Читать книгу No Ordinary Wedding Planner: Fighting against the odds to help others make their dreams come true - Naomi Thomas - Страница 9

We decided to move as soon as possible, giving us time to get back on our feet. We also had high hopes of returning to the West Country in the future; it was our home, after all. Graham and I found a house and, while it didn’t tick all of our boxes, it was much cheaper than the houses we currently lived in, and much bigger too. It was in Bilsthorpe, a village about 14 miles north of Nottingham, 20 minutes from Graham’s dad, and 45 minutes from my family in Sheffield. It suited us perfectly.

We had also heard good things about the local oncology department, so I knew I was in safe hands for the remainder of my treatment. My chemotherapy was now coming to an end and my oncologist had suggested that I should also have six weeks of radiotherapy to ensure that the cancer was well and truly beaten. That would involve targeting a beam of radiation at the area where my lump had been, from Monday to Friday for the whole six weeks; still, if it would help in the long run I was prepared to endure the treatment.

We quickly signed for the house and moved in at the beginning of December. Although it wasn’t our dream house the extra room was most welcome, and the location was lovely. It was lovely to finally be alone. Our wonderful friend, Stuart, helped us to move our stuff, and before long we were settled in.

I soon started my radiotherapy treatment, and came out the other side unscathed, with no real lasting side effects. I felt as though I had come to the end of a long journey, and attended my next oncology appointment in the hope that everything was finally over, and that I would be sent on my way with an ‘I kicked cancer’s butt’ badge for posterity!