thank you, thank you, thank you

Well well well! This is my one-year anniversary of being diagnosed with the Hodge - and while I'm not exactly celebrating that momentous event in my life by breaking out the Moët & Chandon (no, rice pudding instead), I felt a final blog post would be appropriate.

Exactly one year ago - give or take 9 hours - I was sitting on a bench outside Freeman Hospital with rather smudged eye make-up, talking away a little too fast to my mother whilst texting a lot of people (which turned out to be a mistake because my phone didn't shut up for the next 4 hours, but I appreciated each and every one of your texts). I've never really written much about how I felt at diagnosis but the oddest thing was the way I started bouncing off the walls and being VERY bright and chirpy, with flashes of dark, dark humour. Extremely weird. I suppose the alternative would have been to sink into an maelstrom of terror and take to my bed with a bottle of gin; the babbling kept me circling the edge of the whirlpool instead.

I have to thank everyone who put up with said wall-bouncing and taking-to-my-bed days (these were fortunately rare but not fun - mostly triggered by the loss of yet another handful of hair). Now there is no way I can thank everyone - it would take all night, I would forget people, and I have Outnumbered to watch - but there are a few key players. I've already touched on this in the Courier article but I feel the blog needs a good finale, and this is it.

In the spirit of Mother's Day tomorrow:

This woman is, in my humble opinion, one of the best mothers anybody could wish for. She definitely goes above and beyond the call of duty, and makes the best rice pudding ever. Happy Mother's Day Mummy!!! I love you. (Don't cry woman, you are ridiculous. xxxxx)

However, this man is also one of the best fathers a girl could wish for. I really really don't like being soppy (it makes him too big-headed) but my dad is amazing. He can take a 600 mile round chemo trip in his stride and do lots of other useful things like bring me Twilight books and coffee in chemo. He's quite good at giving cuddles too.

One of my friends told me about her cousin who was diagnosed with some kind of lymphoma - I think it was Hodgkins actually - while away at university. Get this: he didn't tell his parents. He didn't want to worry them, so he didn't go home for 6 months and instead turned to his girlfriend for support all through his treatment. I asked my parents what they thought about this, and they said, "Well, we would have been a little suspicious if you hadn't wanted to see us for 6 months... and then turned up with no hair." HAHA! But I definitely could not have got through this last year if not for mother and father - so let us all be grateful that I did in fact tell them when my haematologist told me to. (Over MSN though - not exactly ideal. I am so sorry.)

My brother Tim was in Japan most of the time I was having chemo - one of the reasons I decided to keep this blog - but was still THERE in the best sense of the word. And who else would have the genius to distract me from radiotherapy stress by making sushi with me? Ahhh he's a cool boy. and he straightened my hair the first time it was long enough to do anything with - and introduced me to the world of hair wax. My brother Michael made me laugh a lot - he always makes me laugh a lot - and continually exhorted me to "exploit the deaf coeliac cancer thing more, Roz" and get myself more spoilt. Fortunately I didn't give in to this too often, tempting though it was - I feel the parents spent enough money on petrol and train tickets without buying me iPods as well ... but haha. And Isobel. Oh Isobel. So many in-jokes, too little time to explain them all... Isobel is - in the words of the Pioneer Woman - a "punk-ass little sister". I'm not even sure what that means but Izzy is punk-ass. And my little sister. She gave me some of her manic energy on post-chemo days and once even dragged me outside to do cartwheels. BIG KISSES SNOOKUMS!!!!

My maternal grandparents are also among the most dedicated and fantastic grandparents ever to walk this earth. I'm not kidding. Telling them I had cancer was the hardest thing I've ever had to do - which is why Mother had to do most of it - but they were so supportive. And fed me scones in radiotherapy (REALLY GOOD ... and gluten-free! I'm telling you, there is no end to Grandma's talents.) It turns out clotted cream is quite soothing to irradiated throats. YUM. Thank you Grandma and Grandad. Love you lots.

My paternal grandparents were also pretty lovely, though they couldn't be as involved in generally spoiling me. Grandpa did slip me quite a few £20 notes and Grandma repeatedly told me that she liked my hair - even when it was bright pink. The lady's 95 and still broad-minded!

