Well i don’t really know where to start on this chapter. This is Wes writing. Many of you will already know and others may guess by the fact that it is me writing this and not Carl that it is not good news. Carl passed away peacefully on the 20th November at Severn hospice where she had been for a week after being admitted in order to get her pain under control.

I have given a lot of thought on how to go about writing this and to be honest I’m still not sure but I know Carl wanted me to give it a go. I guess I will just go back to the end of the last chapter and carry on from there. I’ll give you the heads up…I have a terrible memory so I apologise if I miss anything out or get things in the wrong order. Also, unlike Carl who could talk for Britain, I am a man of relatively few words so I know it wont be up to the incredibly high standards Carl has set in previous chapters of her heartbreaking yet inspirational journey.

Carl had been home from the hospice for a few days. She was so happy to be back where she belonged but was beginning to feel frustrated. Frustrated at her loss of independence and all of the changes to her life. It was becoming a balancing act of making memories but not over doing it. This was really hard for Carl. She was so strong willed and found it hard to accept that she couldn’t do what she used to be able to do. Despite this, we did make a lot of memories, had some lovely days out with family and friends and some great nights away.

We had a fantastic day pumpkin picking at Apley Farm with the little man, the Guthries, Jodie and Claire. We had a great time (I think the kids enjoyed it too), and this led to our pumpkin carving competition. It will come as no surprise that the great British public are crap at voting for anything. The majority of people voted for the wrong pumpkin as neither Carl nor me came close to winning! (Well done though Amz!). This lovely day was followed by a week of (trying to) rest.  Visits from family and occasional district nurses visits made up most of the days.

We had a night booked in an “eco dome” glamping pod in Gloucestershire however a day before this we had an email to tell us that due to torrential rain it wasn’t available. They did offer an alternative, an annex in their barn conversion. We went for it and were so glad we did. We had the most relaxing few days. I’m so grateful we got to spend those few days just Carl and me. It was a real chance to relax, eat well, drink (probably) too much and reflect on everything and despite everything realise how lucky we were to have each other. It was priceless and a time I will always treasure as I’m sure Carl did too. It was also a time I realised I have a natural gift for monopoly. Played 2, won 2.

Back to normality though and whilst well rested it was back to the same old same old. The district nurses were all fantastic but it was a struggle (not of their making though I have to say) to be able to get hold of all of Carls medications. She was on a lot of medications and some were easier for the pharmacists to access than others.                     It was also around this time that Carl was starting to experience quite a lot of pain in her legs. Following an appointment with an extremely helpful and thorough GP (i can’t remember her name but Carl did email the surgery to compliment her), Carla was referred to have her legs scanned.  It was a mixed experience that day in the hospital. We were both impressed at the common sense shown by the lady doing the scan but we were less than impressed with the staff in AMU (telford). Without going into too much detail, their basic lack of care, empathy and understanding left us all frustrated. Carl was brought to tears when asked to vacate a bed when she was getting some rest (in a near empty department) as they said they needed it.                                                                              Anyway…. Carl was diagnosed with having a DVT (deep vain thrombosis) in her legs. She was prescribed a daily injection which would help with this.

The following weekend (and with Carl now starting to resemble a pin cushion) we were off to Thomas land and a night in the hotel. We decided to take the little man as well as we both thought it would be a bit strange otherwise.                                                                     Carl was still struggling with her legs as well as quite often being short of breath so we decided it would be best to take the wheelchair (on loan from the hospice).  Little man was in his element being able to see his favourite trains whilst being pushed around sat on Carls lap. I think it was mixed emotions for Carl. She enjoyed the day for what it was and to see how happy the boy was but missed being able to walk about herself and especially for having to put up with my driving!

As days went on, Carl was physically struggling more and more. Her legs were still causing her pain, she wasn’t sleeping very well and she would struggle to walk up stairs without becoming breathless. She was provided with a commode which would be kept downstairs to save the trek upstairs to use the loo. This became very useful for all of us.     Things were hard for Carl, although she wouldn’t admit it, I think Chaz and I were both aware her pain was getting worse and it was horrible for her to come to terms with the fact that things were not going to get better. She would never drive again, work again or realistically be able to leave the house on her own again. Small things that are taken for granted until you are unable to do them and naturally Carl was frustrated.                            Around this time Carl was very kindly given use of a mobility scooter by Sue and Andy. She loved it and did really well on her maiden voyage only to crash once in Lidl. Nobody even got hurt. A huge success i would say.

The following weekend, another trip away. Back to Barmouth and to the Caravan site with little man, Bobbie and Steve (Carls mum & husband), Stacy & mark and the boys and to meet up with Martin and Karen (Carls Dad & partner). It was the end of season party weekend and on the Sat night there was a Halloween fancy dress party.                      Carl was struggling both physically and mentally but it was a testament to her strength and character that she was even there, let alone with her beautiful smile. She loved to be by the sea and had been looking forward to this break for a long time.  We couldn’t have wished for better weather. Lovely sunny but cold days. Great for a walk on the beach or for Carl to admire the stunning views from the caravan. We were right on the seafront. The night of the party we were all in our fancy dress and the club was packed! The boys were all loving it running round like lunatics. It was a hard night for Carl, not only because it was so busy it was hard for her to get about but mainly she had told me how hard it was not being able to get up to dance and play with the boys as she usually would have done. The boys (well all kids for that matter) adored Carl and she loved them.             Sunday lunch booked for us all the next day. We were treated to yet another fantastic meal at the Bay restaurant. We had just finished our dinners when Carl said she wasn’t feeling very well so asked her dad if he could take her back to the caravan while we had our puddings (or deserts depending on where in the world ya from). Martin was clearly concerned and wanted to make sure his little girl was ok but also quite relieved to be getting out of the bill (not really and thank you!). Carl later told me that she was just feeling in so much pain but she didn’t want to get upset in front of the boys so just wanted to go and rest.                                                                                                                            We had planned a trip on a train the next day but even Carl agreed it best to just get home (a tell tale sign she wasn’t very well).

Carl was now back in touch with the hospice community link nurse to come up with a plan to help get her pain under control. She was so helpful and understanding in that at this moment Carl still wanted to be at home, she wanted to do what she could to help with this. A few phone calls, a bit of a change in medication… see how we go.

We had a night out at Oakengates theatre to watch “Rock for Heroes”. We had a great night and Carl was really glad to get out for the night. Bit of old school rock music by a good band, bit of humour and for a good cause. This was our last ever night out together, our last “date night”. It seems strange now, neither of us said at the time but i think we both knew we weren’t likely to do this again. Carl was looking at leaflets for things I could take little man to in the new year. The penny didn’t drop for me at the time but I guess Carl knew.

Back home and lots of visits from family and friends which i know Carl really appreciated. She was a people person and whilst perhaps common sense says you should rest, Carl loved being with her loved ones. There were ups and downs in this time, Carl very rarely complained about being in pain but she obviously was. I suppose if you are in constant pain as well as not sleeping it makes you less tolerant than you ordinarily would be. Carl wont mind me saying this, she would tell you herself….some of the time whilst her pain was at its worst she was snappy, that lead to me being snappy back sometimes which I’m not proud of and there were arguments. I’m not making excuses but it was a scary and stressful time. Despite this there was more smiling and laughter even at this stage whether it be with little man just being himself, dog sitting or just us all as a household taking the piss out of each other (if you’ve met Chaz you would realise its quite hard not to take the piss!)

