Day 301: Pain is nothing compared to what it feels like to quit.

Things I expected Sunday to be:

Wet.

Long.

Painful.

Things I did not expect Sunday to be:

SobFest 2012.

I think I've just about stopped crying for long enough to tell you about one of the hardest days of my life. At 9:45AM on Sunday I took my place on the starting line of my fourth London marathon. I wish I had known then what I would know just seven hours later... that this was to be my last London marathon. 

The first few miles were great; the sun was shining, Team Cat was on top form, and I had an overwhelming urge to high five every child/adult/object in sight. But, as ever, RA was determined to do it's best to ruin my day, and chose mile 7 to start to attack my knees. By mile 19 I could barely even get my leg off the ground, let alone run, and for pretty much the first time in the history of my life I considered letting the disease win. Had it not been for Team Cat pushing me to carry on, walking with me and, at one point, literally holding me up, I genuinely believe that I wouldn't have made it across that finishing line. But, somehow, I did it. 

I have never cried at a marathon before, even under the influence of the mile 16 cider last year. But this year I think it's fair to say I more than made up for it. I didn't cry because of the pain, though. I have always said that I will run the London marathon every year until my body won't let me anymore. Well this year, at mile 19, I realised that this time had come, and I made the heartbreaking decision that this marathon would be my last.  I think people think I'm being dramatic when I use the word 'heartbreaking', but the marathon has become so much more than a 26 mile run to me. Over the last four years it has become my way of regaining that little bit of control over my body, and proving to myself that I have the strength and courage to beat this disease. As it turns out, pain is nothing compared to what it feels like to quit. From the moment I made that decision every time I saw friends, family, or ARUK supporters cheering me on and screaming my name that was it, I booed it big time. With the finish line in sight Team Cat joined me in walking down the Mall. But I did not want my last memory of the London marathon to be of me hobbling over the finish line so somehow I managed to find the strength to run. And as I crossed that line for the fourth and final time an almighty cheer erupted from Team Cat behind me. That feeling at that moment is worth the 26.2 miles of pain every time, and I will carry it with me for the rest of my life. 

Thank you to every single person who has come to support me, sent me messages of support, or sponsored me over the last four years, and to everyone at ARUK for giving me the opportunity to run for such a great charity year after year. Who knows; maybe in a few years I'll be able to give it another go. But for now, over and out.

Day 276: So 2009

Right, HOW is it 1st April already? I'm sure it was only last week I was sat here smugly telling you that I had 5 months and 11 days to go before the London Marathon. It's now 3 weeks to go before the London Marathon.

Errr, crap.

I know that since this is my fourth marathon now some of you are probably thinking this is old news, like so 2009. But I can assure you that this does not make it any less of a challenge... as much as I try to convince myself otherwise. 26.2 miles is still just as long as it was last year. It's still just as painful. And I'm still battling rheumatoid arthritis.

But there's something special about running the London Marathon - whether it's the kids handing out jelly babies and high-fiving you as you run past, or the complete strangers cheering you on and shouting your name, or the unbeatable sense of achievement as you hobble over that finish line in front of Buckingham Palace. The truth is I would be absolutely devastated if one year my body doesn't let me run anymore. People think I'm mad for wanting to put myself through that grueling 26.2 miles over and over again. But crossing that finish line on the Mall reminds me that I have the strength and courage to beat this disease, and that feeling is worth the 26.2 miles of pain every time. 

So this is the point when I shamelessly ask you to donate money to Arthritis Research UK. It's thanks to the work done by ARUK that I am able to keep coming back to the London Marathon year after year. Had I been diagnosed even just 10 years earlier my prognosis would have been a lot worse, because the treatments simply weren't available. Not everyone is as lucky as me though. Not everyone responds as well to treatment as I have done. And, as yet, there is no cure. The work done by ARUK is vital so that new treatments and hopefully, one day, a cure can be found. And if you still need more persuading, just watch me attempt to climb stairs in the week following the marathon. 

Thank you in advance.

www.virginmoneygiving.com/catbull

Day 182: Happy New Year

To say 2011 has been a bit of a roller-coaster would probably be the biggest understatement since someone said that RA hurts.

2011 has been the year in which yet another treatment has failed leaving me barely able to walk, with irreversibly damaged hands and, at one point, in the A&E department of Leeds General Infirmary sobbing my heart out and begging for someone to help me - yep, RA strips you of your dignity as well as your independence and nope, nobody could do anything  to help. However 2011 has also been the year which saw me celebrate my 24th birthday pain free for the first time in over nine years thanks to my shiny new treatment. 

