Little pricks

Having been inspired by Alice Pyne (see previous blogs here and here) I signed up to the bone marrow registry a week ago. The requirement for my age group required that I do it via the blood donation route. No problem, this is something which has sat on my to do list for many, many years, particularly when I discovered whilst pregnant with my 7 year old that I was “special”. It seems my blood is quite rare (like the rest of me I hear you cry) and it can be used on any blood patient regardless of blood type; ideal in an emergency before "cross match" has happened.

 

My blood donation appointment arrived a couple of days ago; it appears the vampires were due to visit our local town today and so I agreed to a hot date with a needle. So off I went with a spring in my step ready to do my thing smiling inanely at the receptionist... only to be told I had already registered 5 years ago at an old address but never turned up. At this point my face reddened and I felt the need to give the most over embellished story to justify my actions. To be honest some feeble excuse such as the dog ate my registration letter would have actually been more believable.

 

Whilst waiting for the nurse to call me I sat people watching (ie being nosey) and checking out the competition other donors. What surprised me most was that I was one of the youngest, and believe me that happens less and less these days. I would estimate the average age must have been fifty something whereas I had been expecting the room to be full of other harassed working parents doing their bit. But if I am a classic example of my age group maybe that explains the empty seats and missed appointments. Darn dogs eating those registration letters!

Anyway I was called after only a few minutes and given a form to read about how to keep blood pressure high during the extraction process (squeezing your butt checks and then relaxing them) I swear at this point the old chap next to me gave me a wink as he clenched his rear! Next thing I am hearing the immortal words "little prick" and my middle finger was attacked and squeezed in order to test my iron levels. A couple of "hmmms" later and another middle finger prick. Another "hmmm" was followed by the nurse informing me that she would need to take another blood sample, this time from my arm, in order to establish a more accurate reading of my iron levels. In short, normal, non-anaemic blood has a minimum iron reading of 115. In order to donate blood the exact reading must be 125 or more. In simple terms it appears that this allows for 10 units to be removed and not compromise the existing iron supplies of the donor by taking them below normal levels.

1 minute later I had a plaster on and was offered a cuppa tea. REJECTED! My reading was close by not close enough: 124! I have rebooked for three months’ time and have been given instructions to eat lots of dark chocolate and drink red wine... apparently both are good for increasing iron. Silver linings and all that!

 

A day of reflection

I awoke this morning raring to go. Having already completed 16 miles in the last few days and with the prospect of my first "Kenyan Hills" session today I was feeling positive, on track and ready. My marathon ambitions are slowly becoming a reality and, whilst I fully expect a set back at some point, I am taking the good while it lasts.

So during my Kenyan Hills training session (sprinting up killer hills, resting for 90secs, jog back down and repeat = knackering) I was thinking about today's post. I was going to write some flippant prose of how the Western world seeks "Kenyan Hills" (in rural Oxfordshire... seriously they are nothing close to terrain of Kenyan Hills) to build stamina whereas those who live in the Kenyan Hills cope with the steep terrain day in and day out, not through choice, not for vanity and marathon training, but as part of their hard and gruelling daily lives. And then I checked my Facebook page and my mood evaporated.

"Our darling girl, Alice, gained her angel wings today. She passed away peacefully with Simon, Milly and myself by her side. We are devastated and know that our lives will never again be the same.

#NightNightAlice

Vicky 12 January 2013"

For those of you who read my Sober Up post this will mean something to you (if not I really recommend you do - click here). Alice was a 17 year old girl who had terminal cancer having been diagnosed at the tender age of 12. I only discovered her a few days ago through my pledge to raise 1,000,000 pence for cancer charities, but in those few short days, reading her posts was an inspiration and she has become a daily feature in my online social world. A friend if you will. I can't even begin contemplate her family's loss in comparison to my own but suffice to say I will miss Alice. The poignancy of this amazing woman being robbed of her young life from Hodgkin’s lymphoma (a form of cancer) only spurs me forward with even more determination and gusto. Whilst £10K is nothing compared to the huge sums some people raise it all counts towards finding a cure and potentially stopping another inspirational 17 year old being robbed of their life too early.

