Chemo No

From May onwards this year I went through an aggressive combination of treatment and now I sit chewed up and spat out on the other side of this medical ordeal.

Chemotherapy is one of the bravest things a human can do my friend Leanne Pero says and now I understand.

Now I am a REAL cancer patient at the mercy of intrusive treatments and therapies. At Masala Wala Cafe August 2019

Dabbling with target drugs before was a breeze compared to what I have been through this year.

It took me to the edge, somewhere I had never been before in my life, I felt a sense of madness, like I could not hang on, like I could not continue living here.

Every part of my being felt thick like fog, I could not think straight, I felt frozen in time with depressive thoughts and restricted with chemotherapy/immunotherapy side effects.

To add to the overwhelming pile of stage 4 cancer problems, I encountered total hair loss, sensitive tastebuds, weight loss, nausea, extreme fatigue, neuropathy, under active thyroid, blown veins, lower immunity, digestive issues and various aches and pains.

I needed a portacath fitted for regular treatments as my poor veins could not cope with the toxic drugs being administered.

Portacath fitted July 2019

The first surgical procedure failed leaving a 3cm wound, the second attempt was a success under my left arm.

I was left with multiple wounds which I had to pay particularly close attention to as my immunity was compromised.

I had never been put under local anaesthetic in my life for surgery, this was a big challenge for me to overcome.

My chronic pain alleviated, I should have been relieved, to have a chance at quality of life.

Yet my tastebuds yell for spices I so adore, my brain wants my body to run around and do things 100mph like I once did.

I look in the mirror in total shock at the woman looking back, she is now a fatigued stranger, a shell of my former self.

Yet my spirit is still here, not clear at times, but she is still here…

SHE WILL ALWAYS BE HERE xxx

Malaga Holiday October 2019

Happy Cancerversary

On this day one year ago, life as I knew it changed forever.

I had been told after a short spell of illness that there was metastatic cancer in my body.

Just like that, boom everything changed colour, taste, feeling, my world as I knew it over in a 20 minute doctors meeting.

ARE YOU FUCKING SURE

sprang to mind

I DON’T WANT THIS

THIS ISN’T PART OF THE PLAN

Also I had dealt with enough medical shenanigans having had a traumatic miscarriage three months previous.

I was shell shocked, that this young brown girl had been picked to have cancer.

How did it manifest inside me in such a short amount of time?

I have barely lived! 

I felt disgusted because I did not know anyone going through it, because everyone I knew that had cancer was DEAD.

Cancer = Death no wonder I spiralled into panic.

Thanks to modern medicine and my stubborn persistence to live i’m still here give or take some intense nerve pain and a restricted arm.

I’m at the end of my natural prognosis (6-12 months without treatment) so everything from here on out is ‘extra time’ baby.

Women remember everything, it’s so annoying that I remember my diagnosis date along with lots of other useless information like my first date with Gareth.

Women use these dates as annoying markers for goodness knows what, just to add extra admin to our busy little brains.

As I write this the tree in my back garden is full of cherry blossom once again, I feel emotional as I compare the two springs, one where I was sick and full of uncertainty and one where i’m diagnosed as sick and still full of uncertainty.

With my G – June 2018

So much has happened between these two seasons I am no longer the same girl, my fertility and future out of my hands, uncertainty once again casting shadow over my day to day life.

It has been quite the challenge to accept that I cannot plan my future like I can plan menus, yet I feel totally and utterly comfortable living like this now.

A year on after trying a couple of target drugs which have stopped working I am now undergoing a new combination of Chemotherapy, Immunotherapy and Targeted therapy for my particular circumstance.

At Maidstone Hospital having my second round of combination drugs June 2019

I have been non responsive to target drugs yet no new mutations,  the combination is called ‘IMpower 150’, cool name right?

The initial fear, CHEMO, visualising sick people and bald heads made me shudder, but I have cancer through no choice of my own so must look to overcome and conquer my fears and work through this new chapter that I have quite frankly been blessed with.

This combination has proved to show positive results and brand new on our beloved NHS.

I recently had a break from writing and work commitments as chronic pain took hold and robbed me of my attention span and ability to physically write, walk and carry out the simplest of daily tasks.

I am improving and responding to this new treatment everyday and sharing my vulnerability through this whole process has completely……. IMpowered me

Ending on a terrible joke because my sense of humour has also come back.

Ha. xxx

Bristol – May 2019

Sisterhood

I have been thinking about a word I use a lot, ‘sisterhood’ and what it means.

I am an exceptional circumstance where the greater beings above gifted me with three wonderful sisters and my mother who gave birth to all four of us by Caesarian section.

ALL FOUR!

Disappointment when a girl is born is quite common in south Asian culture. Boys are viewed as much superior, so there was me, the first born in 1989 then Sanam and Ikra were born a few years apart.

