Cancer and other stuff

Fairy godmothers

A week or so ago I got an email that I initially thought was one of those awful spam things, the ones that start ‘Francesca, you could have/do…’ and then proceed to try and sell you something you don’t want or need and you wonder how you’ve ended up on this tedious distribution list. So I was about to hit delete, then looked closer and it was from an address called “Fran’s fun times”. It went on to describe how some people have just one fairy godmother in their life, if they are lucky, whereas I in fact have 12. The email explained that over the coming weeks I could expect some little surprises to make my life more fun but that the 12 fairy godmothers would be starting big, and in my grubby little hands would soon be a sparkly new iPad. True to their word, the godmothers delivered and I am currently typing this on aforementioned iPad (tip, get one – it’s BRILLIANT).

It’s always a bit weird when people give you presents when you’re ill and I remember ending up feeling a bit exasperated when I was first diagnosed in 2009 by the amount of flowers that kept being delivered. That sounds awful doesn’t it? What an ungrateful cow. But I don’t mean it like that, just that getting treats and presents makes you realise that something is wrong as life is just not like that for ‘normal’ people.

Having spoken to some of the godmothers I now realise that this is not about presents, it’s their way of helping in some real, tangible way. They desperately want to do something, anything, and sadly they can’t do the one thing we all want. I often think how I would cope seeing one of my best friends going through something like this and not being able to do anything to change it, and I think I can imagine what it must be like for them. Awful, just awful. Poor them. So they come together, they plot and scheme and they buy me a ridiculously trivial new toy. Just because they can. And it doesn’t change the outcome, it doesn’t stop the hurt or the aggro or the despair or the worry. But it does make me smile and feel loved and special and appreciated and valued, and they know this. And that’s worth 10 iPads. Gold-plated ones even. It’s the thought of them all coming together on email and mobilising in the way that only they can in their wonderful way. Some of them have never met but I know having spoken to them that the whole secret squirrels thing has been as exciting and fun to organise as it has been for me to sit back and receive. So next time I’m at home feeling like death from chemo or feeling my hair come out in the shower (yep it’s started already – luckily I got it chopped this week so I haven’t got to go through the horror of watching big long chunks come out) or in that plastic chair waiting for a scan result or hooked up to a drip, all I have to remember is the 12 fairy godmothers and how they will do anything or be anywhere when I need them and all is a little bit better.

So cheers Anna, Bek, Beth, Heather, Helen, Jeena, Katie H, Katie I, Laura, Lisa E, Lisa S, Liz – I hope Santa brings you everything you want and deserve, and that 2012 brings us ALL lots of love, light and laughter. You are all very special to me xxx

Sent from my iPad 🙂


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