’t anyone seen her? Hiding away to recover from a surgery that would take many weeks to fully get over was not seemingly allowed. The rumours and scaremongering got increasingly worse until she felt pressured into making her very public statement, at a time when she needed the space to process what had been said to her and what it meant for her future. She also needed the time to decide when it was best to tell her children and to minimise their concerns and fears.

Several aspects of her story resonated significantly with me despite our very differing circumstances. I too had abdominal surgery and was told the likelihood was that my tumour (which I had been told was cancer) would be removed and that would be that. Following investigation of the lymph nodes taken, I was told minor traces had been found and that preventative chemotherapy was recommended. I had a choice of sorts. I didn’t have to have the chemotherapy and perhaps the Princess was told the same, but it was advisable, as a ‘mopping up’ procedure to remove any lingering cells. They couldn’t guarantee that it would remove everything or that I would never get cancer again, but it was a sensible thing to do to help prevent a return. In that situation, I felt the choice had already been taken away from me.

I didn’t suffer the public pressure that the Princess has to reveal my situation, instead it was revealed for me and at a time when I didn’t want it to be! I was still processing the news and coming to terms with what I had been told when people in my village started coming up to me to express their sorrow, to tell me of their various relatives who had had cancer and what had happened to them (not always encouraging) and it was too much for me to cope with. I had told a small group of people and one of them had decided to spread the news far and wide – not just in my village but in the neighbouring ones also. It wasn’t helpful and put me under intense pressure.

Luckily my children were much older than George, Charlotte and Louis and able to understand what I was telling them. But finding the right time to tell them and my parents was tough. It had to be when I felt ready and strong enough as I wasn’t sure how they would react – if there were tears, I didn’t want to be in tears also. If they were frightened, I wanted to be strong enough to look and sound brave and allay those fears. The difference between my children and Catherine’s are that being older, they were far more aware of the risks involved, the life expectancy and what lay ahead.

Catherine’s message was incredibly powerful. To be seen in such a public way at probably your most vulnerable time is nothing short of astonishing.  To explain why she had remained silent so that she could explain ‘in a way that is appropriate for them (her children) and to reassure them that I am going to be ok,’ took courage and to explain that her family needs ‘some time, space and privacy,’ are so relatable and totally understandable.  She should get that privacy and time and be left to deal with everything in her own way, in her own time and with the support of her close friends and family, just like any other cancer sufferer.

What is so powerful about Catherine’s statement is that she has shown quite clearly that cancer is no respecter of age, social status or privilege. It can affect anyone at any time and often without any warning. Cancer does not bow down to royalty as we have clearly seen in recent months with the King, the Princess of Wales and the Duchess of York all going public with their cancer diagnosis. But despite their privilege, they are human beings, just like the rest of us, who will be undergoing the same feelings of insecurity, vulnerability and fear that everyone else goes through.

Catherine said that she is ‘well and getting stronger every day.’ That is great news. Some days will be better for her than others. Some days will be very tough. Some days she will sail through and smile and laugh and be happy.  We can only hope that she has many of those and is soon back into full Royal life. What she has done in speaking so openly and frankly is to show that cancer can hit anyone and hopefully it will prompt many others to get themselves checked out or to speak out about their own treatment. She has in some way normalised what is a very scary word and a terrifying situation to be in. I hope that one day, she will be confident enough and brave enough to share what type of cancer she has but at the moment she is entitled to her privacy and to deal with things as and when she feels able to.

What Catherine has is the support of the nation and the very best medical care which does keep her apart from us mere mortals who struggle to get a doctor’s appointment and are hit with long waiting times, long distance journeys for treatment and not always the best care available.

She ends her message asking all those who are suffering with cancer and for their loved ones to ‘..not lose faith or hope. You are not alone.’  For many of us it can feel that we are. We cannot get the reassurance we need from medical staff and we are not in a position to pay for it. We sometimes don’t have close friends and family around us to help in those difficult moments but she is right in some ways, we are not alone. The cancer community is a powerful one. We support each other. We understand the anxiety that hits at unexpected times, the concern over recovery times, the worry over finances, cancer returning, our families and so on. There are people there online, in cancer care centres and in our communities that we can reach out to if we are brave enough to do so. But knowing that the Princess of Wales and the King are also fighting the same disease will hopefully bring courage, support and hope to many more people.

