Coming Full Circle

I started this blog eight years ago to update friends and family when my brother was diagnosed with Acute Myeloid Leukaemia. Little did we know in those early days of his diagnosis, filled with hope, that it would be our last Christmas together. I am Matt Knell’s sister and this is the first time I have written on here since circa 2010. My post today will be a little different to the posts usually shared on this blog - I wanted to share what I’ve learned about grief and writing it here feels a little like coming full circle.

Today is seven years to the day that Matt's life was taken by cancer. And so, this time of year is littered with psychological triggers at Christmas. My subconscious connects the uniqueness of Christmas events that don’t happen year-round to the trauma of my brother’s death in our childhood home just three days before Christmas. Christmas is the epitome of bittersweet.

Putting up the Christmas tree brings flashbacks of decorating the tree while Matt lay on the sofa, too tired to join in. Putting up the Christmas tree is fun until it reminds me very morbidly that somebody else I love is going to die one day. Christmas shopping is fun until I come across fluffy socks in TK Maxx and remember throwing together an overnight bag for Matt the first night he spent in hospital - giving him his Christmas gift slipper socks early so his feet would stay warm in hospital. And with all of those little reminders, I remember that I’m going to feel all of this all over again one day. And again. And again. C.S. Lewis said, “No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear.”  I get it.

Grief is different for all of us. Every member of my family experiences the loss of Matt differently. Everyone who knew Matt will experience something unique. We deny grief in different ways, we accept it in different ways, we wrestle with it in different ways. The only thing we all have in common in grief is that we have and will encounter it multiple times in our lives. There’s no escaping it.

So what do we do now?

There is a way around it. There is a way we never have to feel grief again. Did you know? 

It looks something like this: withdrawing from all our relationships, closing our hearts off, being alone. We can avoid grief by exchanging what Martin Buber calls an ‘I-thou’ relationship for an ‘I-it’ relationship, but it will cost us everything worth living for. It will cost us joy, connection, meaning, life, compassion, understanding, and beauty.

The alternative is to open our hands out and hold the inevitability of grief delicately woven into the marrow of life’s joys. We can choose to live wholly, more intentionally, more vulnerably, more beautifully, more bravely by fully engaging in what we have - knowing its worth and what it could cost us.  We can look at grief and say, ‘Yes, I’ll take you because of what you come with’. Grief is not the enemy. Grief is the natural result of having loved and having been loved, the pain of losing the greatest privilege. And that privilege is also our purpose - to love and be loved. 

I haven’t always known this though and am still only in the early stages of seeing it. After Matt died, in many ways I became avoidant and detached. Part of this, I know now, was my brain trying to look out for me because as a traumatised seventeen year old I didn’t know how to look out for myself. Fight or flight - it’s the way we are wired. Aren’t our brains amazing? Albeit not a healthy long term strategy, flight came in handy when I wasn’t at a place to deal with the messiness of the raw trauma.

But it wasn’t long before, as an introverted fresher in a university city, I found myself with a lot of alone time. A lot of time to distract myself while grief sat patiently in the corner, saying “We can begin when you’re ready”. And slowly I started to wake up to what was going on inside. I knew I had a forked road ahead. Path A was continuing to hide under my duvet, finding excuses not to go to my lectures, flunking out of my dream degree, moving back home, missing out on my potential because something bad had happened to me. Path B was choosing to get up, asking for help, investing in my psychological and emotional wellbeing, investing in my spiritual wellbeing, walking through the pain, weeding out the unhealthy relationships, putting effort into the healthy ones, identifying the unhelpful habits, showing up and looking grief in the eye. 

Grief is a misunderstood teacher. She teaches me that it's up to me to stand on my feet when I want to hide. She gives me the opportunity to embrace post-traumatic growth and teaches me to make the best of what I have while I have it. Grief teaches me to be more present. She teaches me to open my arms wider, to forgive quicker, to love harder, to take bigger risks, to find the beauty in the mundane. Grief is teaching me to sit with her and cry, and experience the sincere weight of what it is to share my heart with people I may lose. And little by little, I’m learning to be less afraid of her. Grief is the reminder that what we had was real and that it was a part of us. If it doesn’t hurt when you lose it, was it ever worth having? If it doesn’t leave a void, did we ever really have it?