I shall leave you, and 2011, with a quick run down of the highlights:

- Yet another treatment failed. And I'm pretty sure I broke some sort of record with 4 GP, 1 out of hours, and 1 A&E visit in the space of a week. 

- Despite not being able to walk six weeks earlier, I completed London Marathon number three (with a little help from my brother and a swig of cider at mile 16). 

- I passed my exams. 

- I started new treatment.

- I saw Take That live.

- I rode a bike for the first time in nine years. 

- I started an amazing new job.

- I got a tattoo: the co-ordinates of the summit of Mount Kilimanjaro - my biggest achievement to date - on my damaged wrist. It reminds me of what I can achieve despite the pain.

- I went to Wigan to learn about hips. And to talk about mine. 

- I celebrated my 24th birthday pain free. 

- I said 'shit' in front of some posh peeps... and talked about joints (of course) at the ARUK 75th anniversary Lantern Opera. 

- I started bone treatment. 

- I talked some more about joints at the ARUK All Staff Day in Loughborough. 

- I talked about joints some more. 

- And last but not least, I went another whole year without letting my bitch of a disease defeat me. 

...I have a pretty good feeling about 2012. 

Happy New Year! 

Love,

Cat x

Day 165: What are you doing on 10th December 2012?

I genuinely got asked this today. 

I thought this was a joke at first, so I did my over-exaggerated fake-yet-very-convincing laugh, but nope, he was being serious. So I now already know what I'm doing on 10th December 2012 - I'm having my next bone juice treatment. It's a good job I'm a stationery whore and I bought my 2012 diary over a month ago. 

So this afternoon I had my first bone juice infusion. I have finally learnt how to say its actual real life name off by heart - it's called Zolendranic Acid. Personally I think 'bone juice' sounds a lot friendlier. So basically what happens is, they use a needle to stick a plastic tube called a cannula in a vein in my arm and then attach it to a drip filled with the Zolen...bone juice. And then I wait for it to make its way into my body. 

It's a good job I had my flatmate Alice with me because it's a pretty boring process. 

I also know what I'm doing on 4th and 18th January 2012 - having my second cycle of joint juice. Ok, it didn't last as long as I'd have liked, but all in all I think it's fair to say that round one was a pretty big success, and with my arm flare still in full swing round two couldn't come soon enough. 

Last week I was invited to speak at the ARUK All Staff Day in Loughborough. First Wigan, now Loughborough...such is the jet set life of an arthritis warrior. ARUK has teamed up with Great Ormond Street Hospital to set up an adolescent research project over the next five years focusing on adolescents with arthritis, and I am honoured to have been asked to chair a committee who will help to determine the issues vital to teenagers with various forms of the disease. Being a 'normal' teenager is hard enough. Being a  teenager with arthritis is a bitch. So I spent the morning telling the staff at ARUK my story and explaining why. And I'm going to keep telling my story until every single person in the country is RA educated.

Love,

Cat x

Day 145: It's shit.

MY SHOULDER HURTS. 

Just getting the shit bit over and done with so I can move on to happier things... like the Arthritis Research UK 75th Anniversary Lantern Opera last Thursday. Not only was I lucky enough to be invited but I was also honoured to be asked to speak - to explain to the guests what it is like to be a young person with arthritis. I was tempted to just stand up and scream, "IT'S SHIT" at the top of my voice... but in the end I decided that I should probably at least attempt to come up with something slightly more articulate. 

As if I wasn't nervous enough I was also completely out of my comfort zone - this was by far the poshest do I have ever attended in my 24 years of life. To give you some idea of just how posh, I was sat next to someone with the title 'Rt Hon'. RT HON. Fortunately watching the Titanic finally paid off and I remembered to use my cutlery from the outside in. I also brought along moral support in the form of fellow arthritis warrior Sam and BFF Dani. 

So here it is. I even got the phrase "it's shit" in in the end, to some awkward laughter from the posh peeps. But the truth is, there isn't any other word for it. 'Rubbish' just doesn't do it justice.

Love,
Cat x

Day 138: I'm not the only young person to be living with RA

This may come as a surprise to some of you but as I might have mentioned once or twice before, I am not the only young person to have ever been diagnosed with the bitch that is RA. In fact, there are around 25,000 young people under the age of 25 in the UK that are living with it. One of those people is Sean.

I met Sean a couple of years ago through Arthritis Research UK. At 12 years old Sean was a normal kid. At 12 years old Sean was playing badminton for England. But at 12 years old Sean was also diagnosed with RA. Not surprisingly this ended his badminton career, kept him out of school for a while, and pretty much affected his life in every way possible... something which I can relate to only too well.