I send the Princess of Wales my very best wishes for a speedy recovery, for a return to good health and fitness and for many happy years ahead. And at this moment, I suspect she is sending those to everyone else in her situation as she now has a full understanding of what it is like to go through cancer treatment and all the issues that it subsequently raises.

Please get yourself checked if you have concerns. Do not put it off. Ask for tests. Discuss your fears (if you can get an appointment) and seek advice and help.  The sooner a cancer diagnosis is made, however terrifying, the sooner you can get set on the road to recovery.

For all those who have had cancer or are undergoing cancer – Keep the faith.  Keep strong.  Keep going.  There is light at the end of the tunnel, so seize each moment of happiness , look to the future and make plans for all those things you want to do when you are back on the road to recovery.

I’ve never watched The Hairy Bikers, a programme that combined cooking with motorbikes, neither of which I am particularly interested in, but I did know of Dave through his appearance on Strictly Come Dancing and through subsequent interviews conducted after his diagnosis.  He struck me as a very down to earth man who was candid about his chemotherapy and the effects it was having on him. He didn’t shy away from the truth that chemo is brutal at times. He told us he was devastated about losing his trademark long hair and beard which was a huge part of his identity and how his balance was affected which meant he couldn’t ride his beloved motorbikes.  He told us that he was fearful, stating ‘It’s the word, isn’t it?  The word that everybody fears.’  He showed us that despite his fame, he reacted in the same way as most other people do and also that cancer shows no respect for fame and fortune, it strikes rich and poor, young and old – it doesn’t discriminate.

Dave never revealed the type of cancer he had which is quite something for someone in the public eye. It remains a secret and I admire his determination to do that. His reasons were to stop people speculating: about his treatment, about his prognosis, about his future and also to stop people becoming  amateur doctors after googling the cancer and offering him a multitude of well-meaning advice, something which can be overwhelming and often unhelpful. Although we don’t know for certain that Dave Myers died of his cancer, the likelihood is that he did or it had an effect on his overall health.

I read about his loss and was deeply saddened but it also brought back some of my own anxiety. I was never told I might die but that fear is always there, even if it is tucked to the back of your mind. I was never told that the cancer would return, but I still worry that it might.  I was never told that the first two years are the most likely time for it to come back and I am pleased that I did not know that at the time. Everyone who has had cancer will know that as time goes by and health returns, the fears and worries can be kept under control but I do wonder if that fear every truly goes.  If I have an unusual ache or niggle my first thought is cancer – though I never thought that pre diagnosis.  If I am feeling really ropey or lacking energy I wonder if my cancer has come back in a different place. I don’t want to feel that way but I can’t help it and if I am run down, tired or just feeling low, those anxieties can quickly get out of control.

Someone asked me why I was affected by other people dying of cancer when it wasn’t me and I found it hard to put into words. Cancer is a scary illness.  Many people are treated and go on to live happy and healthy lives, many unfortunately do not. I am so grateful for all that was done for me and I try to live my life in a way to show that gratitude, but the death of those I know or don’t know hits me badly every time – There but for the grace of God go I.

Dave and his onscreen partner Si had just filmed a new series of The Hairy Biker, currently being shown. Dave was happy, he was thinner and had shorter hair but looked well, he was back riding a bike after suffering from neuropathy and balance issues. To all intents and purposes, he was doing well and looking like he had recovered, so to then hear of his sudden death, without warning, without an obvious decline, is shocking.

Cancer can strike anyone at any time. There may not be any warning signs.  Surely this is a reminder to make the most of life, to seize opportunities, to have fun, to spend time with those you love and to forever  be thankful for what we have. None of us know how long our lifetime will be so live each day to the full.

Hearing of cancer deaths may always hit other sufferers hard but it is understandable. We are being reminded of our own health issues, our vulnerability, our  anxieties but we must remember that it doesn’t mean that we will necessarily suffer the same fate. Acknowledge your fears, accept your sadness and grieve, but then go for it – live your life as best you can.  From what I saw of Dave Myers, I think that is what he would have said to us.

