I spent 2 and a half long, daunting weeks at the University
College London Hospital where I would start my chemotherapy. If im honest my
hospital experience is quite a blur, its as if my brain doesn't want me to
remember that part of my life.
What I do remember is that I was in a private room and I just
kept to myself. Honestly, I was selfish. I didnt want to get involved with any
sick people, which now makes me feel like a total bitch. I hardly left my room
and slept the days away. I cant even remember my Christmas day that well, my
favourite time of year. I was lucky enough to have a good solid unit around me
full of friends, family and my boyfriend that came to visit me to keep me half
sane. My mum didnt leave my side the whole time and slept in the bed next to
me. I bet she was missing her bed at home just as much as me.
Not only did I spend the Christmas period in hospital, but I
went into 2015, in hospital. But to me, that didnt even matter anymore, I was
with the most important people in my life.
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