I shall be brief, partly because I have a gammon joint in the oven that needs attending to, partly because I don’t want to end up a blubbering mess but mostly because – who wants to read long ramblings on Christmas eve.
For those who have been reading my blogs over the last twelve months, you will know it has been a, let’s say, interesting (heavily on the italics) year. Without going all melodramatic on you, after being diagnosed with cancer there were a few (not many) but a couple of moments I wondered whether I would even make it to Christmas.
I certainly never envisioned that just getting to the age of 36 would seem like a triumphant win but on my birthday in November, I suddenly felt overwhelmed with a strange relief that I had done so.
Christmas for me this year is perhaps the most poignant yet. MOTH and I always used it as a kind of target, a pinpoint time where the worst would be over and I would even have some hair again. I mentioned in a previous blog that I could perhaps adorn myself with Christmas themed Fuzzy Felt, but I am happy to report things have gone beyond the Velcro fuzz. Instead I have a strange mop of unruly curls; long enough to curl up, but not yet long enough to curl back down. One of my sisters suggested placing one of the Christmas robins in it that normally sits on the tree; who knows, if enough gin flows…
But this blog wasn’t really meant to be about me. Instead, I wanted to say, what feels like a hugely inadequate thank you.
I want to thank the amazing doctors, nurses, surgeons and physios at Ipswich Hospital who were all wonderful without exception throughout my treatment. I want to thank my herbalist who makes me feel that everything and anything is possible. I would like to thank all of you who have contacted me with good wishes from far and wide.
But mostly, I want to thank my band of angels here on earth. Despite it being the most horrendous year, I somehow feel more blessed than I ever have before and it is because of the amazing people who have supported me.
I won’t name them individually, I hope you know who you are. You are my life savers, my laughter makers, my hugs and my cuddles, my listening ears and shoulders to cry on and my drill sergeants to buck me up when I needed it.
My darling family, I feel closer to you than ever and I cherish you all. My amazing friends, you have kept me feeling normal by talking to me about all life, not just cancer. My archangel MOTH, who has been with me for every appointment, treatment, side effect and beyond, with patience and love – you are awesome!
Despite all that has happened this year, I have laughed and loved so much because of you all and thank you will never be enough, even if I said it to the stars and back. I wish you all the happiest Christmas and an amazing year ahead.