But the million dollar question is did I support her cause and sign up to join the bone marrow register. I am ashamed to admit that despite the blog and my plea for others to sign up that, in fact, life got in the way and it became another thing on my ever increasing "to do" list. Sadly Alice's life has stopped but her "bucket list" was thankfully complete, thanks to strangers making it happen today, not tomorrow when it might be too late. And so I have now signed up. Due to my age I have to go via blood donation but this was something else on my "to do" list so two birds and all that.

Can I now please urge you to all consider giving a little; be it bone marrow ( Anthony Nolan register here or the British Bone Marrow Registry here). or pence (click here to donate). Do what you can and together as indivduals we will conquer the challenge ahead.

Sober up

My ponderings during my 9 mile run today were inspired by an amazing young lady called Alice Pyne. I stumbled across her through setting up this Blog and searching for other Blogs with similar tags, sadly our matches were cancer and charity so you might well see where this is going.

In short Alice is a 17 year old girl who has terminal cancer (she lists her occupation as “full time cancer fighter”), having first been diagnosed at the tender age of 12. But instead of wallowing, at the age of 15 she set up a Blog as a way to communicate with her friends and to share her bucket list; things she wanted to achieve before she left our world. Unlike your average cider swilling 15 year old Alice’s list included the following as her top three:

• To get everyone eligible to join a bone marrow register
• To get EVERYONE to have a bucket list
• To get to the Royal Garden party in May

Sobering isn't it. Now think back to your 15 year old self and I dare you not to swallow hard.

When Alice launched her Blog back on 6^th June 2011 no one, least of all her and her family, could have predicted the turn of events that followed. Through the magic of the interweb in just 2 days Alice's Bucket List had over 7,000 followers and lashings of comments from around the world with many promising to join bone marrow donation schemes in support of her wishes. By 9^th June she was mentioned on This Morning and the Anthony Nolan bone marrow charity web site received 17 times its weekly web traffic over night which could only be attributed to Alice. 10th June and following a postscript on her Blog for people to sponser her sister in her Race fo Life taking place that Sunday, donations topped £10,000, the majority of which came from generous strangers touched by Alice and her story. Staggeringly by the 11^th June this had reached the substantial figure of £30,000!

But as we know there is always evil around the corner and on 14^th June there were countless clone sites claiming to be Alice and taking generous donations from innocent people for their own pockets. Seriously I still can’t believe this as I write it but it gets worse. On 19^th June her charity was hacked and funds were stolen. Thankfully some wonderful strangers donated their time and skills to help Alice and her family secure and protect their Blog and charity site from further hacking.

What I find most remarkable is that what started purely as a means of communication and diary for very poorly 15 year old resulted in registrations for bone marrow donors increasing from 6,000 per year to over 40,000. A legacy to the wonderful and inspirational Alice.

But Alice isn’t alone. There are sadly thousands of other children fighting the cancer battle; some will make it but many won’t.

If this has touched you I ask you to please consider joining the Anthony Nolan register here or the British Bone Marrow Registry here. It is easy: apply, spit on a stick that they send to you, post it back, sit back and have a cuppa!

Whether you are eligible or not (there are varying criterias for the two registrys above) I really urge you to follow Alice's blog or Facebook page.

If you are left wanting to do more then how about you consider supporting me. I have a Vigin Money Giving site set up in aid of my two chosen cancer charities (Macmillan nurses and Breast Cancer Care) click here to donate.

Still want to do more? Then send me a message. Come watch me stagger around London and cheer me on. Or offer to help me organise my various charity raising balls, quiz nights and more; I need so much help from designs for invitations and more, help obtaining auction and raffle prizes, idea generators to come up with innovative ways to make everything more than just fabulous, ticket sales and coordination and much much more.

You could also share this page via your Facebook, Tweet about it, email it to friends and colleagues, talk about it... as Alice has proved the power of the Internet is huge. Everything counts and helps raise awareness, and funds, for an amazing cause.

One final thought. Cancer is a term we are all familiar with (some sadly more than others); something we live in fear of; and one day may need to fight.