Carls good friends Jeannette and Sharon came over for a couple of days to see her. I know she was so grateful for this. They live at opposite ends of the country so its rare for them to get together. Carl was in a lot of pain at this time and it had gotten to a point where she had contacted the hospice with a view to being admitted to get the pain under control. A couple of days passed, Carl could barely get out of bed but eventually when the call arrived to say there was a bed for her she broke down in tears. They were tears of relief. I can only assume she was in more pain than she had been letting on. She needed to rest.

So a few more tears of relief (from us both) we packed Carls bags and made the short journey over to the hospice. The staff there are amazing. A lot of lovely warm “welcome back” hugs for Carl and even a couple for me.                                                                                 It was very quickly apparent that it was all about getting Carl pain free. This is what was needed. She was desperate for a rest. Her pain relief was increased, other meds tweaked…. they were very proactive at doing what was best to get Carl comfortable.           Carl was now sedated and sleeping a lot of the time. Difficult for those coming to see her (a lot less visitors this time) but whilst she was asleep she wasn’t in pain.                                The days seem to mingle into each other, Chaz, Bobbie, Jodie, Martin, Karen, Steve and myself were there the majority of the time. Carl was rarely alone and when we weren’t the amazing staff were there. There were still moments of humour like when Carl was offered a wash she said to the carer that  “she just wanted to see her bits” (ya prob had to be there).                                                                                                                                                   Carl had been there a week, majority of close friends and family had been to see her which i know she appreciated. Bobbie had stayed the night in the family room. I was on my way in when Bobbie rang to say her breathing wasn’t too good. As i got there i could see she was struggling.  The nursing staff helped clear the fluid which helped briefly. At this point Martin and Karen were on the long journey from Barmouth. Jodie was on her way,  Chaz coming in from work. Steve was already there with Bobbie. Carl was struggling to get her breath so they came to clear the fluid again. We left the room, moments later the nurse called us back to tell us Carls breathing had changed. We went back in, Carl was breathing slowly now and no longer fighting for breath. She was peaceful. A few moments later her breathing had stopped, The Doctor came in to confirm what we already knew.                                                                                                                          The time after this is personal to family so should remain private other than the fact that as shit as it was and despite having time to get your head around things, none of us were entirely prepared for the time. We were however relieved that Carl was no longer in pain.

I will mention the funeral only briefly. The planning was made so easy as Carl had already informed us all of her wishes (emailing us all the details). This took so much pressure off us all and I am so grateful to her for this. The day itself went in a bit of a blur but it was an amazing send off for an amazing lady. Standing room only at the crematorium, a guard of honour by work colleagues (which was a fantastic sign of respect). So many people there to show their love and respect for Carl. We were all very moved by this and just knowing how many lives Carl had touched can bring some comfort to us.

I have tried as much as possible to not put my emotions across whilst writing this last chapter as it is Carls journey and has been all the way though with what she has written.  I know she has found writing this blog hugely helpful to herself but that her biggest hope was that it may help others who are going through similar shitty situations relate and understand that there are others in the same boat. That was Carl, she always thought of others and if she could do anything to help, she would. She was an amazing lady and i wouldn’t swap the brief time we had together for anything.  She taught me to be a nicer, kinder person and I’ll do my best to make sure that her legacy carries on.                           She would always look at the bigger picture and look for the good in people and as I said if she could help someone, she would.                                                                                               Carl has encouraged me to write something from my perspective of the “cuntcer” journey. I think I will as I always like to do as I’m told. I think she knows it will be therapeutic for me as a none talking bloke and may help others going though the same shit as well.

I would like to say a huge thank you on behalf of Carl to everyone who has read this. It really did mean the world to her.

thank you

 

 

I think I will start this chapter with ‘tonight’, and then work backwards in time.I have had a lovely catch-up with the beautiful Alina and Lynn. I have also sat today with a very heavy heart, just like I have done for much of this week…

I’ve been the one putting on that ‘mask’ to leave the house. I’ve snapped and felt angry with those around me who try to offer help and advice – or just try to get me to sit and relax. I’ve felt that I might as well go and sit in my hospice bed and wait for it all ‘to slip away’, just like every ounce of independence is just slipping away from me.

So I’ve sat in floods of tears this morning, so f**ing angry at the world and the things that happen. ‘Cuntcer’ has become a daily struggle this week, one that is just too difficult to try and put into words at all.

But it’s like this;

I can’t get my shoes on due to my feet swelling.

I’ve had to buy bigger clothes due to the tumours.

I get out of breath sometimes doing the smallest of things.

I’ve gone from a couple of medications to more than 16 per day.

Then there are those people that have seen me face to face and told me to contact them ‘if you need anything.’ Then they’ve switched off from social media, but they don’t have the balls to say why. I guess this is because they don’t think they can approach me because I have cancer (playing games). Yet I’m here struggling to decide whether how I feel is ‘normal’, or should I look at taking a different anti-depressant?

As a family we have had the added stress of losing a precious little life this week – Lucas, who would have been 2 in December. At the moment it’s an ‘unexplained sudden death’, but these things never seem enough for people to act with more kindness and compassion towards each other.

On a better note, leading up to this last 7-10 days, life has been okay. We raised a further £700 from Stoke Heath Prison, taking the total up to £2700, and the new Just Giving page raising a further £220. The guys held a charity football match that I was able to watch, and there seemed to be so much love and support, it was wonderful.

We have made some more wonderful memories. Gail, Simon, myself and Wes had a lamb dinner (made by my beautiful sister), sat around our outside/inside dining table at the hospice. I had visits from many people and shared many a story: Aunty Kaz telling me all about her cruise trip, and my mum’s husband Steve being home, as it had seemed like an age this time. The beautiful girl who helps in the hospice came and gave me a makeover and some fantastic products that I was allowed to keep. I an not a ‘make -up girl,’ but this really did feel special.

I also felt well enough for another small trip out, so we headed to Nandos for a spot of lunch, and I was able to get my sister a memory keepsake that she was so pleased with. We had a visit from Seb and Martha, not forgetting Ben and Mems and lots of others (to mention just a few – Ellen, Viv, Harry and the Guthries).

The consultant came to see us when Wes’ parents were with us. He was happy for me to head home the following Monday, which was fantastic news. Wes took his parents to the airport that afternoon, and it was a very difficult goodbye this time. Gail and I shared some very private and emotional messages that I will always treasure. 

I also had an interview with the hospice communications team about my stay in the hospice – it’s not just a place where you go to die, and how much more happens in these places. I was also asked to be involved in ‘Hospice UK Care Week’, which again involved my sharing my experience in the hospice – about how being there didn’t mean to me that the Grim Reaper was coming for me.

Monday came and homewards we headed. Little man was excited that I was coming home, and he wanted me to sit in the back with him, which of course I honoured. As we approached home, I was really nervous, as it had been four weeks since I had last been there. People had been amazing, and so many friends and family had done such kind things like ironing, cooking, washing, and the delivery of bottles of gin (Naughty Jules).

We started to meet the district nurses, who so far have been the most lovely down-to-earth people. They have encouraged me loads to be self-empowered, and teaching me to do my own syringe driver, and how to take one day at a time.

I have had a huge sort-out of clothes, and of all manner of shit that I don’t need, which I have given to close friends who have appreciated and helped me smile through the tears (Sharon, Claire, Alina, Stacey my Mum and Sister to name but a few).