Tips

Allow yourself time to grieve and accept the loss but try not to link it with your own illness/diagnosis. Every cancer patient is different. 

Don’t allow others to make you feel bad or stupid about grieving or being anxious, it is normal to feel this way. Every reference to cancer can make you feel anxious and concerned about your own well-being. Seek help if you feel it is getting out of control.

Listen to your medical team and ask any questions you feel the need to ask to understand your cancer, your symptoms and your fears. They understand and will do their best to help you.

Try not to dwell on the dark side of cancer and treat each day anew. Have fun, grab opportunities and make the best of each day.  Keeping busy helps to keep fears and anxiety at bay.

Accept that some days are going to be harder than others. It happens to everyone, but try not to let it colour the next day or the next. Treat each day anew and deal with one day at a time.

Live each day to the full!

How can I be a good friend to somebody going through a cancer diagnosis? 

I was asked the other day what makes a good friend to someone who is dealing with cancer and it made me think. It is not an easy question to answer as everyone reacts differently when they are given a diagnosis and their thoughts may also change at different points in their treatment and recovery. Some people want to hide themselves away, deal with it themselves and then move on without referring to it once treatment is over. Others need to be able to express themselves, to talk about their diagnosis and the way they are feeling on that particular day, so who really knows what is right and what is wrong?! Through my own experience though, I did come to some conclusions because lots of people reacted to my news in many different ways.

My own experiences might be very different to yours as my diagnosis came at the tail end of the Covid pandemic when there were restrictions on where you could go and still lots of fears about being around other people when we had spent so much time isolating. In some ways I was lucky to be diagnosed and go through the bulk of my treatment through the summer months as I could sit in the garden and have visitors somewhere I felt quite safe from catching infections.

I was surprised by the way some of my friends reacted to my own diagnosis, but was lucky that the majority were incredibly supportive sending positive messages, cards, texts etc. I personally wasn’t keen on phone calls as I didn’t feel like talking directly to people during chemotherapy or in my immediate recovery from surgery – texts and messages meant I could read and respond in my own time, when I was feeling well enough and strong enough to do so. My house resembled a florist due to the kindness of so many people who sent flowers – I really was totally overwhelmed. In the beginning there were so many and I loved them all, but it was also nice a few months down the line when my treatment was completed to receive  some either through the post or from someone’s garden as an added pick me up because often you are still feeling rubbish but think you should be better. Those that knew me well realised that there isn’t an instant ‘back to normal’ feeling when treatment finishes and often the after effects can hit very hard many months later, so an unexpected gift was a huge and very thoughtful pick me up.  Sometimes people sent me funny films or Gifs, emojis or just very short messages designed to make me smile or chuckle and because they didn’t expect a reply, the pressure was eased on me.

Short visits were also very welcome and even more appreciated when people rang my husband first to ask if it was convenient, if I was asleep or if I was well enough for a visit. Several people brought home made cakes to share with the family, a lovely treat since I wasn’t up to doing any baking of my own. Others brought books or magazines to help pass the time. I’m not saying that everyone should send or take gifts all the time as having company was the most important thing, but it was a lovely treat when it did happen.

I know that it is often difficult to know what to say. Do you ask about treatment or surgery or is that too intrusive? In my case I was quite happy until I was asked if my bowel motions were all normal now!! If friends understand how you are feeling or what difficulties you might be having then they have a better idea of how they might be able to help, but try not to be insensitive or intrusive. I had others that popped cards through the door telling me to get in touch if I needed anything and that was very thoughtful but can also be difficult. None of us like admitting we are struggling and need help so another approach could be to ring and say ‘I am off to the supermarket, is there anything I can pick up for you while I am there?’ I would find it much easier to respond to that  than asking someone to go specifically on my behalf.

Telling someone you know how they feel is not a great idea. Unless you have been through exactly the same experience you really do not know how it feels and even if you have, everyone reacts differently. Drug regimes, treatment regimes and individual needs vary considerably from person to person. You don’t actually know that things will ease, that someone will recover fully or that it won’t be as bad as you think, so perhaps avoid saying them in the first place. You could instead perhaps say, ‘I don’t know how it feels or how hard it is for you, but I would like to help you to feel better.’

