Dream a little dream…

I’ve been toying writing this blog because I am worried it is going to make me sounds like a complete lunatic.

But fuck it, because if I don’t get this out into the universe then how earth can I act on it.

Eight months ago I had a dream. It was one of those vivid dreams that felt like it was real, so real that you felt everything that was in it.

There was nothing significant about the dream, but it had a beginning and a middle but no end.

It featured people who I didn’t know, but they seemed familiar to me. It was as though I was watching a scene from my favourite film or viewing a chapter from my favourite book.

I woke up the next morning and went to work and wrote down everything that was in the dream.
Then I wrote a bit more.
And a bit more. Then I re-wrote it.

I now have a start to a story. Yea, I guess you could say I am writing a story.

Even Pete doesn’t know I have been doing this…I’m so nervous about putting myself out there.

I love, LOVE writing. I really want to go somewhere with this. I love writing on my blog. Writing about my Cancer and the whole experience has given me a new confidence and attitude to show people what I can do. I think this could really be the start of my second chance

I think I have to experiment more with my blog before putting my fiction out there for the world to criticise. I’ve asked people to ask me questions this week, mainly as a test to see if people actually want to read my writing and not just because I have Cancer. It’s been a really positive response.

I’ve been talking to people this week about setting up my little blog more professionally and I am even considering attending Cybher to educate myself more…If I can find the money for the ticket that is.

But there you go…am I mad to act on something I dreamt.

Could I really go somewhere with this?

Seriously?

…And Many More…

This is pretty much my life right now….

Tea? Check. Mac? Check. Cape? Check

Tea? Check. Mac? Check. Cape? Check

The lovely @luckylauraQ asked me:

I didn’t know you pre-fuckwit, but I wondered how it changed your body image? Do you see your body as having a different function now & do you feel differently towards it?

Good question Laura. I shall answer it through my birthday letter to me…

Dear Frannie,

Today you turn 29. At 21.05 tonight, you will officially be in your last year of your twenties.

When you look back on what you wanted to accomplish by this age you’ve done pretty much everything you set out. You wanted to be married to a lovely man, you wanted a baby, you wanted to be successful in your career.

Two out of three aint bad…you’re working on the last one now.

6 months ago, this date was filling you with dread. You were in a job that just about paid the bills, with an apprehension over you about some health concerns, the last thing you wanted to think about was your birthday and *gulp* getting older.

But 3 small months ago you were delivered news that at that moment in time questioned whether you would even reach your 30th birthday.

Sudden that little number didn’t seem so scary.

It actually became a goal to reach.

All your life you have tormented yourself about your body.
You’ve ranged from size 6 as a teenager to at your biggest, a size 14.
You are now a comfortable size 12.

I can’t believe it took being told you had Cancer to make you realise that actually, your body is awesome. It defied odds and carried a baby to term, it dealt with horrendous pain and turmoil every month.

And now?

Well now, its beating Cancer. It’s taking control over something which is imposing. The stupid fuckwit.
You lost 22 pounds in a very short time and admitedly, you wouldn’t wanted to have lost it in this way, but it’s given you the boost you needed to accept the new shape you have.

Proud of the pooch

Proud of the pooch

You have a little tummy pooch, which will probably always be there.
A reminder of the trauma it went through to make sure you see your 30th birthday, but more importantly the roundness to prove you did in fact carry a baby.
If the toddler playing on your Mac wasn’t enough proof already…

Mama? Issa mac, yea?

Mama? Issa mac, yea?

But I am proud of you. You have given up your hang ups with your body.
As your blog proves, you are not ashamed to explore your body and the problems you have had. Being more aware of your body made you realise there was a problem in the first place.

Well done for listening to it.

Today you turned 29. You’ve got a few more wrinkles round the eyes. You have a constant ringing in your ears from the chemo nerve damage and your left hand still gets pins and needles from the sheer volume of canulas and needle pricks.

But you’d take it all again if it meant you got to see your 30th birthday.

I hope you can see all the love out there for you. People from all around the world have been reading your blog, spurring you on, keeping an eye on you.

Remember this in the times when it gets hard to bear.
You might not have any more children, you will go through the menopause and you might have a few more stumbling blocks to go through with your cancer journey, but there is someone out there, who is rooting for you.
And it’s not just the lovely Man on the sofa with you.

Today you turned 29. You have realised that you are an individual person, with your own opinions and views and you are now not afraid to express them.
You are sharing your writing, which is in itself a massive V-flick to Cancer.
Cancer likes the quiet and dark. You are bringing it out of its comfort zone showing it up for the coward it is.

Cancer is the coward. Not you.

Today you turned 29. Next year you will be 30. Lets show everyone how many more birthday’s you are going to celebrate.

Happy Birthday Frannie. And I wish you many, many more.

Never stop laughing like this. Ever.

Never stop laughing like this. Ever.