GIRLS, would you believe?

Health risks increase with every Caesarian procedure yet my mother went there and out popped girl number four, Nafeesa in 1996.

We are like a girl band, without the musical talent.

From a young age I have been surrounded by lots of girls, crappy girly toys, polly pockets, barbies & hair clips.

We spent a lot of time ruining my mother’s makeup and shuffling around the house in her court shoes and clothes whilst she cooked us dinner.

I am lucky that this is what I know, as I grew older my feelings towards friendships were similar to my family.

I look not just for loose acquaintances but for sisters.

Girls I could talk to about anything and everything and be myself around, people I could support and turn to in times of need.

I grew up with my next door neighbour Sarah Inge, born three months apart we attended primary and secondary school together. She is classed as the unofficial ‘fifth sister’, we have spent ridiculous amounts of time together and have a truly special bond.

I look at my beginnings and as rocky as other aspects of my life have become I can see my roots were very strong.

I had the female foundations set up to support me today and I’m extremely grateful for this.

When my parents divorced it was vitally important for my sister unit to stick together.

My mother tainted with a divorce status, divorce being massively frowned upon in south Asian culture.

Then there was us,

FOUR GIRLS, what a burden.

How the hell was my mother going to manage to marry us all off on her own, would have been a popular thought of hers and many south Asian women.

My family are surviving and have got to this point despite the societal, financial and cultural challenges because we stuck together through it all.

To this day despite a stage 4 cancer diagnosis we have a multi award winning female run restaurant in a male dominated industry.

We would not be where we are without the army of supporters (majority women) behind us, lifting us up in times of need and generally being our cheerleaders.

The warped messages women have been taught for so long is to simply hate ourselves and to hate each other, how gross is that?

In my culture the worst critics are women, when I visited Pakistan recently it was the women who were giving me war style interrogations about why I wasn’t married still and being critical about my clothes not being fashionable enough.

The men seemed way more relaxed, with passing questions and comments.

Maybe my aunties mouths were bigger, or they had genuine limited views on what or who women should be, I think it’s the latter and that’s really sad.

Us ladies are extremely hard on ourselves, in a mans world we need to unpick what we have been taught by society and media.

Women are so beautiful and so unique, Hollywood and the era of perfect celebrity is dying, we are better than that in 2019.

We don’t need to be married off like property and become someone’s ‘responsibility’, we have greater minds than that!

We are not defined by our titles or how many children we have or dishes we can cook, we are bigger than that.

There was a saying emblazoned on my restaurant Masala Wala Cafe windows for the first year of trading, it read ‘women are the real architects of a community’, a quote by Harriet Beacher Stowe.

This rings so true, we are there quietly working, helping the world go round at the credit to men.

Globally we have made plenty of progress so far but only through sisterhood will we make more noise and achieve better equality for women in this world.

When women support women, mountains move, stick together ladies xxx

 

Full Circle

Round and round we go, life is like a series of circles. 

So here I am one year on from the most extraordinary year where life slapped me alive.

End of January 2018 I was newly engaged to my love and I experienced a devastating miscarriage which led to a spell of ill health and a cancer diagnosis, life as I knew it changed forever.

I have been looking back and so very sad for the previous version of me, as I look to just be stable and live in peace now, innocent dreams now tainted as I carry this new cancer world with me.

Where I am now is very testing as I have experienced true pain as a symptom of the cancer, a tumour causing brachial plexus compression, nerves in my right arm are being obstructed and I have lost some mobility due to this.

Feelings of fear and anger have surfaced of how my body is capable of working against me like this, like a betrayal of sort. 

This experience has been mentally testing as I have had to learn to be patient with daily mundane tasks, let alone cooking and writing. Feelings of shame has been a huge factor to challenge as my mind wonders what people will think as I am a restaurateur and cannot even hold a spoon properly.

On top of this the synthetic drugs that are helping me cope generally numb your brain down and come with a whole host of side effects to counter the good they do to control the pain.

Funny that one year on after quite a good spell of stability and being very independent and busy living that I am having a taste of the cancer patient life again.

I am currently on a cocktail of pain drugs and have just had five sessions of radiotherapy to my neck.

I found this process traumatic, attending hospital for days and days for tests, sessions, scans and appointments, the faint baby blue walls, the crusty faded uninspiring art, the gaunt faces of patients, full of sadness and despair.

Hospitals are places that supposedly heal people yet everyone there looks sick of life and ready to throw in the towel.

The sessions although short and very quick were painful, I would have to lay on a hard table with a custom made face mask to keep my head still during the sessions. The nerve pain shooting through my arm constantly reminding me why I was there in the first place.

Life throwing me those fire bombs, triggering my post traumatic stress disorder as I flash back to previous hospital admissions.  