There were times when I felt really rough and spent a great deal of time on my own. Sometimes that is what I needed and at others, it was comforting to have someone just there: not necessarily talking or fussing, but just around so that I knew I wasn’t on my own. Occasionally I would have someone bring their knitting or a book and sit with me. If I fell asleep it didn’t matter, if I felt like a chat I could – no demands,  just availability and comfort.

I had one very good friend who would suggest short outings. She would check that the dates suited my treatment regime, check on the morning that I felt ok and we would head out – not particularly far and not too adventurous, but just getting outside and doing something normal felt wonderful. As I wasn’t driving I had less pressure on me and if I felt ropey we would return home again. These glimpses of normality and having fun were a huge boost and I shall be forever grateful to her. (I still don’t think she realises how much she did for me.) Making plans for future activities was also important as it gave me something to look forward to and the hope that life would return to normal in the not-too-distant future.

Another friend recently told me that she had just heard a neighbour had received a diagnosis and that although she didn’t know her well, she wanted to do something but didn’t know what.  My suggestion was to pop a note through her door with a short message acknowledging what was going on, her phone number and the suggestion that she would call round at some point to see how she was doing.  I also suggested that if she liked to, she could include a magazine or puzzle book to help pass the time. If the neighbour didn’t want her to call she could then ring or get someone else to ring and say please don’t call for the time being. To me this shows you care, that you would like to be useful but not intrusive.  You may disagree with me – as I said we are all different.

These are just some basic suggestions and you may have different ones of your own. (Please do share if you have.)  Knowing that people cared was a huge thing for me. I could feel people willing me on and giving me encouragement. I didn’t necessarily want lots of sympathy but understanding that there would be days I felt totally rubbish, didn’t want to communicate or engage etc and that this was ok. I knew they wouldn’t take offence and I could be honest. Just as importantly, two years down the line, I am still finding some things hard and I still seem to have some after effects which are causing discomfort, so knowing that I  have that continued support and understanding is just as important. I don’t like to harp back and say ‘I have had cancer,’ but there is no doubt it still has an effect on the way I feel and the way I react to things at times, so that continued understanding is vital. I am a different person to the person I was pre diagnosis and that isn’t something I necessarily like, but something I have to deal with.

So, my advice on how to be a good friend is be you.

·        Don’t compare yourself to your friend with cancer

·        Be understanding of the way someone might be feeling and how that can change from day to day

·        Offer specific help rather than an open-ended offer

·        Don’t put expectations on your friend which might put them under pressure

·        Offer company, outings or just being there

·        Don’t take offence if your offers are turned down, some people strive to keep their independence and would prefer to battle on in their own way and in their own time

·        Expect nothing but give what you can (in terms of time, encouragement and support)

·        Ensure that whilst supporting your friend, you are not taking on so much that you end up feeling unwell yourself or drained of emotional energy!

And thank you. Thank you for being a true friend.  A friend that is there through thick and thin. 

If you can remain being a friend through what potentially is the hardest and most awful time of someone’s life, then you are probably a friend for life.  Your kindness, understanding and support will not be forgotten.

Cancer ghosting is when people you consider friends, learn of your cancer diagnosis and  instead of being there to help and support you, they  reduce or cut off  contact with you for one reason or another. It may be the contact is reduced to nothing over a period of time or it may be a sharp short cut off.  This can be particularly shocking when you are  feeling vulnerable and dealing with issues such as surgery, hair loss and generally just feeling rubbish.

It can be a huge shock when your best friend isn’t there for you, somebody you have known for years, shared the ups and downs of life and who you yourself may have supported through a difficult time. It can be hurtful to feel abandoned at the time when you most need to surround yourself with a strong support network and even worse if you reach out to them and are rebuffed. It catches you unawares, you are unprepared, you would never do it yourself … or would you?  I’m no fan of ghosting but the more I look into it, the better I am at trying to understand potential reasons for it and whereas, I still feel it is unforgiveable to turn your back on a friend who has just had a cancer diagnosis, I can empathise to a certain degree.

