Two steps forward, three steps back

Today isn't one of the good ones.

I'm fine, and my new freelance work is going great. I'm really enjoying it... it's only for two weeks, but there could be a possibility of me providing future cover if all goes to plan.

I'm struggling with my hip though. I'm not sure if sitting at the computer has triggered it - I've been at the kitchen table, working while dad supplies endless cups of tea and saucers of biscuits, but perhaps this sitting position has made me sore.

I was managing to walk unaided this past week or so. We went into London at the weekend and, although we took the wheelchair, I did a fair amount of walking on my own. It felt great. But now I'm having to use a crutch to get around the house and down the drive to J's car just to go out for lunch (which was yummy, by the way!). I feel like I've made such progress and now it's been overshadowed.

Positive thinking, I know that's what I need. It's mighty difficult when you're in such pain, though.

Oh, I do like to be beside the seaside

Our holiday to the Norfolk coast was more than I could have hoped for... baby girl and I had the nicest time. While we were away we had visits from numerous people - my dad and his partner, baby girl's daddy and his son and girlfriend, a few old friends came to spend days with us. The sea air did me the world of good... I'm currently able to walk unaided (if not for long) and to pick up Tinkerbell without any help. I'm beyond happy. Can't make you understand how good it feels to be a mummy again. Being able to bath my little angel and put her to bed myself... just the little things mean the world to me.

The best thing of all about our break away was being able to take Mini Me swimming. I haven't been able to since she was born because of post-labour issues, then operations, chemo, more operations... so having a bit of a bob in the water with my baby girl held up against me was incredible.

Now we're home, and I'm feeling so well. It's ironic, really, that I have this "death sentence" hanging over me but I'm feeling better than I have in about 12 months! Lots of things are happening, and all good things.

Starting next week, I'm doing two weeks freelancing for a magazine - it's working from home, just covering some holiday, but it's going to be good to dip my toe back into some work. Plus a bit of money in the run up to Christmas will be very welcome!

Also starting next week, baby girl and I are going to baby singing classes and a tumbling tots group. I want to get her out and about and meeting other little tots while I'm well enough to take her.

I have no idea when my next chemo will start, but my friends and I have plans for the next few weekends (santa's grotto visiting, Christmas markets etc etc), so hopefully the poison-givers will hold off until the new year to let me have a nice birthday and Christmas - can't be worse than last year's birthday when I was having a bit of lung chopped out, anyway!

Sabbatical: to take a rest from work

You can call me cynical, but I think some of my friends and family may be taking advantage of this "Emmy has cancer" thing. Here's why...

Firstly, when I was in hospital having an "episode" a few months ago, my dad's partner handed her notice in at work with immediate effect. Apparently it was so that she could be around to look after my dad and me, but I have my doubts.

Then, my dad has really cut back on his writing work. Apparently he has his hands full running me around for hospital visits and generally keeping an eye on me.

Even my step-son has been trying to blag days off from nursery to "seep wick mummy" (ie, sleep with mummy). He's already learning how to be a slacker!

And then, J - well, he's pushed the playing the cancer card to a whole new level! He's taking a two-month sabbatical from work. Talk about milking it!

I hope you know I'm joking... I appreciate all of the sacrifices my family are making for me more than I could ever express. I get a bit uncomfortable talking about it as they've all done so much for me and I could never repay them. I'm humbled by it, to be honest.

J's two-month sabbatical started last week, and I already don't know what I'm going to do when it's over and he has to go back to work. He's had to agree to work right through Christmas to be allowed this time off - I hope he understands how much this means to me.

We're already trying to make the most of it. Yesterday, he and I found a baby singing and music group and signed up for it (with baby girl, of course). And now I'm off my treatment (for the time being) we're going to take Mini Me swimming as soon as I'm feeling up to it! Swimming was one of the things I was most looking forward to doing with my daughter, and I haven't been able to do it yet, so I can't wait!

Plus, my dad has booked a cottage on the Norfolk Coast so we're off there for a holiday. My baby girl's first holiday!

