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London to Cork by bicycle!

So another quick update – I appreciate that these are few and far between these days, but I wanted to let you know about another little project of mine.

Along with a small band of other fools that I have tricked with promises of fine pints of Murphy’s, I am cycling from London to Cork in a couple of weeks. “What on Earth for?” I hear you cry. Well, since Sarah did so much to bring the people of these two great cities together it seemed fitting to continue to share the love and pedal between them.  We are doing this in Sarah’s memory and also to raise bucket loads of cash for Leukaemia & Lymphoma Research – a very worthy charity to support.

To find out more and to sponsor the team – please visit our website.

Please give generously to this very important cause!
Thanks for supporting us.

The Irish Examiner has done a lovely feature on the book. The piece is now up on the Irish Examiner website

Many thanks to Sue O’Connor for getting in touch and writing this article. I am very keen to promote the book in any way I can so we can get the book into the hands of the kids that will benefit from reading the story. This level of coverage helps massively in raising awareness.

Sarah, The Author

Many of you will be surprised to see the site updated and I hope I haven’t caused any alarm but I bring good tidings!

Jack's Radio Mission

Front Cover of Jack's Radio Mission

I (Robin, Sarah’s partner) am writing to tell you of the wonderful news that Sarah is a published author. Those of you that have read her blog over the past couple of  years will not be surprised at her talent. Last summer Sarah decided to write about her experience with radiotherapy and came upon the idea of a book for kids who were going through the same horrible treatment and so was born the concept of ’Cancer is Rubbish’. Sarah’s good friend (and mine) Katie created ‘rubbish’ artworks for the book out of recycled materials.

Knowing how scary it can seem, Sarah decided to write a story that might help and reassure children who find themselves going through radiotherapy. Jack is a little boy going through radiotherapy treatment. Lucy the radiographer helps him to not be scared and to think of it as a great space adventure!

Another great thing about this is that all profits from this book will go towards Leukaemia & Lymphoma Research which help to find treatments for all the terrible blood cancers out there.

So – what are you still reading this for? Get yourself over to http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/figgs and order a copy or two today.

You’ll also be able to find out more information as we work on promoting the book via the facebook page. Please do pass this on to anyone that might be interested. I am keen to get copies into the Children’s Cancer wards around the country and have a number of copies that I will gladly donate. If any of you  feel that you could help with achieving this, then please get in touch either via this site or the facebook page.

Thank you all for your support. Today is a good day!

Arrangements

I’d like to formally notify everyone of the arrangements for Sarah’s funeral in Cork. All are welcome to attend if possible:

Removal Monday at 6:30pm from O’Connors funeral home, Sarsfield’s Road Wilton to The Church of Real Presence Curraheen. Requiem mass on Tuesday at 1:00pm followed by a burial at St. Oliver’s Cemetery Carrigrohane. No flowers please. Donations if desired, to Leukaemia & Lymphoma Research.

Sunset

Sunset, the end of the day. The end of a long and difficult journey. A time to hang up those boxing gloves; the fight was long and brutal but fought bravely and with great courage.

Cancer – you won this one

You have taken a daughter, a sister and the very best friend anyone could every ask for and I hate you for that.

But strangely, in what you have taken away, you have given another precious thing. A network of unbreakable bonds of love and understanding and a vow to remember to ask “What would Sarah do?” whenever we need her. I won’t say thanks for this gift as it is a poor substitute for what we have all lost, but I’ll take it all the same.

What’s going on?

Saturday night and I’m still locked away in hotel hospital.

I’m very unhappy about this situation. I should be watching my mate Orla play at the Royal Court. All my other Irish mates are there. Why am I still here?

Thats a good question.

I was feeling better then temps came back, my cough gets worse and I am suddenly vomiting again. It’s been a week of ups and downs, transfusions, arm butchery and general unwellness.

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That’s what I mean by butchery. That’s what happens when you lose a hickman line and have weak veins.

I’ve been too tired to blog even. Not good.

Things had better start a changing or I’m starting a dirty protest.

Relative Times

I feel like I’ve just woken up from a deep coma.

