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Chemo Diaries, Milton Keynes (2026)

02/09/2026

If you’re going through chemo right now, this is for you. ❤️

And maybe, in a way, it’s for me too.

Because I’m about to step back into that world again.

The hospital appointments. The cannulas and drips. The blood tests. The sickness. The exhaustion that sleep somehow doesn’t fix. The days where simply getting yourself out of bed feels like you’ve already used every bit of energy you had.

I remember those days so clearly.

I remember wondering how I was supposed to keep doing it. How I was supposed to willingly walk back into hospital knowing that the thing being given to help me was also going to make me feel absolutely bloody awful.

I remember the nausea. The aches. The mouth ulcers. The weakness. Food tasting wrong. My body feeling like it didn’t belong to me anymore.

And I remember thinking, is this just my life now?

But it wasn’t.

Those days passed.

There were eventually mornings where I woke up and didn’t immediately feel poorly. Food started tasting like food again. I laughed properly. I went places. I made memories with my family. Slowly, little pieces of me started coming back.

And now, ridiculously, I’m preparing to do it all over again.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t scared. I know what chemo can take out of me because I’ve lived it before.

But I also know something now that I didn’t know the first time:

I have come out the other side of those horrible days before.

And when the next few months get difficult, I’m going to try to remember that.

So if you’re currently lying in bed feeling sick, exhausted, emotional, angry, fed up or wondering how the hell you’re supposed to get through another cycle — you don’t need to think about the whole journey today.

Just today.

Sometimes just the next hour.

You don’t have to be inspirational.
You don’t have to find a positive in everything.
You don’t have to pretend you’re okay because somebody tells you to “stay strong.”

Some days, getting through the day is enough.

And please tell your oncology team when you’re struggling. You don’t get a medal for suffering quietly. There are anti-sickness medications, pain relief, mouth care, fluids, electrolyte replacements and so many other things they can do to make treatment more manageable.

Use your chemo helpline. Tell your nurses. Ask for help. ❤️

Cancer treatment can make your world incredibly small for a while.

But that little chemo bubble isn’t necessarily forever.

There can still be holidays. Birthdays. School runs. Lazy Sundays. Laughing until your stomach hurts. Random trips out. Ordinary boring Tuesdays that suddenly feel like the greatest gift in the world.

There is life outside of those hospital walls.

I’ve found it before.

And now I’m going to fight my way back to it again. ❤️

04/08/2026

A little update from me…

Unfortunately, the rounds of chemotherapy I’ve had haven’t been as successful as we’d hoped. We were really hoping to see a much bigger reduction in the tumours. While some have shrunk, some have stayed stable, and sadly, some have grown.

That left us with a decision about what comes next, and the plan is more chemotherapy. This time it’s a much more intensive regimen: treatment every day for five days, repeated every 21 days. It means more days feeling unwell, more sickness, and less precious time with my boys, which is by far the hardest part.

I’m hoping this treatment gives me the same stability it did last time. 🤞🏻 My biggest worry is whether my body can cope with it, but I promise I’ll keep fighting with everything I have. One day at a time. ❤️

18/07/2026

Sorry I’ve been a little quiet recently. We’ve been navigating my youngest son being unwell, getting through the last week of school, juggling work, and getting everything ready for what I’m hoping will be a fun-packed summer holiday. ☀️

I’m also approaching my final chemotherapy cycle on 30th July. I’m hoping and praying this treatment has done exactly what it needs to do so I can have a break from chemotherapy for a while. The next treatment option available to me is likely to mean hospital admissions and less time at home with my family, so I’m really holding onto hope that this one has done its job. 🤞💙

I hope you’re all doing okay. And to all the parents… are you ready for six wonderful weeks of entertaining the kids? 😂

I used to joke and moan about the school holidays, but cancer has completely changed my perspective. These days I just feel incredibly grateful and lucky that I get to spend that extra time making memories with my boys. ❤️

And even better… I can drive this year! 🚗 That opens up so many more adventures, little road trips, and days out together. I can’t wait to make the most of every moment.

15/07/2026

The side of cancer nobody prepares you for…

People talk about the hair loss.

They talk about the sickness, the chemotherapy, the scans, the appointments.

But not many people talk about what cancer does to your mind.

Stage 4 cancer has changed me in ways I never expected. Some days I don’t recognise the person I am anymore.

I worry constantly. Every new ache, every headache, every pain makes my mind race. Is it the chemo? Is it the cancer? Has it spread? It’s exhausting living in a body where every symptom feels like a question you don’t know the answer to.

Chemotherapy doesn’t just drain your body—it drains your emotions too. Some days I’m irritable for no reason. Some days I cry over the smallest things. Other days I just feel… flat. Like I’m existing rather than living.

Then comes the guilt.

Guilt that I can’t always be the mum I want to be. Guilt that Sean has to watch me go through this. Guilt when I cancel plans because I’m simply too exhausted. Guilt when people tell me I’m “so strong” because, truthfully, most days I don’t feel strong at all.

And something I don’t think people talk about enough…

The guilt of friendship.

I still want to be a good friend. I still care about the people I love. But there are days when replying to a message feels overwhelming. Days where I read a text and think, I’ll answer later, only to realise days have gone by. It’s never because I don’t care. Sometimes my mind is so full of appointments, medications, fears and simply trying to get through the day that I don’t have much left to give.

Cancer can make you feel like you’re letting people down, even when you’re trying your absolute best.

I feel scared.

Scared of the future.

Scared of what my next scan might show.

Scared of not knowing how much time I have.

And yet, somehow, I still get up. I still go to chemotherapy. I still laugh. I still make memories with my boys. I still plan camping trips, dream about holidays, and look forward to the little moments because those moments matter more now than they ever have.