We made some more memories with friends and family, and had lunch at Zizi, also a fun day out with family friends at Oktoberfest – and a fabulous weekend in Barmouth. We had a caravan on the sea front, just a stone’s throw to the sea from our front room window. There were also playdates with a mix of friends from Shrewsbury and Telford.

Whilst I’ve been sat writing this chapter, I’ve been feeling less angry and less negative. I’ve been able to remind myself how rich I am because of the beautiful friends and family I have around me, and how lucky and rich I am to have such people. Some people are not so lucky. So we stand again and look Cuntcer in the eye, and say f*** you Cuntcer!!!

https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/carla-michelle?newPage=True

 

 

 

 

 

With permission from Georgia, I would like to dedicate this chapter to a beautiful soul who reached out to me in October 2018, another person taken way too soon by Cuntcer. You will leave a massive hole, and you are in my heart with your family forever.

Arriving at the hospice was surreal. I travelled there in a chair with the hospital transport team and other patients. I was the youngest on the ambulance bus. The driver was kind and played us Smooth Radio for the journey. I don’t really remember getting to the hospice, but I know we went via a few places to pick people up. I arrived at the hospice in a lot of pain, due to the travel and the bumpiness of the ambulance. 

The staff at the hospice were amazing. On our arrival, they had my script faxed across and got me some extra analgesia. I felt the strangest experience, trying to hold conversations with friends and family whilst feeling spaced out, but also knowing that I was in horrendous pain that didn’t seem to be easing. 

I still had awful lower right-sided flank pain, and above it was a pain I could only describe as electric shocks that took my breath away!  The pain was unbearable, and the doctors gave me an injection of Lorazepam to relax me. I was safe and completely out of it, but for my loved one this was extraordinarily difficult to see, as I was just so zoned out, ‘on another planet’ but twitching. 

I woke a lot later in bed, with Wes at my side and all the others having gone home. Mum came back later, as she needed to see me again for herself – the afternoon had been very distressing for all the family that had been there. It was because I had been totally ‘zonked’ and unable to speak, but at long last I was out of pain, and I wanted to stay that way.

The next few days seemed to roll into one, so please forgive me if I seem to ‘bounce around’ with this chapter. And also forgive me if I do not mention all the individuals, because I have had so many ‘get well wishes’ and love sent for myself and my close ones. And many visitors – in fact so many that I have had to make an appointment diary in order not to make myself more tired, and also to have some Facetime video calls with friends. Those have been a fantastic way of catching up with those people who live far away, but please do not be offended if I cancel your intended visit – I am just shattered.

 

 

I will try to share some of the stories/times I have had with my visitors, but again my memory is really not the best at the moment.

We laugh at what we call my food menu – the ‘Menu of Doom and Death’, haha. Basically, I have been spoilt with food and drink of my choice. The cooks here at the hospice are amazing, and I have had some of the most wonderful cooked breakfasts, and beautiful home-made lunches and puddings. My sister has also cooked us some roast dinners, and we have had numerous deliveries of chocolates and cakes (I have no concerns of Wes and Chaz not being fed…).

One afternoon we were sat in the hospice garden, having a small Prosecco (obviously only tea for the visitors!) and meringue, when a robin flew across and smacked Wes straight in the middle of his forehead! Wes very much believed that this was a sign from his Nan, who had done much work for this hospice, and she was actually one of the ladies who had got the Newport Severn Hospice up and running. She was a wonderful lady by all accounts, and I felt honoured to be able to listen to his tales of her starting this wonderful charity. My mum then began to tell her story, what she thought was a similar one about her driving back home when she’d hit a pigeon, but unfortunately we were unable to see the similarity to the robin incident… But this story did cause us so many tears of laughter, as did many memories we shared with each other.

The nursing staff and doctors continued to be amazing, adjusting the drugs both in my syringe driver and orally, in the hope of getting on top of the pain with as few side effects as possible. I was sat with Chaz one day, and I asked him (apparently out of the blue), “Who are those three little men who have just been into my bathroom and emptied the bin?” Chaz smiled, and asked what I meant. I told him he was silly if he really expected me to believe that he had not seen them! And then I told him it was dark when you closed your eyes, and asked him to have a try. He played the ‘game’ with me, but days later he keeps on finding this very amusing…

The consultant came to see me that same day, and asked if I was having hallucinations. I was accusatory as to how she knew, but then she laughed with me as she was just asking the questions. The doctors and consultants here at the hospice are amazing; they laugh with me, they talk to me, they explain things to me, and it’s never a problem for them to spend time with family to answer all their questions as best and as honestly as they possibly can.

Following a discussion, we decided to change the analgesia around a little, as I was not quite sure I liked the little men who changed my bathroom bin!! The consultant also spoke with me about steroids, as they believed that this would help with the inflammation of the bowels, which they thought might be pressing on the tumour on my liver; the ‘electric shock’ pain I was getting was probably due to the nerves being squished. I was extremely reluctant to have steroids, due to the horrific weight gain I know these can cause. So I asked for some time to reflect before I made a decision, which of course was not an issue. The decision to have no more chemotherapy still stood, and it very much remained my decision and was supported. 

We spoke about my anti-depressants, and I explained that I felt I was a little numb and although I not did want to sit sobbing like a total wreck, I did feel I needed to be crying and feeling these normal emotions. The Doctor understood and agreed with what I was saying, and spoke with the consultant psychiatrist on my behalf. We came to a decision to change my medications, with close friends and family helping to keep an eye on my mood alongside myself.

The next day, after having a really stern chat with myself, I began the steroids. I had previously stopped the chemo for ‘quality of life’ reasons, which was a fair argument, but not to take steroids due to ‘vanity’ was just beyond crazy!! The consultant was pleased with my news, and between the steroids, laxatives and suppositories, I was able to start creating an album called ‘Poo Pictures’ (I will save you guys the images). My ‘poo album’ caused many a conversation and laughter… Unfortunately, the consultant I had just got to know was heading on to new pastures; I was gutted, she was so lovely.

 

In the middle of all this I had my Birthday, and I was able to get out for lunch – the first time I had been out with the syringe driver and also since the pain had taken over. Naturally I was nervous. We went for a meal locally with a few friends and family. My ‘Friend first, Boss second’ treated me. It was a fabulous afternoon, with much laughter and the traditional ‘Colin the Caterpillar’ cake. Little man insisted on eating the face and making sure I blew out my candles. The physio had sorted me with a mobility trolley, and little man loved it – it was our new toy to share! I had the most amazing birthday, being totally spoilt with singing, love and gifts, messages from the little people (real ones this time) and everything so honest throughout.

George had asked Stace on the way to seeing us, “Mum, why do people have to die?” It had made poor Stace lose her way, especially as it was not something they had spoken about in front of him, but I guess that children are resilient and the truth should never be hidden from them.

But there was the fabulous side of modern technology, being able to video call friends from the north and south of the country. But wow, was I shattered after all this! I needed to rest, as our plan was family time at the coast at the weekend and I was determined that we were going.

We had little man for the weekend, and it was just amazing. We headed to the coast on the Saturday for the two nights. The steroids seemed to be doing their job, and I felt reasonably well considering. The hospice had liaised withe the district nurses at the coast, and everything ran smoothly, with the changing of the syringe driver and breakthrough pain relief (the bonus of having “cuntcer”). Wes and I bagged the double bed (happy days!) and it was so great just to be wrapped in his arms again. (I will save you the details!!). We had arcade time, beach time, chips at the coast, a walk or spin along the promenade, and I had to trust Wes to drive me in my chair but in all honesty, he was the bestest driver.