In many ways, I’m worlds apart from that sixteen year-old girl who started a blog eight years ago. In the same way Matt would be a very different person now to the nineteen year old he was when he was diagnosed. I’m older, a little wiser, much stronger. But I still get afraid. I still have bad days and hug my husband a little tighter when I remember tomorrow is no guarantee. I still catch myself when I read or hear about another person fallen victim to cancer. I still cry over my brother, I still feel bitter sometimes. I still engage in the sadness as people we lose become memories. Our lives are vapour - one minute here, gone the next. But that doesn’t make them meaningless. And we can choose to go onwards, knowing a little more about what it means to be compassionate and stand next to each other during life's unpreventable hardships. Perhaps that's really what it's all about - showing up as we are, embracing the broken, building community, awareness, and love.

I also know that this isn’t the end. This time on earth we have, it’s just a split second. When I get overwhelmed by fear and grief, this video is my ‘reset button’. I believe with every fibre of my being that there is a bigger plan. I believe in a good God who does not cause us pain, but gives us the most profound and amazing gifts of life and love which hurt when they leave because they were so wonderful to have. And although I have experienced deep sadness, my life can still be joyful. If you’re feeling lost in life, if you’re feeling overwhelmed by grief, if you’re unsure of the path life is taking you on, this video is for you too (bear with the first minute). And just as a bonus, I think Matt would have gone nuts for this kind of stuff. 

It is a very painful memory. Matthew died six years ago today.

Matt lived for 20 years, 2 months and 13 days on this earth and, whilst the memory of his death is not to be turned away from, there are many great memories to be held on to.

Those who knew Matt might remember some of the following: his smile, his sense of fun, his love of music, his enjoyment of water sports, his bravery through illness, his courage in the face of death and his faith in God.

We are still so grateful to family and friends who showed Matt such amazing support and kindness during his illness. 

May God bring good from all you have done and experienced this year and may he grant you peace and grace in all you will do and face in 2018.

David and Gisa (Matt’s dad and mum)

Mors non est finis

Dear friends of Matt and visitors to this blog,

it was a beautiful, sunny and cold Thursday 5 years ago today when Matthew died.

As you read the following poem be comforted and filled with solid hope.

If death my friend and me divide,

thou dost not, Lord, my sorrow chide,
or frown my tears to see;
restrained from passionate excess,
thou bidst me mourn in calm distress
for them that rest in thee.

I feel a strong immortal hope,
which bears my mournful spirit up
beneath its mountain load;
redeemed from death, and grief, and pain,
I soon shall find my friend again
within the arms of God.

Pass a few fleeting moments more
and death the blessing shall restore
which has snatched away;
for me thou wilt the summons send,
and give me back my parted friend
in that eternal day.

Charles Wesley

Picture taken in Tollesbury, November 2010, a month before Matt was diagnosed with leukaemia.

9th October 2016

Today would have been (or, should we say, 'is') Matthew's 25th birthday.

'Would have been' seems appropriate in one way. In this sense. We wonder what 'would have' become of Matthew's life by now had he still been living. And when we think like this we feel sad and heavy hearted.

But 'is' seems appropriate in another way because, although temporarily absent from the body, Matthew is with the Lord (2 Corinthians 5:8) and this lifts our hearts and we can even rejoice that Matt's joy is so great right at this moment.

So today we are celebrating Matt's life, doing some things Matt enjoyed doing on his birthday, like having a hearty cooked breakfast.

We are also upholding some traditions we started on the first birthday after Matt's death, like letting go of a helium balloon and watching it until it's out of sight.

This morning we have received some very precious messages from old friends who knew Matthew and new friends who didn't.

One text came from a family who showed Matt special care and friendship for a couple of weeks in September 2011 before his brain tumour was diagnosed. That practical love and kindness was a huge blessing to Matt and we will always be grateful for that. This reminds us of an important lesson. We never know how much a relatively short life or how simple acts of kindness (Mark 9:41) can significantly impact another for good.

4 years ago today Matthew died

So many memories,

So much joy,

Deep pain,

But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ!

So, much hope.

Kirby-le-Soken

Three years on...

Another anniversary is here: three years ago today Matthew died and went to be with His Saviour, the Lord Jesus Christ whose birthday we are celebrating in a few days time.

We still miss Matthew so very much and don't expect this to change. It feels as if part of us has been torn away and it hurts to think that Matthew is not with us anymore.

At the same time we hold on to the certain hope that Jesus will return, and Matthew with Him.

During 2014 we were very pleasantly surprised and encouraged when friends of ours made us aware of a book in which Matthew was quoted! The book is "You Can Pray" by Tim Chester, published by IVP. Matthew is quoted on page 104-105 &174.