And who can forget the fantastic box of gluten-free goodies and pampering products that arrived from my uncle David, aunt Carmel and cousin Charlie? plus the many emails they sent me. Other family members spoiled me rotten too - like Auntie Joyce did with this quilt, and her daughter Anna with many Facebook messages and comments, and Auntie Vera and Uncle Frank....the list goes on and on.

Various family friends have been wonderful too: my godparents (ok, godmother Caroline and her husband Ian - Ian is wary of any godly responsibility) have to top that particular list. Caroline was being a "lady of leisure" while I was having chemo and was very good at keeping me entertained with walkies and mango-shopping; and she and Ian took me for runs and didn't laugh when I gave up halfway round on quite a few of them! Erika lent me some cracking books and lovely cards, as did Hilary. The Knott family were lovely too - giving me knitting patterns and sending beautiful cards (the artwork on the top of this blog is from a card by Helen.) Gabby and David sent me the most gorgeous White Company dressing gown I've ever clapped eyes on (thank you!) The Hibbert family have also been fantastic, and Gilly makes the best pavlova ever.

I also appear to have been blessed with some of the best friends. (This blog post is making me realise that I'm a very lucky person in lots of ways... take that cancer sympathy elsewhere!) Again, some people will get left out if I try to mention everyone by name, but a few do stand out. Georgina was and still is - my personal chauffeur, food taster, general honorary boyfriend (and so much better than the real thing could be too!!) She's come along to a LOT of appointments with me and taken me to Belle & Herbs afterwards. And rescued me on the night of the Tupperware Incident - it must have taken nerves of steel. Sterling work, Weatherdon. xx

Gaita also deserves a mention - my favourite Italian lady who plied me with pasta and espresso and hugs and back massages and cuddles. Te amo, Sissi. MWAH. Now, who else... the flatmates of course: Jenny, Minti, Sophie, Janet-planet... all fantastic in their own ways - too fantastic to cover in enough detail here. But yes they were all rocks of support, tea and chemo-banter. (And also marvellously understanding of the Tupperware Incident.)

Other names on the Roll of Honour include:

(ah, bullet points. you make my life easier.)

• Lydia - who came along to one of the very first appointments (at ENT - she had to watch them stick a large needle into my neck) and told me not to panic. V. useful advice - sometimes the simplest is the best! Ahhh Huges le Grandbutte, I love you.
• Dave - Green and Black's chocolate. Tonka bean pots. and home-made gluten-free lasagne. general banter. er wow.
• Emily - the maddest, funniest baking queen I know.
• Leonie - also mad and funny and fellow gin enthusiast.
• Shal - provider of intelligent chemo conversation.
• Jen - ditto
• Zoe - fellow-food-obsessive and one cool cat.
• Beth and Christine - cool chemo-visiting sisters.
• Ed - rude chemo visitor but couldn't do without him.
• Mavis - sender of many fantastic and uplifting cards/e-mails, cook of many delicious dinners, and one of the most inspiring women ever.
• Caroline, Jess, Kate, Emma, Kathryn, Ruth - awesome friends from home. I'm so, SO glad I still know you guys - you sent me so many lovely presents and were there when I needed you. And thank you Caroline and Julia for taking me to France!!!
• Bethan, Phil and the Hindsons. you guys rock.
• Romeela - brought me some stunning roses. thank you sweetpea!!
  
• Kate - best roast dinner I've had at uni. Kim - just generally wonderful.
• EVERYBODY else who ever wrote me a facebook message/email/letter to let me know they were thinking of me. It brought a smile to my face every time.
• my haematologists, everybody at the NCCC, and all the nurses - especially the ones who managed to put a cannula in without me feeling it. WOW indeed.

And now - because this is the way I roll - a final RECIPE!!

Cinnamon Banana Bread with white chocolate chunks

This is the cake I have been making most often in recent weeks, because it's AMAZING. Not because it's healthy. (I don't do healthy. You may have noticed.) It's from Harry Eastwood's Red Velvet & Chocolate Heartache - my new baking bible - and "is so virtuous it’s almost geeky. Full of energy, flavour and goodness, it’s also a doddle to make." It really is delicious - moist, banana-y, with a gorgeous damp texture and chocolate chunks. (and NO flavour of courgettes. I promise.) What more could you possibly ask for from banana bread???

