Monday 28 May 2018

An attitude of gratitude

Sometimes, I don't take enough time to express my gratitude. It's all too easy to forget that in October 2015, I was diagnosed with "months not years" to live and that despite this, I am still here. So as I walked this morning with a lovely friend (who has an unusual form of cancer), I felt extremely thankful. So, I thought it might be a good idea to share a few things that I am grateful for (from the mundane to the mind-blowingly amazing) that this incredible world has to offer...

1. A walk in the warm sunshine with a friend
2. A smile from a passer-by
3. The beauty of nature
4. The sounds of the birds
5. Enjoying another birthday
6. Being comfortable and safe
7. Laughing with my husband
8. Enjoying my God-daughter's 'knock knock' jokes
9. Waking up to sun-light seeping through the curtains
10. Being peaceful
11. Knowing that at this moment, everything is OK
12. Cherishing time with my Dad
13. Having the freedom to make my own choices
14. Being loved
15. Spending time with loved ones
16. Reading a book from cover to cover
17. Seeing the cherry blossom on the trees
18. Hearing from an old friend
19. Putting dates into my diary
20. Overcoming physical challenges
21. Being uplifted by my Church community
22. Feeling inspired by the resilience of others
23. Being able to travel
24. Celebrating the good news of friends
25. Remembering the people I've lost with fondness
26. Witnessing an answer to prayer
27. Enjoying a trip to the theatre
28. Blasting out music in the car
29. Enjoying a meal that someone else has cooked
30. Oh, and being saved from imminent death is quite an important one

I didn't have a bucket list. I don't even have a bucket. But God's Grace and miraculous healing have given me a myriad of blessings, some huge, some tiny. But I am wildly grateful for them all.

Amanda




Thursday 10 May 2018

A (different) life begins at 40

Ever since I was very young, birthdays have been a big cause for celebration for our family. Largely driven by my Mum, both my sister, Steph and I would receive a mountain of amazing presents (although she was more than slightly disadvantaged by her birthday being two days after Christmas). Even as an adult, the volume of presents did not reduce, and I will never forget my Mum's thoughtful present giving.

But without (the lovelier) half of my family, and with the unwelcome arrival of cancer only months after my 40th birthday, birthdays were never to be the same again. OK, well that's a bit melodramatic, but also, unfortunately, true (so far).

Just after my celebration of the 'big 4-0' I had a letter to invite me to a check-up with the GP (I never knew about these beforehand) but they're to ascertain your health against a number of criteria: weight, lifestyle, bloods, cholesterol etc. All my results were positive.

Then, ironically, after finding a gob-stopper sized lump in my breast and seeing a variety of specialists, I was diagnosed with an aggressive kind of breast cancer, Triple Negative. 'Positive' to 'Triple Negative' was a startling transition to say the least. This was an unwelcome twist on the old adage, 'life begins at 40'.

On my 41st birthday I felt like I had been hit by a sledgehammer, having just finished my sixth session of chemo the day before. I had a few weeks to recover before the radiotherapy that started in June. But, I was alive, albeit bald, exhausted and sickly, and I was extremely grateful to God for that (the 'alive' bit not the 'bald, exhausted and sickly' bit).

On my 42nd birthday, I went to the dogs (literally and metaphorically) and we celebrated my 'victory over cancer' (prematurely as it turned out) and my lovely friend sponsored the last race and we all piled onto the winner's podium.

One day later I was in hospital, before I'd even packed away my birthday presents (it is obligatory to display them for at least two days afterwards). I was admitted with a suspected stroke which was later revealed to be a cancerous brain tumour (a metastasis from the original breast cancer, so, a breast cancer on the brain).

On my 43rd birthday, I was more than a little nervous. I fled the country to Spain (with travel insurance the size of the National Debt) and lounged around in the sun (sun-block factor 900+) and enjoyed it immensely.

My 44th birthday was a transition from cancer grimness to a new era of tentative hope and a slow rebuilding process. NOTE for language enthusiasts (you know who you are): I looked on the online thesaurus for an alternative word to 'transition' and was horrified to see the word 'metastasis'. I am sticking with 'transition' for now.

So, later tonight I will be celebrating my 45th birthday. It is with joy in my heart that I am still here, with sadness in the pit of my stomach (no, I don't know why I feel it there) for those who are not here with me, and for those who mourn their loved ones who will not see another birthday, and with boundless thanks to God for giving me another year in this beautiful world.

Amanda

And for healing, love, friendship and joy