We returned to the hospice on Monday, shattered but having made some fantastic memories.

The hospice is an amazing place, and really is not a place to be scared of. My mum several months ago did not want to come near the place, but now she is so happy that I am in a place that is full of caring, happy thoughtful staff; doctors, nurses, Nursing Assistants, Therapy workers, Creative workers, the vicar, psychologist, physios and many more – including my ‘proper’ man who empties my bin and gives me tips for fantasy football. The hospice is both family-friendly and child-friendly, with a beautiful park, summer shed, and gardens. Little man loves coming to see me, and he is always smiling whilst he is here. It’s so good that it is such a positive place for him and other children to visit, including ‘baby bean’ (and I can’t wait to meet her).

I have been bowled over by the fantastic work that is done here in the Hospice, and have felt compelled to set up a Giving page. I set a target of £150, and have donated some myself, and I’ve been overwhelmed at the kind response of friends and family who so far have raised £1850. My workplace has also organised a charity football game to raise money for the hospice. I would just like to take the time to say a huge ‘thank you’ to all who have donated, and also to those who read my blog and continue to read. I have attached the Giving Page at the end of this chapter, in case anybody wishes to add to this great charity.

https://www.facebook.com/donate/2446612162294739/?fundraiser_source=external_url

 

 

Where to start?

As most of you who are reading this know, I am sat in a hospice writing this next section of my blog. I have had a fantastic break from the trial, the medications and, most importantly, the Cuntcer. We have had some fun times; Shropfest in Ironbridge, fun family days out, pampering sessions, and catching up with friends – and that need-to-be workplace, but it’s always a fun experience there, with new and old clients. Such as clients returning to the establishment, seeing me alive and shouting that they’d been ‘had’, and wondering if I was okay, and I replied that I was still here and not dead yet!! For that reply, another client told me off, as they were offended by my terminology; a lot of them do care about me, and the clientele do make me smile. 

Sharon came from Newcastle, and we had a lovely weekend of catching up, drinking, eating, laughing, and taking several hours to watch a two-hour film… Our friend Claire joined us too for some of the time over the weekend, and we had some extremely tough conversations about bereavement, life, relationships etc… 

Then we had our perfect family Lea/Beach holiday. We had the most unbelievable week of sunshine, sea, play, fireworks, birthday BBQ on the beach, and making 

beautiful memories together. The three children were funny and delightful company, and it was just so wonderful to have no plans and to go with the flow for the full week, and also to catch up with our Spanish friends. We shared many tears of laughter; it was perfect.

 We had created Chaz a collage for his bedroom wall, as he had not seen us for three weeks;

 

We had a lovely afternoon at Eirians, and talked for ages over beautiful food and great company. Then a fantastic weekend afternoon/evening out with Amy and Russ, and joined throughout the day by my Mum, Ade, Jewels, Ellen and Andy, and later met Ivor, Charl and her brother and his partner. 

 

Early hours. I was doubled up in agony, and begged Wes/Chaz to get me to a hospital and get me some pain relief sorted. I went to the ED in Shrewsbury. I don’t remember a lot of being there. I was told I had a lot of morphine and other analgesia, but it was a struggle to get on top of the pain. I was admitted to AMU, my old ward, and had fantastic care and eventually transferred to 32 SS. I was still in a considerable amount of pain, and often vomiting – filling top-hat bowls full of vomit. The consultant of 32 SS is an amazing lady, very honest and to the point, so I was extremely glad to have her as my consultant. She  asked me if I would like her to tell me what was on my CT. She told me my CT had shown progression of the disease, but they did also need the one from London to compare them. I had an appointment with the oncology team coming up that Friday, so that was good!!

I messaged my community Severn Hospice nurse, as I should have had an appointment on the Tuesday. She sent the Palliative Pain Nurse to see me, and she spoke about giving my gut a rest and using a syringe driver. This idea naturally made me nervous, as I was going from being at work to needing a syringe driver, in order to get my pain and sickness under control and give me ‘sub cut’ morphine for the breakthrough pain relief. The Pain Nurse was very good, explaining things as clearly as possible.

They changed my driver on a daily basis, depending on the amount of breakthrough analgesia and anti-emetics I had received in the last 24-hour period.

The Acute Oncology Nurse came to see me too. She was very informative, and took details and contacted the research centre. The decision was made to stop the trial drugs for now, so we could take them out of the equation of adding to the pain etc.

The next few days were very much a blur, topped up to the brim on drugs. I had many visitors pop in and out whilst I was on ward 32 – some of whom I can remember, but others I haven’t a clue about…

One of the most memorable visits was probably after having had laxatives both ends. I had the commode in my room, and said to Claire, ‘I need the toilet, up to you,’ and she said, ‘No, I’ll stay in the room, I have seen you in worse states, no problem.’ Then my friend Eileen arrived, and I said the same to her, but she also seemed happy to talk to me whilst I sat on the toilet. I had already texted Amy to warn her, but she also wasn’t bothered, so I sat on the commode whilst they chatted to me… Three people, me, a commode and a bloody poo!! 

Little man came to see me on Bank Holiday with Nan. It was such a wonderful visit. He was on top form as normal, and little Harry also came to visit, bringing me his school uniform to show me and having cuddles on the bed. Wes and I also had a walk to the staff restaurant, and had lunch with one of the nurses whom we work with in our other establishment. That made a nice change of scenery.

My appointment day arrived. Wes wheeled me down, as I did not have the energy to walk that far, nor did I believe that I could walk with this bastard pain that the cuntcer was causing! I felt disappointed right from the start of the session, as it was not with my normal consultant whom I had got to know and he’d got to know me.

The appointment did not go how I expected it to. I was given no answers to my questions, and even though we had the CT from London, there had been no comparison done yet to enable me to decide if this pain was being caused by something particular, or by the whole progression of the disease.

I felt myself get cross in the appointment, and I asked Mum and Wes to take me back to the ward as I needed pain relief and bed. I had made a decision that I did not want any more chemo; just Quality of life now, not Quantity. It was a difficult discussion that I had with my immediate family. But they all agreed with me, and it was like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders.

I spent the weekend getting on top of the pain, and coming to the decision of perhaps moving to the hospice for pain control. On that Tuesday that move happened, and off I went, my syringe driver in hand and my bags with a friend from the past escorting me to the Patient First transport. All the staff who had looked after me had been amazing, going beyond their roles and duties to make sure I was safe, understood, and being cared for.

This move to the hospice was like being told again I had Cuntcer!!

I also want to mention a very strange and unexpected happening before I went into  hospital. In the early hours, I awoke to what I can only explain as ‘a voice’, telling me that my death was more imminent than I believed it to be, and that I therefore need to spend more quality time with my friends.’ So that is exactly what I plan to do.

I am slightly behind on my blog and  today is my Birthday.I have set up a Just Giving page to raise funds for the Severn Hospice and would appreciate if you can help me raise money for this wonderful cause.

https://www.facebook.com/donate/2446612162294739/?fundraiser_source=external_url

I have recently been through a bit of a dark time to say the least, mainly at night in the small hours. I lie there, overthinking, my mind full of various deep (and sometimes dark) thoughts – on life in general…our paths…our destinations…and the things that make people kind, happy, manipulative, or generous.