I had chemo on Thursday and I think that floored me quite a bit. Ive just slept since friday.

The chest infection is calming and I am now more mobile without various tubes and IV attachments, which is all good.

Hopefully, I’ll be out by Wednesday….well, i’d definitely better be out by Friday because I need to see my best mate’s play at the weekend.

I have a tv and my kindle but – when I’m nnot asleep – I find myself mostly watching people dying.

That’s kind of weird but you can’t avoid it in here.

It’s more the family I find interesting as they are emotional and awkward and don’t know what to do.

A Jamaican elderly woman arrived yesterday, who don’t look so hot. The family have arrived on mass and they all stand around bumping into each other. The men lurk in the hall way, the women fuss around kissing and hugging the sick woman, propping her this way and that, and they kids hide in the corner with tears in their eyes.

None of this is pleasant. They don’t know if they’ll see their mum/sister/gran in the morning, so they all just stare at her.

Waiting and watching a loved one die must be one of the hardest things to do. Not as hard as dying, but similar. Relatives feel helpless and want it to happen quickly to avoid suffering but also want to prolong things.

There is no correct way to behave. If you wanted to strip naked and run madly through the hospital, then no one would mind.

Last week, the woman next to me took a turn and moved to a side room. I met her son the next day and he was a broken man. He said: “she’s only in her seventies but this cancer came quick. I don’t understand it”

The deep clean team were in cleaning the side room the next day. All trace of her hospital life removed by two men in suits. I guess her son still doesn’t understand.

So today, I salute the families of the sick; the ones who smile and cry and kiss and comfort and wait and hope but really just don’t understand.

One long day

Not sure what day it is as the last few days have rolled into one long continuous day.

I’ve been bed bound since I came in and all I do is sleep, cough, get hot&sweaty, take drugs and sleep some more.
The Different nurses faces that appear at my bed indicate the transition from day to night.

But really nothing changes and it’s just one long sticky day in Hotel Hospital. I’m getting very bored and just want out.

I’m getting better but very slowly. These infections really knock the stuffing out of me.

The other ladies on the ward are sleepy birds too, so it is a fairly non-rock n’ roll Kind of ward.

Anyway, this long continuous day can’t last forever and soon normality will reign again a nd I can leave this mad house.

Lazy Frog

It’s been a snoozy Saturday.

I had another fever this morning which tends to whack me out. Overall, the temps have been calming down and my nasty chest infection is more under control.

Just for some reason I seem to spike every night at about 5am. Don’t know why.

But the good news is that my heart rate is coming down and not as much of a worry.

The bad news is that Ireland and England are out of the Rugby World Cup.

But, as it is the weekend, I think we should all take some advice from a wise frog.

I know it worked for me today.

(however the English may find it hard to take advice from frogs right now)

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Message to Cancer

(wrote this last night but then my battery died during upload so here it is now – pretending it’s Thursday when it’s not)

Nothing much to say today except Fuck You Cancer!

You made Steve Jobs suffer for years with his pancreatic cancer and then finally robbed the world of one of the greatest innovators and contributors in technology advancement.

He was a visionary and too young to die. Why?

But you don’t care Cancer, do you?

What about Mike Woodall? A grandfather, father and husband. A healthy living man with lots of life and spirit. You didn’t even give him a chance to fight and let him die today one month after his diagnosis.

He was a well loved family man and too young to die. Why?

But you don’t care Cancer, do you?

And what about me? I used to be fit and healthy, have plans and potential. But You’ve been slapping and punching me about for a year and a half and now I’m only clutching on with broken fingernails. I know you won’t stop coming.

I’m too young to die, there’s too much to do and see. Why?

But you don’t care Cancer, do you?

You dont get answers to the question Why?

Cancer is growing and recruiting more unusual types like mine.

Its more research that is required to answer the why question.

Research needs funding; funding needs donors.

If only there was a mega communications Corp that just lost their founder to cancer??!!!!

Come on Apple cough up and help Cancer Research find solutions.

So until I know why, I say Fuck You!

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