Friday, May 9, 2014

FFS Friday - Cancer Can Bite Me

  • I've been meaning to write a FFS Friday every week since my last one. FFS.
  • I remember at about 12pm (children need food and attention) and 6pm (dinnertime, children need food and attention) and then as I'm climbing in to bed at 10pm (too late, whatever, next week) FFS.
  • I will never be a professional blogger. FFS.
  • Before I continue on my interesting, worthy story plot ranting let me tell you about cancer and how it's touched my life.
  • The biggest one? My dad died from metastatic melanoma in 2007. FFS.
  • Mr S has had two BCCs on his face. FFS.
  • Mr and Mrs S Snr have had various BCCs removed. FFS.
  • My paternal grandmother, Norma, has had breast cancer and mastectomies. FFS.
  • My friend Marija has beaten breast cancer (NO FFS) and is about to become a mother (ABSOLUTELY NO FFS IT IS AWESOME).
  • Friends of friends have cancer.
  • I have just had a mole removed from my back that looked suspicious enough for me to tell me GP, and suspicious enough for her to remove it. FFS.
  • It stings like a bitch. FFS.

Cancer, you can bite me. By the time my children grow up, I want cancer to be in the same sentence as polio, smallbox, rubella and measles. You know, ailments we used to get.

I started running seriously at the beginning of this year. I run for my mental health, I run for cake, I run for wine, I run to get away from my children and I run because I love the feeling of my feet taking me wherever I want, and the promise of there perhaps being a coffee at the end of that run.

This is my BRFAARBF (Best Running Friend And All Round Best Friend) and I after we finished our first race together, the Mona GASP run.
Best. Fun. Ever.

This Sunday is Mother's Day. Instead of a sleep in (HA) and breakfast in bed (HA) we will be sweating, red faced (Louise) and swearing (me) whilst making up new song lyrics about running to popular songs (me, Louise wants no part in that). We'll be running the 8km course of the Hobart Mother's Day Classic. I've set up a little fundraising page and I would appreciate it dearly if you could head over there and kick in a few dollars. Every dollar counts and every dollar means that we could be one step closer to making cancer a preventable illness.

I've helpfully linked all the 'FFS' tags to take you to my fundraising page, just to make it easier for you.

So, let me enlighten you with some of my running FFS, just to keep you amused before you click over to the fundraising page and help me spread the word!

  • I have barely been running for the last two weeks due to horrifically painful shin splints. FFS.
  • My chiropractor, who is also an ultra distance trail runner suggested I not run at all for a fortnight, ice, stretch, foam roll, see a sports physio and get a bone scan for stress fractures. FFS.
  • My GP, who is also a runner, said the same thing. FFS.
  • I lasted 7 days without running before I wanted to stab everyone within a 5 metre radius of me. FFS.
  • The girls have been helping with my ice routine by taking the frozen peas out of the zip lock bag to eat them. FFS.
  • They won't eat cooked peas. FFS.
  • I trod on a soft squashed pea the next day. FFS.
  • On carpet. FFS.
  • The mole I've had removed is stitched up nicely. My Doctor had removed it and was chatting away merrily to me when I saw the needle and stitch thread. 'WHAT ARE YOU DOING?'
    'Putting stitches in. What do you mean?'
    'You have a GIANT hole in your back. You need stitches.'
    'Ok, it's not that big I suppose. It's only 5mm, but it still needs stitches.'
    '5MM OH MY GOD.'
    At which point I buried my head in the pillow and thought about coffee. FFS.
  • It itches. FFS.
  • I have to go back in 10 days and have the stitches taken out. FFS.
  • If it's anything like having my C-Sec stitches taken out (I'm sure it won't be... right?) I want a full general anaesthetic. FFS.
  • I am being a total girl about this, especially in the light of people having mastectomies and having loads more stitches... FFS.
  • I'm quietly terrified it's cancerous. FFS.
  • Before I went to the Dr yesterday I went for a 2.5km run to clear my head. NO FFS.
  • It was awesome. My shins ached for less than 5 mins and then I was flying again. NO FFS.
  • I looked super cool stopping in at the shops, buying milk for Mr S and then delivering it to him on foot, running through the fog holding 2L of milk. It was very very cold. FFS.
  • I need running gloves. Suggestions? 

So, despite my shins, despite the hole in my back, I will be running 8km on Sunday with my BRFAARBF, and my two gorgeous girls and Mr S waiting at the finish line. Then I will hug them and be so grateful that despite my whining and runjuries, I get to run. That's the amazing part. I. Get. To. Run.

Please give what you can and tell your friends.

Here's my official blurb....
I am participating in the Mother's Day Classic and raising funds for breast cancer research. Every extra dollar I raise through fundraising goes towards vital research into the prevention and cure of breast cancer. Along with thousands of Australians nationwide, I will be making a difference on Mother's Day and taking steps to save lives by helping fund breast cancer research. It is through research that we will find a cure. Help out, every dollar can help. Cancer sucks. 

I'd love to see that my children will only know of cancer the way that my generation knows of polio, rubella, smallpox and measles. You can also think of me sweating and swearing it out around the course whilst you're tucked up in your nice warm beds... unless you're there shouting at me to KEEP ON RUNNING WITH YOUR ROBOT LEGS and enticing me with ice cream at the finish line.


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