Cancer has taught me that strength isn’t about never breaking down.

Strength is crying in the shower and still showing up to treatment.

Strength is smiling for your children when your heart feels heavy.

Strength is admitting you’re not okay.

And sometimes, strength is trusting that the people who truly love you will understand when you disappear for a little while, not because you’ve stopped caring, but because you’re putting every bit of energy you have into surviving.

If you’re reading this and you’re going through cancer too, please know this…

You don’t have to be positive every single day.

You don’t have to pretend you’re coping.

You don’t have to feel guilty for protecting your energy.

You are allowed to be terrified, angry, exhausted and hopeful all at the same time.

That’s what surviving looks like.

And if today all you managed to do was get through the day…

I’m proud of you.

Because I know just how much courage that can take. 🤍

05/07/2026

Being diagnosed with stage 4 cancer is not what people think it is.

There is no dramatic music.
No movie moment where everything slows down and makes sense.

It’s just… you.
Sitting in a room.
Hearing words you never wanted attached to your name.

Stage 4.

And the weirdest part is… the world keeps moving like nothing happened.

But your life just stopped and restarted in a completely different direction.

You don’t cry right away like people expect.

Most of the time you just sit there thinking, “Did they say me? Are they sure?”

Because how do you go from “normal life” to “life-threatening illness” in a sentence?

After that, everything changes… but not all at once.

It’s slow.

It’s phone calls you don’t want to answer.
It’s appointments stacked on top of appointments.
It’s waiting rooms that start to feel like your second home.
It’s learning how to be strong when you don’t feel strong at all.

And the hardest truth?

You still look like you.

So people expect you to be fine.

But you’re not fine, you’re just learning how to survive something that doesn’t feel real most days.

Stage 4 cancer doesn’t just attack your body.

It attacks your peace.
Your future plans.
Your sleep.
Your identity.

And you start living in two worlds at once:

The world where everyone thinks you’re “doing okay”…
and the world where you know how serious this really is.

But even in all of that…

You still wake up.
You still show up.
You still fight.

Not because you’re not scared.

But because you are.

And you refuse to let it be the end of your story.

If you know this life… you’re not alone. 🩵

22/05/2026

Apologies for being so so quiet recently! I’ve just had a Port a Cath put in to make treatment easier! As you can see from the bruise, trying to put a cannula in has become as an issue! This will make taking bloods/giving chemo treatment soooo much easier! 😁

Now I’m just healing, I’m in a bit of pain but other than that doing well 💞

14/05/2026

What Cancer do i have?

Primitive Neuroectodermal Tumour (PNET) of the o***y is an extremely rare and aggressive cancer that starts from immature cells that resemble early nerve cells. These tumours are usually found in the brain or bones, so finding one in the ovaries is very unusual. Because it’s so rare, there is limited research and many people, even medically have never heard of it before diagnosis.

Because so few people are diagnosed with it, there is still limited research, no single standard treatment plan, and much of what doctors know comes from individual case reports rather than large studies.

One reason it is so rare is because the ovaries do not normally contain much tissue related to the nervous system. Scientists believe these tumours may develop from:

* very early embryonic-type cells left behind during development, or
* cells inside certain ovarian tumours (such as teratomas) that unexpectedly transform into primitive nerve-like cancer cells.

Doctors often describe ovarian PNET as:

* Fast-growing
* High-grade/aggressive
* Difficult to diagnose because it can look similar to other ovarian cancers
* So rare that there are very few documented cases worldwide

13/05/2026

A bit of a vulnerable one from me.🫶🏼

07/05/2026

Long long day having chemo, but we’ve completed cycle 2! 😁

Sending love to anyone who’s going through Cancer or know someone
else going through this journey. 🫶🏼

04/05/2026

Let’s be real about chemotherapy… because I wish someone had been this honest with me.

Everyone talks about hair loss. But chemo is so much more than that.

Some days, you’ll feel almost normal… and other days, it hits you like a brick. The tiredness isn’t just “a bit tired” it’s the kind where your body feels heavy, like even getting up is a task.

Let’s talk about the stuff people don’t always say out loud…

Your stomach and toilet habits? All over the place. One minute you can’t go, the next you really can. Cramps, discomfort, weird digestion it’s unpredictable and honestly just annoying.

Your nails can change too. They might become weak, sore, discoloured, or feel like they’re lifting. It sounds small, but it’s another reminder your body is going through something big.

Your mouth can get sore. Food might taste completely different, things you loved suddenly taste off, metallic, or just not right at all.

Then there’s your mood… and this one’s big. The ups and downs are real. One minute you’re strong and positive, the next you’re overwhelmed, emotional, or just not yourself. And that’s not weakness, that’s everything your body and mind are processing.

Steroids can make you feel constantly hungry, restless, or wired. Sleep can be off. Emotions can feel louder.

And the weirdest part? You might have days where you feel okay… and then question everything, like “is it even working?” but feeling okay doesn’t mean it’s not doing its job.

Chemo is not one straight line. It’s a rollercoaster of good days, hard days, and everything in between.

If you’re going through it, you’re not alone in any of this. Every strange symptom, every emotional swing, every “what is happening to my body” moment… someone else has felt it too.

And if you’re supporting someone through chemo ,just know, there’s so much going on beneath the surface.

Be kind to yourself. Take the good days when they come. And on the hard days, just getting through is more than enough 🤍

Chemo Diaries

02/09/2026

04/08/2026

18/07/2026

15/07/2026

05/07/2026

22/05/2026

14/05/2026

13/05/2026

07/05/2026

04/05/2026

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