Find Your Sense of Tumour - Second Time Around

Appropriately it would seem, my 50th blog post will be about an incredible experience I recently had that even after almost 2 and a half years of treatment, changed my perception towards dealing with cancer once more.

Last weekend I was privileged enough to not only be allowed back to Find Your Sense of Tumour (the annual Teenage Cancer Trust conference for hundreds of young people who convene at Nottingham Centre Parcs) but I was also given the opportunity to speak on the Sunday afternoon to the rest of the invitees. I was asked to outline the benefits and indeed problems that can be associated with blogging due to the Teenage Cancer Trust having read some of my previous posts on this page. I know it might sound a little corny but after the profound effect that last years FYSOT had on my approach to treatment, I was truly honoured to be asked to say a few words.

However, the weekend was vastly different to the experience that I had last year. For one thing, this year, everyone who attended was between the ages of 18 and 25 which for me was brilliant! Being one of the youngest I spoke to many people who had already finished treatment and had started experiencing life beyond cancer, giving me an encouraging boost for my final year (and one month and 2 days) of treatment. However, the weekend was by no means just a holiday break, an escape from the monotony of school work, as I found that at times I was overwhelmed by the somewhat strange atmosphere. It stands to reason that if you're surrounded by hundreds of people who share the commonality of having a disease, then that's what is going to be primarily discussed. I went from my home environment where I try and put my Leukaemia to the back of my mind, treating myself like a "normal" person, to a place where I was surrounded by the very thing I try every day to forget. I know lots and lots of people deal with having cancer differently and for many, surrounding themselves with other people who share their experiences really motivates them, but sadly this isn't the case for me. I had forgotten the intensity of emotions at FYSOT and I did find it a little distressing watching some people break down at the inspirational talks and others sit their smiling and laughing. It messed with my head a little bit to be honest! This however, did not detract one tiny bit from the absolutely amazing people I met. After shutting myself away from other people with cancer (partly due to not being on a Teenage Cancer Trust Ward for the majority of my treatment as the Royal Gloucester Hospital does not have one) I found it exhilarating to meet teenagers with the most incredible stories of diagnosis, treatments etc. that I'd never have been able to imagine.

I was thrown in with the Bristol and South West group and was fairly nervous about being the little country boy from the Cotswolds with one of the most common (and in my mind, least "interesting") cancers. Yet every single one of the people I met had a maturity and understanding beyond any of their years (sounds patronising but damn is it true). The amount of times I heard from so many young people over the weekend "I don't believe my type of cancer makes me worthy of being here" or "I didn't have to have any chemotherapy so I'm not sure how I fit in" was ridiculous. However, each of these statements was met with the same compassion and realisation that every cancer experience is different and that makes them incomparable to each other. Therefore everyone was welcomed and was made to feel like they could share and be a part of something so much bigger than individuals.

For me, the Teenage Cancer Trust's weekend not only provided a bit of positive respite from having to pretend everyday that I'm always okay, but it also allowed me to make some really brilliant new friends who know how rubbish cancer can be and I feel I can relate to.

Find Your Sense of Tumour brings together people from all across the country and yet no matter where they are from, the one thing that they all have in common isn't just cancer, it's a deep understanding and camaraderie that comes naturally to teenagers who are all in the same boat but are all striving to make the best of a really rough situation.

Dr. Dilys - Going Beyond The Expected

Last time I wrote on here, I thanked the doctors and staff at Gloucester Royal Hospital for coming to support me at my play. However, today I want to be really specific in who deserves the biggest thanks of all.

Dr. Dilys O'Neale is without doubt one of the biggest personalities I've come across as a consequence of my diagnosis. She was there on day one on the 10th of October 2012 and on the 31st of October 2014, she retired from her position at Gloucester Royal and without doubt will be incredibly missed. She influenced me hugely in my approach to treatment, always greeting me with a sly dig and a smile. Dilys understood that it was truly rubbish for me to be in hospital, feeling awful due to chemotherapy and so she would make light of it, which for me, was the perfect response I needed to my complaining. She'd always buy strange plasters and give me stickers after treatment and we'd often laugh at the latest Russell Howard's Good News while she pushed the bleak yellow fluid into the back of my hand, but also, to the back of my mind.

Dilys honestly made hospital a better place to be and therefore, made my life a whole lot better in the process. She'd always (admittedly sometimes a few weeks late) produce reams of charts and graphs to placate my worrying mum and I was always happy with my Disney Princess plasters. I feel like I'm maybe not saying "thank you" as seriously as I should, but I feel like that was exactly what Dilys was like as a person so I don't feel too guilty.

However, Dilys, if you are reading this, then please know that you've had a lasting impact on mine, as well as my family's life, we owe you big time, so thank you! I don't want to say it's all been a barrel of laughs because, well, you know, cancer played a pretty major part in our meeting, but through circumstances neither of us could help, you helped make a bearable situation out of a pretty bad one.

Good luck in everything you choose to do next - Whiny Will x

I realise that I have been very lucky to have had such a friendly face around me for two years at hospital, it must be a really tough job to look after grumpy little b*st*rds like me. I think that it can be easy to forget just how much work all the doctors and nurses do for all patients and so it's always good to remind them how appreciated they are.