18 Months Late, Completely Knackered and Apparently Curly!

Well, it's been a while, hasn't it?

I haven't written anything here for ages. Life has been busy, I've been working, and to be honest I haven't had much time for thinking, never mind sitting down and writing about it!

But recently things have been a bit rubbish.

I've been struggling with horrendous fatigue. And I don't mean feeling a bit tired and needing an early night. I mean the sort of exhaustion where you wake up tired, spend the day tired and go to bed wondering what the hell you've actually done to be so bloody knackered.

It's difficult to explain to people who haven't experienced it. You can look absolutely fine on the outside while feeling like somebody has quietly removed your batteries.

In fact, things had got so bad that I genuinely didn't think I was going to manage my honeymoon.

Yes, honeymoon!

Only 18 months after the wedding. Nothing like being fashionably late to your own honeymoon, is there?

We had a week booked in Crete, and as it got closer I was wondering how on earth I was going to manage the airports, the travelling and everything else when I was struggling to manage ordinary everyday life.

Thankfully, with the help of the airport assistance staff, we got there. And I'm so glad we did.

We had a lovely week. Nothing particularly energetic. Lots of sleeping, late starts, little potters about, some exploring when I felt up to it and plenty of sitting in the shade watching the world go by.

Not exactly an action-packed honeymoon, but actually rather lovely.

Also something quite unexpected happened...

The warm Greek air worked wonders for my aches and pains! I was moving about more comfortably than I had been at home, which was an absolute treat.

Apparently the Greek climate had decided to do something with my hair too.

Curls! Actual curls!

Who knew all I needed was a week in Crete to sort my joints out and give me a new hairstyle?

Unfortunately, it did bugger all for the exhaustion.

That came along for the holiday too. Apparently it had packed its own suitcase and had absolutely no intention of staying behind.

So we just worked around it. If I needed to sleep, I slept. If we didn't get going until lunchtime, so what?

We still managed to see some beautiful places, eat some lovely food and spend time together.

And for once, I didn't feel the need to cram absolutely everything into every day.

Then we came home.

Back to reality, back to the usual routine, and I realised I'd found some new lumps.

Not exactly the holiday souvenirs I was hoping for.

For anyone who doesn't know, I have follicular lymphoma, a type of non-Hodgkin lymphoma. Mine is currently being managed with what's called watch and wait, which basically means keeping an eye on things until treatment is needed.

It's a strange old situation to live with. Having cancer but not having treatment. Getting on with life while knowing it's still there, quietly doing whatever the hell it fancies.

And every now and then something happens that reminds you of it.

Like finding new lumps.

I've contacted my lymphoma team, first last week and again today, and I'm waiting to hear back from them.

I don't know whether the new lumps and the fatigue are connected, whether something else is contributing to how exhausted I feel, or whether it's a combination of things.

But I do know I'm absolutely pooped.

I'm off work for a couple of weeks while we try to get to the bottom of what's going on, because right now I simply haven't got the energy to keep pushing through.

And somewhere in amongst all this, I remembered this little blog.

I used to love writing here. Getting things out of my head, putting them into words, occasionally having a good rant and finding something to laugh about in amongst the rubbish.

It was therapeutic.

And I think I'd forgotten just how much I enjoyed it.

So here I am again.

I can't promise regular updates, profound wisdom or even that I'll remember what I came here to write about by the time I've opened the laptop.

But I've got time to think again, even if I haven't always got the energy to do much else.

And perhaps writing about the reality of living with lymphoma will help me make sense of it all. The good days, the rubbish days, the unexpected curls and everything in between.

Because the thing about follicular lymphoma is that it doesn't just disappear because you've got other things to be getting on with.

Lymphoma is for life.

And apparently, so is this blog.