Work has begun on Matthew's headstone which will be placed on his grave in Kirby-le-Soken's church yard in 2015.

Thank you to all of you who have sent us messages of encouragement throughout the year and for reminding us that Matthew has not been forgotten.

May you all have a lovely Christmas, celebrating our Saviour's birth.

Two years ago today Matthew died 

and

he went to be with His Lord and Saviour. 

Although it was a very sad day for us and we continue to grieve, we are full of confidence. Why? Because there was a day in history when Jesus Christ was raised from the dead, not as a ghost but in his real body, and God's promise is that those who are in Christ will also one day be raised to life in a glorious physical resurrection body and they will live with God forever in the new heaven and earth. Please take time to read and ponder on 1 Thessalonians 4:13-18 and Revelation 21:1-4.

We would like to share a few memories of Matthew with you:

- In the ordinary stuff of life Matthew loved good coffee, sweets, curry, lots of cereal for breakfast (defying the laws of physics to see how much he could heap into his breakfast bowl) and other good things.

- He filled his life with so much that it is sometimes hard to take in how much he achieved in only 20 years: windsurfing, kayaking, sailing, cycling, running, guitar playing, piano playing, producing his own musical compositions, listening to a wide range of music, painting, writing poems, reading and watching films and more.

- He had many wonderful friends and he so much enjoyed their company. He enjoyed visiting family and friends at home and abroad. Being able to understand and speak German was a great advantage.

- In the last few years of his life, especially, he delighted in spending time in God's presence, praying, reading the Bible, growing in his walk with God, and discussing the things he was learning along the way.

There are many more memories of course, these are just a few of them. 

Matthew's 22nd birthday

Today would have been Matthew's 22nd birthday. We miss him so much but at the same time know that he is in the presence of his best friend. 

We are aware that some of the blog's readers may never have met Matthew so we thought we would put a short slideshow here on his blog that Anna, his sister, put together. For those of you who have seen it before you may like to take another look.

Matt's letter to FACT

18 months ago today Matthew died from leukaemia. 

We miss Matthew every day but 'We believe that Jesus died and rose again and so we believe that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in him ..... For the Lord himself will come down from heaven ...... and the dead in Christ will rise....' extracts from 1 Thessalonians 4:14 & 16

In December 2010, aged 19, Matthew was diagnosed with leukaemia and he was admitted to St Bartholomew's hospital in London. A few weeks later he wrote the following letter to his colleagues at FACT (Fellowship Afloat), the outdoor activity centre where he had been working.

We would like to share his letter with you for your encouragement. Even if you have read it before we would like to ask you to read it again.

David & Gisa (Matt's parents)

Hi everyone,

I thought I'd send you all an email telling you of some of the things I'm learning whilst going through this trial. I consider you all as family and can't wait to be reunited when all this is over.

I'll start from the beginning. When the doctor phoned up on the Wednesday evening and gave me the news of my illness I was shocked but not surprised. For about a week prior to the blood test I had a thought come into my mind that I had cancer. I can't explain it but it was there; so I thought about how I would react if it was true. That pre-warning definitely helped me cope with it. 

Being in the hospital at Bart's was when I really started to think things through. I was suddenly faced with the reality of death. We all know we're going to die at some point but we don't ever think it'll actually happen. If we do then it'll probably be when we're old and in our sleep. We live pretty idealistically. I thought that anyway. So suddenly being faced with reality made me see things through a very different perspective. At first I was scared about dying. I knew in my head about Heaven etc but again the reality of that hadn't sunk in. It's amazing how many things we know in our heads, but when put to the test, we don't really believe. Since then I've done some study on death and Heaven and now I can't wait to go. I would strongly encourage you to find out more about where we're going to spend eternity. It will shape the way you spend your time now, knowing that it will effect your time in Heaven. Now I know the truth in 1 Corinthians 15:54-55 "When the perishable has been clothed with the imperishable, and the mortal with immortality, then the saying that is written will come true: Death has been swallowed up in victory. Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?". Death has lost it's victory over me. I'm not planning on going anytime soon but I'm looking forward to it when it comes! Put yourselves into the shoes of someone on their death bed. How would you cope with death?

Another thing I've learnt is what's important and what's not. 2 Corinthians 4:18 says: So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal. Money, a nice home, secure job, material things are not important. They're temporary. They wont last. They're not bad in themselves but they shouldn't be what we base our lives around. What we should base our lives around is bringing God glory in everything. 1 Corinthians 10:31 (I seem to like Corinthians) says: So whether you eat, drink, or whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God. So when you're at university your main purpose is to bring God glory. If you're still at FACT your main job is to bring God glory. Whatever you do that's the job. To love God and to love others. Let that shape your future.