But I can’t figure these things out. I’m shattered but I can’t sleep. Wes is on ‘nights’. I find myself reading through my CT results again, and thinking of death; what makes it easier, or is death really ever any easier?  You have a diagnosis that is going to shorten your life and it affects you, your family and your friends – and the person with the diagnosis is like a ticking time bomb… But loved ones do have the chance to say the things they want to say and vice versa. ‘Instant death’ people don’t get that chance.

I did finally manage to switch off and get some sleep. (Don’t worry I have had my anti-depressants increased). I slept at Alina’s the next night, as I knew her non-stop talking would make me unable to think..

I returned to work once I felt the rash on my face had calmed a bit, and I felt better for having gone back. I met some new people and we had a giggle – we had a ‘Bake Off’, and I made some bread with the help of Morrisons. One of my clients asked me to ‘read his palm’, so I made up some bullshit, and he was laughing, and then he said, “Can you really read palms?” I replied, “No, why?” He said, “Because you wear a fortune teller’s hat.” I cried, laughing, and said, “No, you dick, I have cancer!“

I also went to a not-so-exciting but ‘essential’ meeting – and I asked the Chair would it take long, as I did not have long to live and did not want to spend too much time wasting it in meetings. He laughed, and said he was stuck for words.

We had a fabulous trip to the seaside with little one, and stayed over in a caravan. It was a lot of fun, and we were so lucky with the weather – beautiful sunshine. We even managed a dip in the sea. 

We also had baby Oscar’s Christening, with Wes as a Godfather. This was a day full of laughter, as it always is with the Guthries and the exchanges of inappropriate jokes (that others are not sure how to take). There was a beautiful ‘spread’; unfortunately, I stand out in a crowd, and I thought maybe people would be saying, ‘Look at her, four times she has been up!!’ I felt my lipstick clashed with my spots, and Amy asked if I had a ‘’hair bubble’. I obviously just called her an extremely polite name.

I’ve felt so rough in the week leading up to the CT scan. I have been sick, still suffering with ‘code browns’, have pain on the left rib cage, the rash, and open sores to my bottom (not helped by the ‘code browns’). I had to call in sick to work for the Tuesday and Wednesday. Wes went for a play date with little man on Wednesday, and then after he had gone back to Mummy’s house we headed to London. We had a good run down. We laughed as this time they had put us in a ‘Less Abled’ room. Wes found this amusing. We were unable to have an evening out as I still felt so rough.

We went for the CT scan, bloods and an echocardiogram. I had a small amount of food, and took antiemetics and Loperamide. We later watched ‘Mamma Mia’ at the theatre. It made me laugh and cry, and Wes admitted at the end of the show that he had enjoyed it too.

Friday. Results day.

So;

Cancer in anterior abdo wall; 2.9cm. Unchanged

Right hemi abdo; 1.8cm. Unchanged 

Pericapsular hepatic deposit anterior; 3.5 cm. Unchanged 

Pericapsular hepatic deposit posterior; 2.6cm. Unchanged 

Deposits on the spleen; unchanged

Peritoneal deposit anterior abdo; was 1.3 cm, now 1.2 cm.

Lung nodules; no change in small ones, and the larger one has grown slightly.

Serosal disease on the sigmoid colon; no change.

All this is known as ‘Cancer Stable.’ But known to me as ‘Cuntcer 0, Carla 1’.

So, even though I continue to vomit, no-one is removing the smiles from the faces of me and Wes tonight. My Chazza is also happy with the results, as are my family and friends.

I am now having a break from the tablets to allow my body to get over the side effects, and I will return to London soon.

I managed to get some medicine called co-danthramer as suggested by my GP friend. It’s totally wonderful stuff, but probably not if you need to use the bathroom after me… We had little man with us for Father’s Day; he gave his Daddy a picture and bookmark he had made at nursery, and a card and frame he had chosen with his Mummy. Nan came for tea, and we had such a laugh; little man was helping Wes wash his car, and there was a kink in the hosepipe. Wes fixed it, which meant little one absolutely drenched me and Nan. We had a fun day full of laughter, and then the following day we had a play date with George and Stace. The boys played well together.

The tablets have taken over the last week, causing me to vomit several times and run to the toilet at work, with me hoping that no-one was in there otherwise there would be trouble ahead! They have caused massive fatigue, too. Work has been tough of late, but I continue to turn up each day with a smile and be as cheerful as I can.

On the Thursday I came home from work and Wes had booked our honeymoon (Wedding holiday). Friends had been so generous that we had a nice amount of money, so we decided to treat ourselves. We were weighing up whether to have a holiday with little man or a pure relaxation week; we ended up with the latter, as little man was going away with his Mum. Wes booked for us to go to Cape Verde, 5-star luxury on the Dreamliner (with the help of our friend Hannah). We are both so excited and can’t wait; one whole week together of pure relaxation (we’ve never had a whole week away for just the two of us). I managed to get insurance that was not extortionate (highly recommend ‘Covered2go’).

Before the holiday, we had our next trip to London – another ten-hour day at Harley Street. They collected bloods throughout the day, and we were then back on Friday morning for more bloods. I had a chat with the medical director, who approved for me to remain on the tablets for another four weeks, then I’ll have an echo cardiogram and a CT to see if the tablets are working. We had a lovely meal on the Thursday evening at a Japanese restaurant, and manged to have a laugh even though we were both shattered. 

By Friday evening I had developed a sore throat and a mouth full of ulcers, and found it difficult to eat – so it was an early night, analgesia, and a hope that I felt better in the morning, a new day.

A good night’s sleep and feeling slightly better. My mouth is so sore, but thanks to my kind friend, Janine, I have a soothing spray. Little man came this morning and his huge morning hug is enough to give you multiple powers of energy, even if I did hide down the side of the bed and make him jump high! The laughter at me making him jump is totally contagious. We spent the afternoon with the Guthries. Wes, Russ and Amy were moaning about their colds; I told them to ‘man up.’ Russ said it was better they moaned so it took the emphasis away from me, the nobber! We went to a Funday in the park and rolled down hills, and then followed with pizza.

On Sunday we dropped little man off for his holiday with his Mummy and gave him some Euros to spend. We arrived at the airport without any hassles and had our “hereditary” pint! The Dreamliner was lovely, with extra space, a meal, and TV screen – we were so excited.

When we arrived at Cape Verde, you could feel that instant heat as we walked down the steps of the plane. On arrival at the hotel, a Bellboy took us on a golf buggy with our cases to our amazing room, where we arrived to a message, champagne and chocolates, all thanks to Hannah. The bed was huge; when we showed Chaz, he said to Wes, ‘Bet she still ends up on your side!’ My friend Sharon would have loved it, because although we were ‘All Inclusive’, we did not have to wear wrist bands. The staff were all so happy and all spoke several languages, and the hotel had a dedicated evening where they thanked all the staff and showed their appreciation for the hard work they did (okay, cheesy, but nice).

The beach was just so beautiful, and the sea was a fantastic turquoise colour. I went for an Anti-cellulite Massage; I told Wes to make sure he knew what I was wearing when I went, as once all the cellulite had gone, he might not recognise me… He asked, why, are they giving you hair too?! On a serious note, it is hard after the surgical menopause – the hot sweats etc… I highly recommend the ‘LadyCare Magnet’ (but stay away from big metal objects). ‘Weight’ becomes an issue if you allow it; I am lucky as Wes still fancies me, and still wants to make love to me. If you have a partner, male or female, who does not support you or make you feel good, ask yourself ‘why?’, as we all deserve to be treated with kindness and made to feel special. Back to the massage; it was wonderful, even if I did struggle to get the pants on (wrong holes) and the lady had to help me shower (sometimes I am such a spud). 

