So, I have to tell you something…

I’m back after a seemingly long break and this time it’s personal.  This is a difficult post to write mostly because I don’t want to alarm or worry anyone unnecessarily but I feel I owe it to those who know me and those who follow me on Twitter avidly about why my mood has been up and down like a yo-yo over these past few months.

During the summer, I received some worrying news from the doctor.  I’m not a fan of sitting in the waiting room and it’s highly unusual for me to put in a personal appearance at the GP’s as it would seem I am blessed to have a good health.  However, the moment I am not sure about something, I won’t ignore the signs.  I always tell myself that it’s better to face the truth sooner than when it turns ugly later and much to my relief, things have always turned out OK.

But one day in July turned out to be the darkest day for me when I received a call from my GP reporting an unusual sighting from a routine test.  He was referring me to hospital immediately for further tests and told me the matter was serious.  I have never been in hospital for any kind of treatment or operation, I am never ill so this news terrified me, more so when I decided to delve deeper into what was wrong with me.

I couldn’t be bothered to concentrate on work and I couldn’t give a toss that I was going on holiday.  When I told my parents and my closest friends, it was impossible to fight the tears but the way my parents reacted was incredible.  I knew they were worried but on the outside they put on a strong front which had a calming effect on me.  I found talking about it was a great way to release the stress and anxieties, even when it led to bursting into tears.  I must admit, I walked around like a zombie for the first month or so as I came to terms with the reality of what I was facing.

Work was hard as was putting on a brave face in front of colleagues and not allowing this thing to get in the way.  I lost interest in the blogs I write for, fell behind with finishing off some photography work and had no motivation for the baking I loved doing so much.  Goals I was in the middle of setting myself went out of the window and the future didn’t matter, all I could think about was here and now.

The hardest part came after the initial blow and that was the long wait for my test results from the hospital.  This took almost three months and I can tell you it was horrible.  I read up as much as I could on the internet until it got to the point where I had to stop myself contemplating the worst.  At the same time, I did learn a lot and was effectively prepared for all eventualities. I was confused too.  I couldn’t understand why this had to happen to me.

When the big day finally arrived (and this sounds stupid), I found the walk to the hospital from the tube station agonising and it was difficult to stop my eyes from welling up.  I was called in by the consultant (by which then I had composed myself) and he gave me the news.  I don’t want to talk about exactly what’s wrong because it is a very sensitive matter and just opening up about this experience is a big deal for me but I will say this much – I felt immense relief that finally I had some solid answers and I knew what I was dealing with.  I also felt very lucky and thankful that I had been given the best possible outcome and in a way, I was glad I had been prepared for the worst for the truth was much easier to handle.  I am sure people will speculate but coming from the person who knows best, I can best describe it as a glitch.

I do feel like I’ve been given a second chance but also, I can’t stop thinking about how I was led onto this path.  Had I not decided to get checked out by the doctor, I’d have carried on living my life, totally unaware of what was brewing inside me.  I don’t even know why I went, I guess it was a gut instinct.

You don’t realise your own strength until you’re given a mighty whack in the face and this was my mighty whack.  I was a wuss when it came to needles but now I had no choice but to put up and shut up.  I had psyched myself up and was ready to take on whatever I was expected to go through so when my consultant asked when I wanted to start treatment, I didn’t hesitate to say ‘immediately’.  The sooner I started, the sooner this nightmare would be over.  As a patient you do have the choice to say no but when treatment is offered, why would you decline it?  Besides, I didn’t want to take any chances with the future where I knew the consequences could be much worse if I left it untreated.

I have begun treatment which is for a few months and as with any medication, it’s not a walk in the park.  I have good and bad days, and the last few days have been pretty crap to say the least.  I have an incredible nurse looking after me who’s truly an angel.  We get on so well and he is so wonderful, I do believe such care is half the reason why I am in good spirits.

I have been feeling very low emotionally and drained physically, and unfortunately it’s beyond my control when it’s down to the drugs.  It’s pretty intense but you know what, I am determined to get through this.  The thing is, I can’t do this alone.  It’s the support and encouragement from my family and friends who are cheering me on at the finishing line that is enabling me to put up with this gruelling process.

At times when I’ve lost it, I’ve been touched by messages of support from strangers and friends on Twitter.  I do hope I don’t come across as some kind of mentalist!  When you see me, I am fine and happy, and I don’t think for a second about the ‘glitch’, which is a far outcry from the time when I couldn’t stop thinking about it.  Unfortunately I do get moments of sadness and frustration  usually when I’m alone and I feel tired and frustrated.  I had to cancel my weekend plans recently because I was too exhausted and consequently, I haven’t stopped crying but today as I write this, I am buoyantly content.  So, I am taking each day as it comes.  I don’t deserve an award for bravery, I know there are others dealing with much worse matters and to me, they’re the heroic ones.  I’m just grateful I am managing to handle this without casting a shadow on others and being a pain in the backside.

Now I don’t wish to scare anyone into thinking they might have something.  I have written this post to share my experience, to explain why I had been unhappy and why my mood has affected my actions.  I also hope that by writing this I may encourage people not to put things off when they get a letter in the post from the doctor for a check-up or when they sense something isn’t right.  Believe me, if there is something wrong, the earliest it is detected, the better it is for you and if it’s a false alarm, then you don’t have anything to worry about.

I’d like to thank everyone who’s endured my eratic tweets and moans of misery, and for not deserting me when I probably drove them mad.  It’s not over yet but I can say I’m on the road to recovery.  There will be times when I will struggle and I can only apologise in advance but I promise you it’s not forever and I will always be indebted for your help, support and understanding.  (Hope I didn’t go on too much!)

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