John Piper says something like, 'God is most glorified in you when you are most satisfied in Him'. He calls it Christian hedonism, and it's something I'm beginning to get. Spending time reading God's word and praying has been completely refreshed. It has a whole new 'feel' to it. I long for those times. They're like breath to me. Become satisfied in Him! There's no better thing! Another thing (I've nearly finished) is that I've noticed that we go through phases in life where different sins become a problem. Things that I struggled with before going into hospital no longer have a grip on me, whereas other things have taken their place. For example, I don't think I ever had a problem with jealousy before, but since getting this illness I easily become jealous of anyone with good health. It's important to recognise sin in our lives and deal with it. It's not nice though.

Ok, finally! If you've got this far then I'm pretty impressed. God is good. Everything He allows is for good. Whatever happens with me is for His glory and for His perfect plan. Never forget that. When things are tough remember that He's always with you in everything and that He loves you and listens to you. In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus teaches us to ask, seek, and knock. We've all sought God and we've all found Him. We've all knocked and the door's been opened to us. Now we ask and we should expect to receive. Jesus said that a father who's sinful knows how to give his children good things, so God as our perfect heavenly Father knows even better how to give us good things. We've already received infinitely more than we deserve; we've been given a certain hope of a future with God where we'll have perfect bodies, without sin, without suffering. And we have so many things in this life, here on earth, that we are so blessed with.

I've written this mainly for myself to get out what I've been thinking over the last month, so please don't think I've been preaching at you! I've been preaching at myself. I learn so much from each of you and I hope you might learn something of what I'm learning at the moment too.

I end it with this, 1 Corinthians (yup, had to be!) 15:58:

Therefore, my dear brothers and sisters, stand firm. Let nothing move you. Always give yourselves fully to the work of the Lord, because you know that your labour in the Lord is not in vain.

Much love,

Matt

A year since Matt's funeral

Dear friends,

A year ago today we celebrated Matt's life in the thanksgiving service that he had planned. We would like to share a part of it with you here. Please feel free to comment and/or share it with others.

We would love to hear from you.

David and Gisa

Dear friends,

Six months ago today Matthew was called home to be with his Lord and Saviour. Since then some of you have told us about times you spent with Matt and we have loved hearing from you. 

We have heard that at the service of thanksgiving for Matthew's life, on 7 January 2012,  many hearts were moved. As most of you will know, Matthew had specified the tone and content he wanted for the service, and his prayer was that at least someone would begin life with God as a new Christian on that day.

Straight after the service a lady came to Gisa to tell her that she had become a Christian at that service. Gisa has met with her most weeks since then and we have seen her life dramatically transformed by the gospel through the work of the Holy Spirit. When asked if we could mention, in this blog, how she was touched during that service, she replied: "You can mention anything you like. I'm proud to say I'm a Christian. Being touched is a huge understatement, I think I was hit by a massive bolt of lightening that day, that has changed my life forever. You could mention that I feel the luckiest person alive. I would never deny Christ, not now, not ever."

So Matthew's prayer was answered and we would like to ask you all to pray for Louise and her family as she continues her new life with God. Also, we would love to hear from you, by email or on this blog, if your life was touched by God that day or in any way through Matthew's life or death.

We we miss Matthew so very much but at the same time we know that Matthew is with God and God is with us every day.

Thank you for your interest and prayers. Please keep in touch.

David and Gisa

Yesterday's Thanksgiving Service for the life of Matthew

Matt's thanksgiving service has now taken place and what a service it was! 
We are told there were over 500 people present, the church was filled to bursting point and it was just amazing! 
Thank you so much to all of you who could come and to all of you who couldn't but supported us all through prayer.
Matthew had written what he wanted included in the service and we believe that God was honoured in what took place yesterday.
We (Matt's parents) haven't decided whether or not to finish the blog at this point. We have heard a few encouraging accounts of the impact the service had on peoples lives yesterday. If individuals agree we might include some details in a future update.

Matt's Thanksgiving Service - Saturday 7 January 2012

After Matthew was told that nothing more could be done to make him well, he had a good week at home which he spent with family and saw a few friends. He also wrote down his wishes for a thanksgiving service for his life. His health deteriorated quite rapidly and on Thursday 22nd December he died at home. 