I recently hit a milestone, I made it to the grand old age of 30, which without medical intervention would not have been possible.

I marked the occasion with loved ones with my favourite food and drinks at home, yet I had this dull pain in my arm at the time reminding my that my life is limited, that the next decade is not guaranteed.

Despite all of this, I am here to move forward, this resilience I do not know where I am finding it but through all of this darkness is hope, that things will change, that everything is temporary.

My life will keep moving and appearing different and my emotions will change, my pain will change, I will see improvements and I will see decline.

I know I have golden moments ahead where I will laugh so hard to the point of tears, I know I will achieve great things, I will travel and continue to be inspired by life.

I thought I would be getting used to this thing called life but every damn day something new blows up in my face and humbles me that I know nothing and have so much to learn. 

Life ever transient running in circles.

New Year, Present Me

Every year we kid ourselves, new year new me! 

That we are going to change dramatically with the turn of the new year, whether it be physical aesthetics or changing addictive habits.

How about our spiritual and mental wellbeing?

This is something that usually takes a back seat as we all continue to attempt to cope with modern-day stresses.

Jobs or occupations that consume every hour followed by financial woes and then there is social pressure to be accepted whatever the hell that means, going out, drinking, being seen, wearing the coolest fashion, having the most hygge home, owning a home, having a bigger home, going on lavish holidays, being feminist enough, having aggressive yet agreeable political views, virtue signalling, pretending you care, having children, wanting children, getting married, dating anyone and everyone and in the same breath we are all DISCONNECTED and DEPRESSED more than ever.

Exhausting just writing all this, I’m just pushing the modern thought process.

How about growth, naturally evolving constantly like a beautiful plant and appreciating the everyday miracles?

My serious life style changes took place half way through 2018 and felt scary yet liberating too, I felt true change within myself, slowly as I recovered from what I now acknowledge as near death.

There are no two ways about it, my body was trying to kill itself.

The second largest vein in the human body, superior vena cava moves blood from the upper half of the body to the heart and I had a ruddy tumour obstructing it, quietly, silently, it was literally killing me.

At times, as ridiculous as it sounds I experienced imposter syndrome as without medical intervention it would be impossible for me to be here today, I was DYING.

It was a gradual, heartbreaking yet a therapeutic process for me to recover from this and look forward, instead of my brain feedback looping the traumatic events of this year. 

For the first time I am here, now, aware, I am not consumed by the financial/survival pressures this modern world has put upon me, my family are safe and regardless of my terminal diagnosis so am I.

My message this year is to DO LESS, you can still be productive and purposeful.

Stress is pulling the trigger on so many modern diseases, causing inflammation, anxiety, IBS, gut and digestive health issues, cancer, heart disease/attacks, depression, strokes, addiction, we are all cells and our mind and body are totally one hundred percent connected.

Not for one moment am I blaming diseases on individuals, what I want to do is empower myself and hopefully others to overcome lifes hurdles, whatever they may be by taking ownership.

I am constantly asked about the process of being diagnosed and what the doctors say but rarely am I asked…… and then what happened after?

What’s life like LIVING with cancer everyday? 

I have never felt so at peace in my entire life, I have forgiven so many traumatic factors that may have contributed to my condition and I have got a handle of my PTSD and anxiety to the best of my ability. 

Most importantly my focus is on ensuring as I continue with my care giving nature, serving others that I explored through starting a restaurant and sharing my experiences, that I totally love myself and nourish my soul and body too.

I first ‘came out’ online in June this year (2018) after letting the words stage 4 cancer sink in for about 6 weeks.

My colourful and passionate world totally shattered, it cut me deep, like a bad relationship break up with myself. 

A mixture of messages poured in of love and also total and utter fear, people exclaimed ‘sorry for you’, ‘sorry YOU are going through this’, almost separating and isolating my condition from themselves.

The messages I was particularly drawn to, which brought my great comfort were of empathy, hope and encouragement, not empty pity.

I’m a warrior and not programmed to shy away and hide in the corner and those who knew me well enough cheered me on at my weakest.

I did not look like those white bald heads you usually see on the adverts, dying, I was far from that generic cancer picture.

I wanted to show myself and others that there are other stories to be had and that there is a life before and after a terminal diagnosis no matter what age or race you are.

This year I am patting myself on the back for the little miracles, health is stable, I am still that British Pakistani restaurateur, newly wed Wife, Sister, Daughter, adding writer/blogger to my credentials. 

I have loose goals for this year but nothing is set in stone because well life is not guaranteed to me or anybody so live passionately yet more peacefully now!

You do not have to be anything or anyone, you are perfect just the way you are and can damn well do what you want when you want. 

Happy New Year, heres to a gradually transformative 2019 for all xxx