Choosing happy…

No idea where that week went, it’s crazy how quickly time is running. It’ll be Christmas soon…too soon for the C word? Never! :)

I’m already planning my decorations, in fact I’ve planned one of my trees, collected together all the bits I need for it…and then tidied them away and now can’t find them. I’ve spent 2 weeks searching in vain for them.

So that tree’s over.

Anyway, back in the real world (the boring one, the one without day dreaming, planning and decorations), Chris and I were hosting a table of clients at the racecourse, the one about a four minute drive from our house.

We decided to take some Essex based clients, clients who fall into the category of friends as well as business associates of Chris.

So the venue was 2 miles from our home, the clients are well known to us, and actually friends, the music for the concert after the horse racing was 80s pop (a fun genre by most people’s standards), so why then was I nigh on crippled with anxiety about going there from the moment I woke up Saturday morning?

God only knows, it was bonkers, there was no pressure, no expectation on us. And yet I was sick to my stomach with fear and dread.

ALL day, no let up, I couldn’t focus, I couldn’t placate myself. I spiralled completely out of control.

It’s the worst anxiety I’ve had in a long time.

We nearly got stuck in Ireland the weekend before, when UK air traffic control systems went down. I wasn’t bothered in the slightest (apart from trying to work out how I’d get a few spare bags until the next available flight. But I felt Instagram or Twitter friends would come to my aid, I was bound to find someone in Ireland with a colostomy bag spare I could use). I could understand it if I had freaked out completely then. I can’t understand why I was panicking about a fun event with friends.

In the end, on Saturday, before we got ready to go to the races, Chris said to me that it was absolutely fine for me not to go. He said it was meant to be enjoyable, and clearly this wasn’t.

He said he’d tell the others I wasn’t feeling well, and that I was perfectly free to stay home. He is very understanding and very kind.

And to be honest I did think about it, I very much considered it. It would literally be the easiest possible solution.

But at the same time it angered me that I would be letting myself be dictated to by feelings and thoughts created inside my own head.

I refuse to let my stoma dictate what I can and can’t do, and I’m certainly going to fight against the insecurities my brain chooses to throw at me.

So I put my big girl pants on and got ready, the feelings didn’t subside, I was cold sweating all the way there, like a feeling of impending doom all through the four minute drive there.

I felt in no mood to dazzle and shine, I felt rotten and other worldly.

We arrived, got to the table and as our friends started to arrive, I started feeling better…Of course I would, why would I be anxious about being with friends?

I guess one reason is that I’m not great in big crowds in general. I fear the unpredictability of other people. I especially don’t like big crowds who are pissed up, the fear factor is off the chart with a room full of shitfaced people…and horse racing events are very very boozy.

Saturday was a very busy very boozy night (Not for most of our table in fairness as not many of our guests drink to start with, and nor do Chris or I).

The event is amazing for people watching, we had a fabulously placed table right in the eye line of the stage for the music to follow. (It pays to know one of the event organisers. Claire you are the best!).

Anyway, we had been there about 3 hours before I remembered that I had actually dreaded coming here.

That my heart had been racing out of my chest, and I felt I couldn’t catch my breath all day long. But I was here and really enjoying myself.

Dress from Jigsaw, Shoes from Hermes, Bag from Balenciaga

It’s a fantastic event and I’d really recommend it. Chelmsford City Racecourse has quite a few music and racing events on throughout the year.

Watching all the fellow attendees is great viewing. There are girls dressed up to the nines as if it were ladies day at Ascot, to people in jeans and T shirts. It’s a real mixture of anything goes! And why the hell not!?

Some of us are never likely to go to Ladies day at Ascot, I’ve certainly never been, no plans to go, so why not get the feel of it by dressing to impress at the local racecourse. Life’s short, so you might as well live it with added sparkle.

It was actually such a great day!

Helped by the fact that one of the organisers arranged for us to give out one of the winner’s trophies in the parade ring.

Which added a bit of excitement to the day. :)

The music in the evening was amazing. To the point we lost Matt quite a lot as he went off to get lost in music…literally at one point when we wanted to leave and he was nowhere to be found. :)

I’d had a very good evening, and then it came to getting in the throngs of people heading out the doors to the carpark. And that’s when my anxiety came roaring back.

Very very very drunk people in great numbers has always been a fear of mine, even when I was one of the very very very drunk people.

Maybe because I’ve seen too many fights break out, and a two of my friends were knifed on a night out when I was a teen, that it makes me feel very on edge.

But actually they were all in good spirits, and we got to our car and out of the area in record time, and home before some of our group had even left the carpark. It can be very challenging to leave.

I felt so relieved that I went, but also that it was now over.

My anxiety is mild in comparison to some people who struggle with it, I’m very lucky in that I guess. Mine is usually caused by the thought of attending events, I get very nervous and fretful, and incredibly overthinky about meeting new people. Which I think is pretty normal. I don’t know why it went so haywire about an evening being spent with friends.

The following day Chris and I were up with the larks ready to drive to Birmingham (One of the many and various reasons I enjoy sober life, early starts after events is a pleasurably pure feeling, well, bordering on smug to be honest). ;)

Milly was attending a crafters exhibition, so we arranged to meet Sam and Zak at the Sealife Center there, and to meet up with Mils for dinner later on.