Matt communicated to us that he was not afraid and that he knew all the way that God was with him. Matthew was not in pain. Matt will be much missed but he is now more alive than ever in the immediate presence of his Lord and Saviour.

We would like to invite everyone reading this blog to join us in celebrating Matthew's life in a thanksgiving service on Saturday 7th January 2012 at 12 o'clock in St Mary's church Frinton-on-sea. Please check www.stmarysfrinton.org for directions. We would be so pleased if you could attend.

Matthew requested that if possible, black should not be worn.

Thank you for your support and interest during the past year.

We are looking forward to welcoming as many of you as possible .

David and Gisa (Matt's parents)

One of the last posts

On Friday night I had really painful back spasms which woke me up. I mentioned them to the doctor on the following day and she prescribed some codeine for the pain. I took two tablets and in the evening was sick. On Sunday I got the news that my neutrophills had come up to 0.6 meaning I could go home! I was still being sick and was feeling really tired and exhausted. I told the doctor this and she said it was probably down to the codeine (even though I'd only taken two tablets).

On Monday I wasn't any better and wasn't keeping any food down so on Tuesday I texted my clinical nurse in Bart's who said I should go to Colchester hospital for a check up which I did.
I had a bag of blood and the doctor I saw there wanted me to stay over night so they could give me some fluids.

Yesterday morning he came and saw me telling me that I would have an MRI scan and a bone marrow biopsy (to check things were going in the right direction) and then could hopefully go home in the evening.

I had the bone marrow biopsy in the morning and then early afternoon the consultant I'd been seeing in Colchester came and saw me. I found out that the biopsy was actually done because the day previously the doctor thought my blood counts looked a bit weird. After looking at the biopsy they could see that the counts were indeed odd and that I'd relapsed. The last load of chemo I had didn't work and there was little they could do for me now. I was told that there's some experimental treatment happening and that if I was interested she would find out some more information for me and see if I fit the criteria. Other than that they would try and keep me as well as they can for as long as they can. This could be weeks or months.

I then had the MRI late afternoon and didn't get the results - they might come out today.

It wasn't really the kind of news I was expecting to hear but I knew it was a possibility that that might be the outcome since the second relapse.

I'm now planning to enjoy Christmas and enjoy my time at home. Although this wasn't the desired news I know where I'm going and that God's in control and that it's part of His plan, even though I may not understand it this side of eternity.

One week later

A week has passed since the last update and there's not a huge lot new.
My walking (still not perfect after the op) is improving quite a bit and I'm a lot less wobbly!

At the moment I'm neutropenic and pop over to the day unit every morning and afternoon for observations, blood test and check by a doctor. Two things have happened since I've been here. Firstly, I wasn't religious enough with my mouth washes and I got a soar mouth for which I was given more mouth washes and morphine, which I haven't had to use so will save it for a 'special time' (Not really - will hang on to it incase it ever comes in handy) and secondly I put my thumb in my pocket stabbing a key or something up my nail which has since got inflamed. I was worried that the infection might get really bad as I don't have anything to fight it with, but it hasn't got worse and am hoping it will stay that way.

I've had a couple of blood and platelet transfusions and I'm pretty tired, but they only transfuse blood when the Hb is 8 or below. Mine's just creeping down very slowly but is hovering around the 8.3 mark. Low enough for me to be tired but not low enough for a boost. I'm hoping that the cause for it going down so slowly is that my counts may be recovering and will come up soon meaning I can go home.

Apparently I have an irregular heart beat too, although ECG scans show that everything is fine. So at some point I'm going to have a 24 hour ECG to see what's going on.

There's not really any other news right now. Just waiting...

Out of hospital!

On Thursday I was told that if my counts were good when I finished my chemo on the Sunday I would be able to go home. My blood test on Sunday morning showed that my counts were good, but...the pharmacy were closed and they hadn't done my medications, so I couldn't go home until last night.

The chemo this time round was a very high dose and worked out that if I were to start it in the morning I would have had the chemo every other day - but as I started it in the evening it wasn't quite like that. I ended up having a day of doing nothing but sleep and be sick and then a day of being fine and heading to the hostel over the road for the day. It was pretty horrible this time.

I'm so glad to be home and am just resting up. Had a visit to the beach this afternoon but on the whole I haven't done a huge deal.