Wes ‘video-called’ little man, and that was lovely, and we waited for some pictures of little one on his holiday. We had a trip on a catamaran; it was totally exhilarating, sitting at the back, the sun beating down, the warm breeze and the water splashing us causing so many giggles. Jumping into the clear waters was just beautiful. There was a little boy, aged about 8, who helped take us out on the dingy to the catamaran. I gave him 5 euros – his little face was a picture, and he was so grateful.

We had a section of the beach that was for the hotel guests only, and we spent days dipping in and out of the sea. It was an amazing week of pure fun and relaxation, although it did not go totally cancer free… Unfortunately, I vomited several times (once hanging over the sunbed like a young adult on an 18-30 holiday), and a mouth full of ulcers just to remind me about the cancer whilst I was on holiday… Thankfully I was able to vomit and carry on.

I felt so sad leaving the island. As we left on the coach, about seven staff stood in a row and waved us off. I could feel the emotion building, as I knew it was time to leave and to face the next part of the Cuntcer journey. 

The lovely part of being home was seeing Chaz and little man, who were both really pleased to see us. Wes did some baking with little man and cut his hair. ‘Wes the barber’ – hilarious, but to be fair he did a reasonable job and joked with little man’s Mummy, and told her not to look too closely, and sent her some cakes to take her mind off his haircut (I do hope he grows out of his fear, or Wes needs to go to college).

I was so low this week returning from holiday; my face had broken out in a terrible rash (another side effect of the tablets), 

and I also had a couple of ‘code browns’ (if you are unsure, ask your nursing friends). I totally broke down, and said to Wes, I am not sure if I can cope anymore – no hair, no eyelashes, no eyebrows, and this rash, and not even knowing if the tablets are doing any good… Wes reassured me that I was still the same person and I would get my confidence back, it was just taking time. I had a really good cry, and it took me a few days to feel ready to face the world again. I have creams and gels for my face that are soothing, and it’s not too long to wait for the CT scan to see if it’s working.

On a positive note, I had a relaxed weekend, a meal and catch up with Alina on Friday, a chilled day on Saturday with visits from Mum and Kerry.  And a BBQ on Sunday with the Mansells and little man.

I put the last chapter online after I finished work. I was exhausted when I got in, and so I’d had a twenty-minute nap, then we had a lovely evening; nice food, wine and snuggles (wink).  Out of nowhere came the tears. I said to Wes that I was so exhausted, I can’t keep doing this, and I asked him if he thought that ‘this was it’ and was I ever going to have or feel energised again?  I told him about how difficult I was finding it to ignore certain behaviours of people I was surrounded by, the unkindness I was witnessing that needed stopping… And I said to Wes that I knew they weren’t my issues, but I couldn’t help the person I was. Wes held me whilst I sobbed. Eventually Wes said, ‘Don’t go changing who you are.’ We laughed as I said I haven’t got time to change. I then said to Wes that I couldn’t go to work tomorrow, but I was worried about letting people down. He soon put me straight on this, and he rang work to say I would not be in. I turned my phone off as I did not want to talk to anyone, and thanked Wes. He said, “Thank me for what?”  I said, “For being you, and your kind and loving ways.” He may take ages to do jobs and be totally shit at washing up (ha) but I would not change Wes for the world. I feel so lucky.

I had a couple of days rest. The next time I went out was for my annual mammogram, then for my nails with Claire, and popped out to see Alina. Then I met Wes at the Guthrie’s for a BBQ, where he’d taken little man for a playdate. I had a call from the CNS the next day. She was as lovely as always, asking about the wedding and listening about the trial. I cancelled my chemo, and we arranged a phone call consultation for after my next CT, which would be sometime in July.

We had our next trip to London, and we travelled there after dropping little man home. They had put us up in a hotel and paid for breakfast, which was all very enjoyable, and we made the most of the evening. The following morning we arrived at Harley Street, where we were greeted by lovely staff and I signed the consent form with a lady doctor whom I can only describe as beautiful (I do not even want to think about what was going through Wes’ head..). Then it was off for a series of tests; eye tests, CT scan, blood tests and Nursing and Holistic care. All appointments ran smoothly, with coffee and biscuits on offer at every appointment. We finished the day with a Brazilian meal and a glass of vino in the sunshine.

Next day was back to work for what the staff like to call a ‘treat day’ (rather, a ‘fat day’) with loads of naughty food… The day passed quickly. I was supposed to have an appointment at the hospital, but this was cancelled, which I was grateful for, so I went for a takeaway with Alina and Heidi to continue the ‘treat day’…

On the Saturday morning we travelled to Southport Pontins for a cheesy weekend of fun with the Guthrie’s. We went to the club, and the children enjoyed running around, dancing and burning off energy. They were so excited staying up late, sharing a bedroom, swimming, visiting the arcades, and going for a stroll on the beach enjoying an ice-cream (courtesy of little Yvonne). We had a couple of beers and enjoyed each other’s company, sharing so much laughter. Though I did have the worse farts in a long time… We laughed at each one’s eyes stinging with water from laughter (or maybe it was the toxic smell), but thankfully it was all taken in good humour, with Wes describing some of them as ‘aggressive sounding’…. It was a fab couple of nights away; the children were amazingly well behaved, including baby Oscar.

We got back home on the Monday and went for lunch with Nan, then dropped little man at home and had an afternoon of relaxation at our home.

On the Tuesday I had my CT results. They did not make for the best reading, but the research people were happy for me to begin the trial.

The following day we headed off to collect our wedding album from the lovely Karen. It was amazing, and we were so pleased with it, Then we headed to Kent for a few days away. We chose this area as it was nearer to where we needed to be on Friday to start the trial. We had to cancel going to Cornwall though, which was so disappointing as we love spending time with Jeanette and Keith. But logistically and with the exhaustion, I felt it wouldn’t work, so unfortunately this time cancer ‘won’ hands down.

We stayed in a lovely place called ‘Charming Garden Cabin’, hosted by Rita and Charles; we would definitely recommend this super cabin in Whitstable. We spent evenings on the beach drinking prosecco out of plastic cups and listening to the sound of the sea. Perfect.

We then called to see my cousin, Krister, and his children on the way to London for our appointment. They had put on a lovely spread, and we spent some time chilling in the garden at the home-made outside bar. We then headed off to London, ready for our appointment in Harley Street. We spent Friday at the centre, and then in the evening drove off to stay with our friends Amanda and Paul for a fab BBQ, drinks, Jacuzzi and swim. We came back on Saturday, and later on met friends for drinks and the all-important Champions League final… Thankfully the result equalled two happy boys in this house.

On Sunday we spent the afternoon with little man, and then had a playdate with Amy on the Monday, before returning to London for our next appointments. I spent the day on a hospital bed being served a lovely breakfast and lunch, whilst having regular bloods taken throughout the eleven hours. I insisted that Wes had some time out, so he went and met Shmell, a friend he’d originally met in Greece. It obviously did him good, as he came back and slept at my bedside (she does talk more than me).