Dress from Michael Kors, Shoes from Hermes, Bag from Goyard.

Zak started big school this week so we wanted to see him before the big day came.

No, I have no idea where the last four and a half years has gone, but then I have no idea where the Christmas decorations I collected 4 weeks ago has gone either.

We had such a fantastic day! We’ve not been to Birmingham before but I’d definitely recommend it. It’s a really beautiful city.

The Sealife centre is amazing, and Birmingham is home of the world’s biggest Primark, so it’s worth a visit for that alone. :)

What have I been wearing for the last week?

Well, definitely less jeans! Or anything tight. Coming out of the backlog of constipation has lifted my mood. I don’t know if it’s a medical fact, but being so brutally constipated really lowered my mood. I didn’t just feel sluggish, I felt uncomfortable, and un me, I just couldn’t shake the feeling of yuckness.

I’ve felt lighter - physically and emotionally since it cleared.

Dress from Tesco

Dress from Nobody’s Child, Shoes from Gina

Dress from Monsoon

Dress from Michael Kors

Dress from Ghost, Shoes and Bag from Dior

This final dress, above, was my outfit to my MRI scan on my back and hips. The scan took images from my neck to my bum. Which meant I was in the actual machine for an hour and a half.

Which is a super long time. When I had all my scans for cancer I was in them for half that.

So it was a bit of a surprise that it was so long. Thankfully and luckily, I’m not terribly bothered by MRI, I absolutely get why people get claustrophobia in them, but it’s not one of my issues…probably because I spend an inordinate amount of time cramped up in small places as I like to hide from Chris to jump out on him…oh how we laugh…well, I do, he’s not a fan. Hahahaha.

I don’t like caving or pot holing or anything like that, but scan machines don’t fret me. The biggest issue I had was I had to lie on my back for an hour and a half, and if I could do that easily and comfortably I probably wouldn’t need the scan to start with. ;)

I was offered a list of music to listen to while the machine did it’s thing. The play lists were a bit limited, and I really felt that choosing ABBA classics would lead to me bopping a long to it, so I chose Ministry of Sound Chill Out, a safe bet, or so I thought. I was enjoying the mellow tunes, until one song came on, which happens to be one of the pieces of music I have chosen for my future funeral. Well that jolted me out of my chilling out time.

Trapped in a plastic sarcophagus with Adagio for strings playing, most unfortunate. But it’s still a great choice for when my day comes.

If you read my blogs you’ll know I’m a big fan of making plans for our own funerals now, literally right now, to save our loved ones the misery of not knowing what you would have wanted.

Five minutes jotting down a list of things we’d like, things we wouldn’t like and a play list could help make a difficult time for our loved ones a whole lot easier. It’s the gift of peace of mind for those left behind. It’s not morbid or macabre, it’s simply practical and reassuring.

I wasn’t expecting a trial run of my funeral that day, but practice makes perfect I guess! ;)

Anyway, I jokingly mentioned it on my Instagram Stories, everyone seemed to get my dark humour. Apart from one lady who I don’t know, who I have never interacted with, and I don’t follow, messaged me an incredibly blunt and insensitive question.

FYI, I thought I looked the picture of rude health!

But clearly not…

It literally took my breath away.

I don’t even know her, never interacted with her, and I don’t follow her, and she bluntly asks like that?!

“Are you okay hun?” Might have been a more tactful way to start such a deeply personal conversation.

I don’t know if she’s just being impolite, or maybe she’s terminally ill herself and wanted companionship and comradeship.

I wish her well, but fuck me, build up to questions like that please. I’d advise against blurting! And this is me talking, an almost uncontrollable blurter!

I believe that some people have been desensitised by social media. All the polite behaviours we have in real life go out the window, but words can wound, I’d have been distraught to have received a message like that when I was going through chemo and radiotherapy.

I remember one time when Sam (our eldest son who was diagnosed with cancer aged 13) was very sickly looking during chemo and we took him to a local cafe for lunch (Rayne Station Cafe is the best!), we were sitting there minding our own business, when a man came up, nodded his head in Sam’s direction and said “cancer is it?!”

We were a bit taken aback by his bluntness, especially as Sam was sitting there…with his fragile broken body in a wheelchair, and tufty bald head.

We said “yes”…..

….he then proceeded to follow it up with….

“Terminal is he!?”

I nearly choked on my sandwich!

Sam turned to him and beautifully replied;

“I bloody well hope not, no one told me if I am?!?!”

The man said “oh” and walked away, and presumably carried on with his day as planned.

It was such a shock, but we did laugh, we’re a bit like that, we find humour in the darkest of places. But it has always stayed with me.

I never asked people for their prognosis if they mention cancer to me. Mainly because it’s none of my business unless they choose to tell me.

Sam is well, and I would say in fine health, but he lives with a lot of collateral damage from cancer. So he has a lot to deal with but he’s happy and living a very good life.

Which is the biggest blessing anyone could ask for, and believe me, I asked the universe for it a lot.

I hope the lady who asked me the question is okay. I wish her well. But also wish her a filter. ;)

Much love, keep well xx