Back to School

After my extended stay in Birmingham where I was so far away from my family and friends (aside from my incredible mother of course!!), I was more determined than ever to get back out into MY world! The last week or so inside the hospital wasn't too fantastic due to the fact that mentally, I was pretty much back to normal. I still had nightmares and suffered the occasional blip of memory loss, but I was feeling more and more like the old me with every passing day. However, my body wasn't entirely agreeing with my mental faculties which was pretty rough. I struggled to eat very much and I was still having blood transfusions and chemotherapy through into December, but at this point I had transferred from Birmingham Children's Hospital to Bristol Children's Hospital. What felt like constant visits eventually slowed down on the 20th of November and became a little more spaced out. 

I wanted more than anything to get back to school as soon as possible and so a week after being discharged from Bristol and another week at home, my Mum would drive me into sixth form for a couple of hours at a time just so that I could see my friends and teachers who had all been so supportive over the last 6 weeks through the huge amounts of get well cards, cakes and various other pick me ups! Of course I was incredibly apprehensive about letting everyone see how i had changed physically and much like before, I didn't want anyone treating me differently on an emotional level either. The constant stream of steroids had meant that I had put on some extra weight and my immune system wasn't functioning at all so I had to wrap up inside many layers of warm jumpers to prevent me getting a cold or other infection, in case it set my treatment back. When I arrived at school, I didn't tell anyone that I was going in and surprised almost all of my friends. Aha even remembering this now is making me stupidly emotional, but seeing them stood there outside the sixth form block was heart wrenching and fantastic in equal measures. I was told by my doctors not to touch anyone in case they had a cold, but I hugged the breath out of everyone I could with my weak, tubby arms. I didn't care what anyone thought of how I looked and to me, all that mattered was how I felt being able to spend time with the people I loved. 

One thing that did amuse me especially on that first day back, was bumping someone who I hadn't spoken to for a fairly long time and the only thing they said to me was "Oh Will, with that hat, scarf and multiple layers of clothing, you look like some kind of snowman!" It still makes me laugh so much and I'm very grateful for them saying that, as it has meant that I've kept my feet on the ground through my treatment (well, as much as possible!) I saw some pretty terrible things affect some incredible people in Birmingham, a girl who wanted nothing more than to be a ballet dancer since the age of 7 was told that her tumour in her knee would mean that she might never even walk properly again. That girl smiled at me every day that I was in hospital with her, she even laughed and painted her's and her Father's toe nails when all her hair fell out. She was inspirational!

My point is, teenagers are so strong, but it can be all too easy to get caught up in our own dramas and not see the things that truly matter. I was so concerned about how I looked to everyone at school that I forgot that the only important thing to me would be spending time with the people who stuck by me through so much. This isn't some moral judgement from me by any means, I'm as guilty as the worst at getting bogged down in worrying about little things, but I feel that I can now say from experience that if you focus on what is important and what you do have, you will be a far happier person.