We both went to work the rest of the week. On Saturday we went to support our friend at a local food show, and had some of her fantastic cakes. They are ‘to die for’ – try them out if you get the chance (‘Flamingo Bakes’). Then on Sunday it was Wes’ little man’s Third Birthday. We had a fantastic time. Wes threw a party, and we had invited ten children. They were all so well behaved, and we had so much fun, and it was really lovely to see everyone enjoying themselves and how happy the day made Wes.

After Wes took little man back to his Mum, we headed off to Rhyl so we could be by the coast. On the Monday we sat by the sea and just read; it was so peaceful, and we were both so relaxed. By 18,30 I couldn’t keep my eyes open in the pub, and we headed back. I had ‘hit a brick wall’ and slept for sixteen hours.

I find myself thinking a lot more of late worrying about the future or rather the lack of it. I want to be here when Chaz has children. I want to see him qualify as a paramedic, and to support him through the course so he can achieve his dreams. I write cards for birthdays and special occasion, hoping that they are not the last time I write them. I want to see and feel mine and Wes’ relationship get stronger and stronger. I want to watch little man develop from a toddler to a little boy. To watch my friends’ children grow, to see what they become.

Today I feel angry with many things. Maybe it’s the pain I am in, but things are frustrating me more than they normally would do. I do still work hard because I choose to; the other option would be to sit at home and feel sorry for myself, and allow cancer to win, but I do also get tired. People at work have been supportive, but I feel I’m a huge ‘team player’ and do get frustrated when not everybody is willing to share the same work ethic – and I find it difficult to stay quiet (shock). I also was/am so constipated. I rang the hospice for help to try to get a medication that had been suggested to me by a GP friend. The hospice told me that they could not help, and I needed to go through my GP, and then they went on to tell me they were closed this afternoon for staff training, and it was probably best to ‘up’ my Movicol for tonight… I still find it surprising that some people will not go that extra mile to help. So I will lie in agony tonight, because it was too much to go that extra mile; I’m so glad that is not the person I am.

I felt so much better when I arrived home to be greeted by a happy little, middle and big man, and also a wonderful gift from Sharon and Gordon containing our evening wedding photos.

I couldn’t sleep well the night before, which may have been due to the champagne. I felt quite low; Wes and I had had the most perfect time off from work and cancer, and now reality was about to hit again like a thunderbolt! I cried that night and my husband held me tight.

In the morning, we went to the chemo day centre. It was a busy day because it followed the Bank Holiday. The nurses were cheerful. It always was a long day at the centre, and we did the usual – played chess, slept in our chairs and chatted loads. My consultant’s secretary came to chat to us and congratulated us. We spoke about the trial, and how I had been invited to London for an assessment in order to be considered. This day ended well with much excitement in the house as Liverpool thrashed Barcelona. One very happy husband!

The following day, we had an appointment at the hospice with a psychologist. This proved to be really helpful for us both. We chatted about everything; life and death, family, friends, others, and pain control. We will see the psychologist again, and she will arrange for us to see the hospice’s consultant. We also managed to see Linda, who is part of the team that make those delightful cakes at the coffee mornings.

That evening after we dropped little man off, we travelled down to Ilford where we stayed the night ready for our appointment on Thursday morning. We had a meal locally and that was me done – totally exhausted! I slept really well.

Next morning, we headed into the centre of London. I personally would never have driven, but it did not seem to faze Wes, though I guess for most of the time we didn’t get above ten miles per hour… People were ‘toot-tooting’ their horns continuously. Once we had parked, we met Shmell for a quick catch-up and a telling off for not staying at their place…

We made our way to Harley Street for our appointment; it was a beautiful and welcoming place. Everyone was extremely professional, and they just seemed happy to be there.  We eventually spoke with the doctor, who told us about her background, and we shared ours. This particular trial involved a medication that had not yet been tried on humans. It was all very exciting, but there were two possible cohorts that I could possibly fit into, as my pathology is quite unique. Further enquiries had to be made first. We left feeling really unsure now, as a little bit of our excitement had gone. On the way home, we called in at Amanda and Paul’s, friends of ours in Bedfordshire. We were made very welcome, and had a lovely meal and a catch-up at their stunning home.

Wes went back to work on the Friday. I was tearful when he left, as we had spent some amazing times together whilst we had been off. I seemed to sleep away the Friday and Saturday, between vomiting, suffering with joint pain and stomach pain.

On the Sunday, I felt loads better, and we had friends over for a BBQ – half and half the Mansells and Guthries. Little man had so much fun. On the Monday we met Harry and George for another playdate. It was loads of fun, but by early evening I was in bed with a cold and a sore throat, but thankfully no temperature. I was unable to go to work for a few days, as I felt shit and really low, with the waiting still to hear from London. I was beginning to feel nervous that they were not going to be able to accept me… Had I put too much hope into this trial?

Then came the call on Thursday, late morning. I was told that they were unable to accept me  on the trial, as my pathology was too unique! I felt my heart sink heavily and the tears sting my eyes, and I then heard her say, “But we would like to try you on another trial.” I went in seconds from feeling like I had hit rock bottom to being elated. This was so exciting! Alina was with me and gave me a huge hug.

When Wes returned, he was as excited as me. We had been invited to Eirian’s, and I had been unsure about going because I felt so low – but this was so worth celebrating, and I felt like a weight had been lifted off me. Both our families were so excited, and again there were tears of happiness. There will be another series of test in London for the initial part, to make sure I am strong enough to begin the trial. I just so hope that I am, I need to see my boy keep growing.

There are many things that cancer has taught me, and I would like to share a few of them with you all. Those times I looked in the mirror and thought I was unattractive, or too fat, or this part of my body wasn’t right, and those bits that I don’t think are tight…. All this makes me, and the person that is me, and as this person I have an impact on many people’s lives just because I am me. So no matter what is going on your life, always believe in yourself, but also remember that not all people are kind and there will be those people who flick two fingers down the phone whilst being nice to you, but that is a reflection on them not on you!! Always try to smile and be kind to others, but more importantly be kind to yourself because, as L’Oreal would say, you’re worth it!!

The first from Mrs Lea!

It was the night before I was going to become ‘Mrs Lea’ – a new name, a name that meant I had met my soul mate, the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with… ‘My life’ – a strange phrase, as we both knew my life had a high potential of being cut short. It was something we both often joked about, and I would say to Wes things like, ‘At least when you say “I do,” you know you haven’t got to put up with me for long, so don’t be paying my Dad too much to give me away!’ We laughed, but with a distinct sadness in our eyes. (We have to do 4.5 years together, hey, Wes).

My Mum and Steve put on a buffet and glasses of wine for some of my girlfriends – Sharon, Stace, Alina, Amy, Emily and Claire. We had a fun evening with many a laughter shared, but wow, I was shattered, excited, nervous and with so many emotions. And I missed Wes so much.

Alina stayed overnight with me, and those of you that know her, do know she can talk for England, plus we never run out of things to chat about… So obviously we chatted until the early hours. Before we went to sleep, I had given Mum a ‘forever gift’, and she had given me a parcel from Jeanette – a beautiful glass with a stained-glass blue heart and a personal message. Alina also gave me a beautiful bracelet with a personal message.

The morning arrived. Mum and Steve went to decorate the room for the party with assistance of a choice of helpers. Before she left, Mum gave me a bag, with a tag with the words, ‘To my beautiful bride to be.’ Inside was a necklace, a note and a handmade plaque from my ‘husband to be.’ It was just, Simply the Best.