How do you know if you are being ghosted?  It's not always easy to spot immediately, especially if it is ‘soft ghosting’ when someone you know well gradually reduces the times they communicate or interact with you but don’t fully cut off all contact. You will probably find that your 'ghost' stops answering your messages or texts, or no longer responds to your media posts. They might start cancelling plans you have made and not be able to commit to alternative proposed dates, saying ‘I’ll get back to you later,’ or ‘I’ll let you know.’ They might stop sharing their own personal information or go out socially but not tell you what they are up to.

Why might someone ghost you?  At first I couldn’t think why anyone would be so heartless but the more I thought about it, the more I realised there could be lots of different reasons. Telling a good friend you have cancer is tough, but it is also tough for them to hear it. There is a natural fear in all of us of saying the wrong thing and making things worse, not wanting to see our friend get sick, be in pain and suffer, knowing there is not a lot we can do to help or knowing that the prognosis is not good and there is a possibility that we might lose our good friend. They may have also experienced cancer within their own family and feel that they cannot deal with it again. When you think of it that way, it seems natural for them to want to protect themselves by avoiding the situation or removing themselves from the situation. We can all have feelings of helplessness, that there is nothing we can do to take the pain away but we may also perhaps feel guilt, the guilt that it is our friend that is ill and not ourselves, the guilt that we can still go out and have a good time while our friend is struggling to eat and is confined to the house or worse. It is an inherent feeling that we might want to protect ourselves by walking away from the situation and it can take courage to stick with it through thick and thin. For many, a cancer diagnosis is just too much for them to handle especially if they are having troubles of their own.

So whilst it is hurtful, there are valid reasons for someone to ghost you. One would hope that in time reasons would be given, apologies would be made and life could move on but in reality you may never know the specific reason why someone ghosted you and you may never get closure.

What can you do if you feel you are being ghosted?  The main thing is to face reality but protect yourself. Understand that you will possibly lose some friends and surround yourself with people you know will be there for you and provide you with that essential strong support group. Those who choose to step away cannot give you what you need at this difficult time, so let them go, but there are others who can and you may be pleasantly surprised who does step up and the new friends that you might make. I certainly found this and have since formed a great friendship with some of them whereas before we were more just acquaintances. Surprising as it may seem, a nice by product of this experience is that cancer can introduce you to a new support group and create a new network of friends ensuring that you don’t isolate yourself. Nobody should go through cancer feeling alone.

Social ghosting can take place at any stage in your life and in many different circumstances and we will all no doubt have to deal with it at some point, but the important thing is to realise what it is, accept it and move on quickly. Don’t take it as a personal fault of your own, but recognise what is happening and ensure that you don’t unintentionally ghost others! If you can recognise the signs, have some empathy but look after yourself, then you should get through it, make new connections and move on to happier times with people you know and trust.

Tips:

Accept that some people will not be able to be there for you. Don’t dwell on it.  Accept, empathise (if you can) and move on – there are others who will no doubt step up.

Invest your time and emotions in people you know will be there for you no matter what. Make new friends and form a strong support network so that you do not isolate yourself. We all need help at times.

Ask friends to be open and honest with you. If they are finding your diagnosis hard but feel they can explain why then there is hope for the friendship to move forwards and flourish. It isn’t easy for a good friend to see you so ill and vulnerable.

Tell friends that you are not expecting them to be there 24/7 but would enjoy a chat, a coffee, a short walk or a phone call when you are feeling well enough. If friends know that you are not going to be demanding they are likely to be able to support you better.

If you are spending too much time and energy on people who cannot support you, then let them go.  You have to focus on yourself and your energy levels and difficult relationships will just you drain you of much needed energy.

Reconnect afterwards if YOU want to. If you feel able to have an honest conversation and listen to feelings experienced on both sides, then there is no reason why you can’t move on but it is your choice. If you feel too hurt then let them go.

Enjoy your new friendships and if someone you know has a similar diagnosis, remember how you felt and what helped you and be that friend who is an amazing support.