Tomorrow morning I'm going to the day unit in Colchester to see if my blood counts have dropped below 0.5 meaning I'd have to head back up to Barts for a couple of weeks till they climb back up. I'm hoping I get a couple more days at home, but am not holding my breath. Either way I should be home in time for a Christmas at home! Unlike last year when we celebrated it in my hospital room - not quite the same!

In remission...again!

I went to Bart's yesterday and had an MRI scan as planned. Just before the end they like to inject something called contrast (a dye), so they took me out of the machine and tried 7 times to put a cannula in but every time my veins closed up so eventually they left the contrast bit out. For some reason they aren't allowed to use the PICC line - which would have made life so much easier!

Following the MRI I went to my appointment with the consultant. Instead of seeing him at 1100 I saw him at 1330, a bit of a long wait, but it was worth it. When I saw him he told me that I was doing fantastically well, am "made of hard stuff" and more importantly am in remission. He said I couldn't be doing better. This is all great news and pretty encouraging. 

The plan ahead is still a bit blurry, but I will have at least one more load of high dose chemo and possibly another afterwards too. Because I've had the same kind of chemo before and I didn't stay in remission they know I wont after just chemo this time either, so I will definitely have the bone marrow transplant. At the moment they've got a 9/10 match, who they would be happy to use, but they're still looking for a 10/10 match as this would be ideal. 

Following the appointment I had to go to the day unit for a line lock (antibiotics) to be put into my PICC line and they told me that the scan people had been on the phone and wanted the day unit nurses to try putting a cannula in. So on the 8th attempt it worked and I went back downstairs for the rest of the MRI. After that I went home! 

So, it's all good news and I'm responding to the chemotherapy which is great. I start the next load on Monday and should hopefully be out in time for Christmas at home. I have a few days at home to rest up and enjoy now. 

Round 1 down...

Yesterday I had a bone marrow biopsy in London which went well - it just aches a bit now! I'm hoping the results might be back tomorrow but I was told on the phone earlier that it could be longer. The results will show if I'm in remission or not. If I'm not in remission it'll mean that the chemo didn't work and didn't destroy the leukaemia cells and the future treatment plan will be very different. I don't know what it would look like. I'm praying I am in remission and I can carry on with treatment as planned.

Tomorrow morning I have an MRI scan followed by a clinic appointment ( chat with the consultant). After that I'm coming back home and will be readmitted (if all's going to plan) on Monday.

I'm about to go to Colchester hospital as I need to have antibiotics put in my PICC line every day for 10 days and then will go up to London and stay there over night in time for tomorrow morning.

Last Saturday I was very grateful to be given tickets to see England beat Spain at Wembley. Below are a couple of photos from the game.

Count's are up!

I finished my chemotherapy on the 23rd and was then waiting for my immune system to come back up. I was well and fine, although pretty tired during that time, until Monday this week when my temperature shot up. It was around the 39 degree mark (sometimes higher and thankfully sometimes a bit lower) until Thursday when it came down. The high temperature was due to a lung infection I somehow managed to pick up, but I'm on antibiotics to clear that up, and today I found out that my neutrophills were 0.2, so were I better I could go home in a day or so, but due to antibiotics and still not feeling 100% I don't know when I'll go home yet, but I hope it will be soon.

The Dr. said that my infection was getting better and that I'm having the right drugs to treat it, but I've noticed how my breathing has become worse resulting in coughing, especially when trying to sleep. I'm hoping the Dr's right though and things are on the mend.

That's all for now, updates will continue.

Short update

I'm part way through my chemo now. I had two drugs at the beginning but one of them was only to be given three times and I'm glad that that has ended as it was quite a rough one. I finish the first round of treatment either today or tomorrow - am not sure yet, but hoping it's today!

My spirits are staying high and I'm so looking forward to being better and life resuming again - I'm pretty bored of all this now!

My blood counts are dropping and I need transfusions to keep my blood products up, so I wont be coming home in between this set of treatment. I can imagine there will be another 2/3 weeks being here before I'm allowed back home.

On the plus side New Zealand won the rugby this morning which I was able to watch in my room - even if it was a bit of a disappointing game!

My weight is coming up and I weighed 63kg yesterday. I'm eating lots and having lots of build up shakes (they have about 900+kcal) which seem to be doing the trick! I'll be back up to my normal weight soon I hope.

I think that's all for a now, just a quick update - I'm still around and doing a lot better as I was pretty sick at the beginning of the week but am fine now. I also had an MRI scan at the beginning of the week which was positive with no signs of regrowth! Some great news!

Thanks for the continuing support and prayers!