I made Alina get up and make more brews – after all, I was the bride. When I got up, I wore my new dressing gown from Stacey, with ‘Bride to Be’ on the back. I had a lovely text message from the ‘in-laws to be’, some WhatsApp banter with my Dad, and Facetime with Wes and little man.

Then the chaos began… Sarah and Will with the flowers, Karen with the camera, Kim with the hairdressing skills, Emily the bridesmaid, Shannon the makeup artist, Jeanette and Andrew (Jeanette to help with the dress) and then – last but not least – Chazza, We had breakfast and champagne; Shannon did my makeup, Kim my wig, then it was time to get dressed. What a struggle that proved to be; the girls could not get the back of my dress sorted… Thankfully Jodie and Emily managed to do it up correctly in the end.

I came out of the bedroom; Alina was tearful and told me I looked amazing, followed by all the others at the house. Chaz took me and Emily to the Registry Office. We were only ten minutes late, which was good, given my track record of time keeping… We were greeted by the lovely lady Kerry, who conducted the ceremony and after some official questions, I was greeted by my Dad, Mems (Wes’ sister), and her children. Her little boy did not recognise at me at first, which was funny, as he does not usually see me dressed up, especially with makeup on. Between Dad and Chaz I had many a compliment.

I then heard our song start to play, ‘Ugga Chugga’, and knew it was time to walk to meet Wes… I was shaking inside. I walked in with the biggest smile ever as I approached Wes. He told me I looked beautiful.

The service was amazing. During the service, little one said, ‘Carla, I love you,’ as well as shouting ‘No!’ to Will at some inappropriate times. He was hilarious. Two friends also did readings for us. It was magical, like a fairy tale.

After the service, because it was so bitterly cold, we went straight to the venue. It was so perfectly decorated, and full of happy faces and the sound of laughter. The speeches were emotional and so beautifully written, and I think it is only fair to share Seb’s joke with you all. ‘What do you get if you cross an Elephant with potato? Mashed potato!’ It was complete with actions, the best 3-year old’s joke I have heard (maybe you did have to be there…).

The day rolled into night and it was just perfect. We took little man home to bed, and read him a story each, and then we returned to party the night away and that we certainly all did. So much fun was also had with the surprise Photo Booth that our friends had hired for us as a gift. We were just both totally overwhelmed by everything; we had the perfect day. On our return home, Wes could not undo my dress, so it was a bit like ‘Pull it down when you have finished!’ (ha-ha).

The next day we had the bright idea of a BBQ. ‘Rough’ did not begin to explain how I felt, but it was lovely to have a houseful of people. We opened more than 100 wedding cards, and so many gifts. Such generosity; it was unbelievable. There was a lot of food left over from the previous night’s ‘do.’ We tried to take it to a charity, but they could not accept it; some strange policy. Wes and I had a drive round, and in the end, Ange put it in a big box and put it by a homeless guy whilst he slept.

On Monday, we headed to Barcelona for our honeymoon. I will keep most of that censored! We did some sightseeing, such as the Sagrada Familia, and also the Camp Nou, but we were unable to go in there due to the Barcelona vs Liverpool game the next day. We spent some time at the harbour and the beach. We had some problems with our room, which were sorted by the lovely Anna, and we ended up with the most magnificent view and beautiful apartment. We also joined the many Liverpool fans who were celebrating in the square. There was an extremely scary moment when the riot police stormed the square, hitting, pushing and shouting at people. One of them tried to push our group down the street; it was petrifying. Wes asked them to take their hands off me; I was crying, and a bar man took us both in.

Whilst we were in Barcelona, I took a call from a research centre in Harley Street. They wanted me to take part in a clinical trial. This was so exciting, and it needed us to go down to London on our return.

On the Thursday, we caught the train to Wes’ parents (the in-laws) for some more ‘chillout time,’ and a trip for a cortado with Linda, and a meal with Carol and Al. These were all beautiful memories. Then it was time to return home as ‘Mr and Mrs Lea.’ People asked us how it felt to be married, and I think the best way to describe it was like ‘a completeness.’

On the Monday, we arranged a surprise visit to ‘Thomas Land’ for Cal with the Guthries; a final day of fun before facing that cloud of darkness again!

I stayed off work for a few days; I wasn’t ready to face it all without my hair. But once I’d got my mind around it, we went to Birmingham. We bought our wedding rings, and had some lunch and a few sherbets. In the evening we went to the theatre to watch ‘Les Misérables’ (an absolutely amazing show), followed by a Greek meal and an overnight stay. We had fun, as always.

My CNS called me to see how I was feeling. She is so lovely, and she makes you feel like an individual. We had a chat about how I dealt with this round of Chemo. I recommended ‘Salon 10’ for wig fitting. She kind of told me off for being ‘the naughty patient’ (for not taking my temperature every day), and she asked about my wedding plans. The following day she sent a blood form through the post, with a ‘Post-It’ note saying, ‘Have a lovely wedding.’ There was a Smiley face on it – small gestures like that really count.

The next day I had a fitting for the wedding outfit. I had to delay it for an hour; my confidence had slipped away – no hair, and I felt so unattractive. I had to have some reflection time, and eventually I got a grip and went to the fitting. Fortunately, I still loved my outfit and felt special. We then went to see the Guthries. The children played and we discussed cakes; Amy is making our wedding cake (with help from Karyn).

I was nervous about going back to work in my hat – which seems ridiculous, as I have done it all before. I got one of the girls to meet me so that I wasn’t alone. Once in work, all was okay; the clients were polite, and some asked questions and were extremely sensitive.

I had a really busy weekend, working and seeing friends; coffee with Lynn, and Sara came across to bring me a bag she had made herself for our wedding day. It w

beautiful, made with love (picture after the big day) and Sarah called with Theo. He made us cups of tea whilst we put the world to rights and chatted about flowers (Sarah is kindly making my bouquets – eek!)

I went to my Aunty Ria’s for tea. We had  a lovely time catching up and sharing stories.

I had an amusing phone call at work from Chaz, who chatted for about two minutes and then asked who he was talking to…. He was drunk. They had gone straight out from the night shift. I knew it was going to be messy when he told me he was out with Lisa Matthews.

We had Nan over for lunch, and little one was here too, helping his Daddy build in the garden; he is so comical. We went out for lunch with friends, and had a lovely afternoon.

I’ve enjoyed being back at work; being busy, solving problems, and helping colleagues. The support I’ve received from people has been great, but, wow, am I glad to finish for holidays! ‘Exhausted’ does not cover it. We went straight after work to see Cheryl and Nige, who had made us a lovely tea. Cheryl gave me a beautiful present. She was nervous giving it to me in case I took offence, but I certainly didn’t, and I was choked with emotion. I just loved it – so thoughtful of her

Chaz chooses not to read the blog, so I would appreciate it if nobody told him about this gift.

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So, now is the weekend of the wedding! I am excited and nervous all at the same time. ‘Nervous’ at the thought of the attention being on me, and then maybe my wig blowing off, with visions of me chasing it down the street….and because I run like a chicken this would be hilarious, I suppose. I’ve never thought I would get married; it’s ‘just a piece a paper’ I would have said, but I can’t wait to be ‘Mrs Lea.’ Wes means so much to me; I just love being with him. We make each other laugh and we share a love that’s special. There have been so many happy times, tainted with sadness of course, but we get through them together, and for the next eleven days ‘Cuntcer’ can leave us alone. ‘See you at the altar, Mr Lea!’

My next chapter will be written by ‘Mrs Lea.’