We have two months to make the most of. I know it's going to fly by, and I'm dreading December... but I'm quite excited about all our plans.

But... I don't want any of my other friends thinking they can use my cancer card to gain a free holiday - it's my cancer and I'm using it for all its worth, but that doesn't mean that y'all can!

Poorly Princess

My little princess is a poorly girl today. She's had a cold threatening for a while, but today it's out in full force. Bless her heart, she's quite a drama queen, throwing herself on the floor and coughing like an old man.

I blame the parents.

Now, don't get me wrong, I don't want my baby girl to be poorly, not one bit. But when she is, it gives me the chance to concentrate on her. And everyone else to concentrate on her. My dad asks "how's monkey feeling?" rather than "how are you?".

That might sound selfish and diva-like, not wanting people to ask after me all the time. I know they care, but it can get a bit repetitive and it frustrates me. My little monkey needs a bit more care and attention than I need at the moment, and that's fine by me.

I've drizzled her in Calpol and put a little spray up her button nose to help her breathe, and now we're settling down under our blankets to watch Finding Nemo.

The photo of her, by the way, is from her birthday a couple of weeks ago. I don't remember it properly since I had a bit of an "episode" that evening, but she looked beautiful... always does!

We miss you

Shoes, shoes, wonderful shoes

I think almost everything concerning cancer is nasty, but there are some real horrors out there. Just been briefly discussing this one with a friend and it made me want to write a little note about it...

Shoes.

All girls like shoes. End of. All of us. Those that say "I'm not a typical girl, I don't like shoes..." They're lying. Fact.

Since getting the tumour on my pelvis, my movement has been fairly limited. I use crutches for getting around the house and short walks, but have to be pushed around in a wheelchair the rest of the time.

Apart from being quite restricted with speed (on the crutches) and feeling like a lazy bones (in the chair), oh and the constant pain, the most heartbreaking thing about all this is not being able to totter around in my heels!

I'm a shoe queen. Think Carrie Bradshaw, and you're about there. There were several boxes of heels, boots and wedges when I moved into my dad's house last year. I've had to put most into the loft (at my dad's request), but I still manage to wear most of the ones I saved. My friends laugh at me for wearing my nicest boots - knee-high, high heel - when I'm out in the chair, but I'm not wearing fluffy slippers all the time just because I'm sitting!

In fact, because I'm not walking I can wear shoes that would usually hurt my feet. We've all got them!

There's no place like home

It doesn't matter what or where your home is, sometimes there is just nowhere you would rather be. I used to think that it didn't matter where I was, as long as I was with my family and friends then I would feel like I was at home.

Recently, I've come to realise that that's simply not true.

During numerous hospital visits and stays, despite always having someone that I love around me I've never felt like I'm in my special place... my home.

This weekend I talked quite openly to my dad. No one knows for sure how long I have - they've guesstimated so far, but until I start treatment and they check to see how I've responded, they can't really take an educated guess. And, because of that, there were and are a few things I feel I need to talk to people about sooner rather than later.

My main concern through everything is my daughter. Her daddy, my dad and his partner, and my friends have always worked so hard together to make sure my little Tinkerbell is cared for, loved, looked after... even when her mummy can't do it. I've no doubt in my mind that after I'm gone she will be happy, healthy and safe.

One thing that has been on my mind for only the last couple of days, is how and where I'll be in my last days. At the moment, I feel like I want to be at home. I need to know that my dad is going to be by my side. He's looked after me my whole life, and I want him to see that I go safely... and he'll need to know that I'm peaceful and ok.

I don't know if it's the right thing for my baby girl to be around me at the end. I think possibly not. I know her daddy will want to be with me, but I'm not sure he could handle it. I love him to pieces and he's as strong as an ox when he wants to be, but he's so gentle and sensitive - seeing me go would either help him, or damage him for life.

There are other special people, and I'm still to give some thought to them... what they can handle, what is best for them, what they're capable of doing due to circumstances...

My dad has told me I am thinking of everyone else too much, but I need to do that to keep my mind from dwelling on my woes all the time.