Ingredients:

140g banana (peeled weight)
2 medium free-range eggs
120g golden caster sugar
150g topped, tailed, peeled and finely grated courgettes
150g rice flour (or any flour - I actually used teff flour and Juvela GF bread mix...)
2tsp baking powder
1/4 tsp salt
1 tsp vanilla extract
1tsp cinnamon
1/2 tsp mixed spice
And - it's up to you, but I use 50 - 100g white chocolate, cut into chunks (instead of the BORING 25g finely chopped brazil nuts and 25g finely chopped pecans)

1.Preheat the oven to 180C/350F/gas 4. Brush the inside of a loaf tin with some vegetable oil.

2. Mash the banana thoroughly. (If really pissed off about something, use your hands! Oh, the satisfaction of squidging bananas. Once you've done it, you'll never look back.)

3. Whisk the eggs and sugar for a full 3 mins until pale and light. Whisk in the mashed-up banana until completely incorporated, then add the courgette and beat again.

4. Add the flour, baking powder, salt, vanilla extract, cinnamon and mixed spice, and whisk again until completely blended.

5. Pour the mixture into the prepared tin and scatter the choc chunks over the top and poke them them down (they sink to the bottom otherwise.)

6. Sprinkle the top with some demerara sugar if you fancy it, and bake in the middle of the oven for 45 mins.

7. Remove the cake from the oven and leave it to cool in the tin for 10 minutes, then transfer to a wire rack or the bottom gets REALLY squidgy. (If, however, you like a squidgy bottom, just leave it where it is.)

If you care about such things: this cake is only 200 kcal a slice (based on 8 servings). Rejoice! Then eat another slice!!

Now, my loves, I think I might have to wrap it up here. It's pretty late and this is a rather long post... . I've been putting it off for far too long because I really don't like being soppy - it sets my teeth on edge - and I knew this would be hard to write. I apologise if anything is overly sentimental, self-centred and Oscar-speech-like, but you're all pretty amazing and deserve this long, long thank you letter.

This will probably be my last post on here (excluding any boring details of follow-up CT scans and perhaps the odd recipe I feel compelled to share with you all). So touch wood that my lymph nodes decide to behave from now on.

Everybody, you made a crap experience much less crap and even pretty damn fun at times!Thank you thank you thank you very much for everything.

BIG LOVE xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

P.S. If I've missed anyone out PLEASE TELL ME. I almost forgot Gaita until a moment ago! good lord.

thank the little lord jesus and all his cherubim and seraphim

Gaaaaaaaaah! Sorry, I know my CT results were 3 weeks ago and that this update is long overdue. In my defence I have been attempting to write 4500 words on 3 patients for my Mental Health presentation, writing lymphoma articles for the Courier, having a wonderful birthday weekend at home, having a hilarious birthday murder mystery party...etc etc.

Now to update you guys... after quite a long and anxious wait that's been going on since December, I got my CT results back last week and they were COMPLETELY, UTTERLY, GORGEOUSLY NORMAL!!!! hallelujah!! If I was a crying sort of person, I probably would have cried for happiness but instead I just went around with a massive manic grin on my face for about 24 hours. I also wholeheartedly cursed the swine-flu jab for blighting my Christmas with so much panic ... but then went back to manic grinning. Oh and my facebook status got 93 likes! I was very flattered and grateful to all my amazing friends - you guys rock.

Now that sets my follow-up back on track; I won't have to go back to the NCCC until May! which seems a long way off right now, mainly because 8 miserable weeks of CIDR (Chronic Illness and Disability Rehabilitation, for those of you lucky enough not to know what it is) lie between now and then. CIDR was the bane of my life last year and I was overjoyed to have finished it, only to get cancer 2 weeks later. Not a high point. Fortunately this year it gets split in half by Easter so I can refuel with chocolate and Wales holiday, uninterrupted by chemo this time.

Ooh I was also in this article in the Sunday Sun to raise Lymphoma Awareness. I'm not really sure that making me laugh manically in the rain in my backyard was the best way to get a good photo, but hey, anything to raise awareness!!