But has he let it ruin his life? Has he fuck. In fact from 2^nd October – 14^th October this year he cycled 876 miles from Lands End to John O’Groats. This is a pretty bloody impressive achievement for any able-bodied person, let alone someone with RA. Here’s a quick summary:

1. He saw 53 dead animals on his journey.
2. Every bloke he spoke to in Cornwall was a Manchester United fan.
3. Scotland is the most beautiful place he has ever seen.
4. Warrington is the biggest shit hole he has ever seen.
5. He learnt that Scotland and Wales both hate England (there is a sign to welcome you into both countries but nothing the other side saying ‘Welcome to England’).
6. He spent a day and a half glued to the toilet.
7. ‘The Only Way is Essex’ has tarnished his county and therefore he eventually resorted to telling people he was from London.
8. He went two weeks only wearing two pairs of pants.
9. He came within inches of being run over by an articulated lorry.
10. He spat on his own face more than a dozen times.
11. He only got two punctures.
12. HE MADE IT.

This is the point where I shamelessly ask you to donate some money to Arthritis Research UK. Sean and I have been lucky enough to respond to treatment, but not everyone is as fortunate as us and more research needs to be done to find new treatments and, who knows, maybe even a cure. If you can spare a quid or two, you can sponsor him here. He cycled 80 MILES A DAY. For 12 DAYS. My bum hurts just thinking about it. Oh and by the way, he did the whole thing on his own, completely unsupported.

Love,

Cat x

Day 123: The 'I' word

Last Monday I headed to ARUK HQ where I had the pleasure of meeting Jacqui, who is organising the 75th anniversary Lantern Opera. A few months ago I was honoured to be asked to speak at the event. Many of the people attending won't have any idea what it is like to live with arthritis, or even that, (surprise, surprise) yes, people under the age of 80 really can have it. And it's my very important job to educate them. No pressure then. During our conversation Jacqui used the 'I' word. It's not the first time someone's used it but I don't feel any less uncomfortable the more I hear it. The word I am referring to is 'inspirational'. I have often wondered what makes people tell me I'm inspirational. It's just not a title I feel I deserve. The way I see it, if you're unlucky enough to be hit over the head (and shoulders, and knees, and wrists, and ankles, etc) with the shit stick that is RA, you can go one of two ways. You can feel sorry for yourself and let it defeat you. This is completely understandable. It's completely shit, there's no other word for it. Faced with a future of pain, immobility, and an uncertain prognosis, I suspect most of you would go the same way. However there is also a second option, an option which I have just happened to have chosen. Yes, having arthritis sucks big time, but I refuse to let it ruin my life or stop me achieving my goals. I don't think there's anything inspirational about that. After all, I'm just living my life aren't I?!  

On Tuesday I caught up with Phil and Sally from BRIT. Now if anyone deserves the title 'inspirational' it's Phil (in fact Sally does as well for putting up with him on a daily basis). Despite being told he'd never walk again after sustaining spinal cord injuries during an explosion in Iraq Phil has rowed the Channel, climbed El Capitan, walked the London Marathon twice, and completed the 3 Peaks Challenge in 72 hours. Today he filled me in on his latest challenge which will see him raising awareness of his charity BRIT. Now I realise you must all be on the edge of your seats right now wanting to get in on the big secret, but you're just going to have to wait until January 24th 2012 to find out...

Phil and I at the start of the London Marathon 2010.

On Thursday thanks to the bitch that is RA I had to go to the dentist. 

THE DENTIST. 

Before I'm allowed to start the bone juice treatment I have to get the all clear from the dentist because of the risk of osteonecrosis of the jaw (still not sounding any less scary, is it?)  Now I can see the importance and all, but I REALLY hate the dentist. Sitting still whilst some woman pokes around in my mouth, tells me I need to brush my teeth better, and then charges me 17 quid for the pleasure isn't exactly my idea of fun. But I got the all clear to go ahead so I guess I can forgive her just this once. With that trauma over and done with I headed over to ARUK HQ again for a catch up with the lovely Riikka, Communications Officer extraordinaire. 

Oh yeah, and the arthritis thing... with such a busy week I barely had time to stop for long enough to notice that once again I am PAIN FREE. 

Love,

Cat x

Day 55: On top of the world

Exactly one year ago today I was setting off on my latest challenge: to climb Mount Kilimanjaro, the highest freestanding mountain in the world. It seemed like a good idea at the time, after all what better way could there be of putting two fingers up to arthritis?

It turned out to be both the best and worst thing I've ever done in my life.

It was a big enough challenge just getting to Tanzania in the first place, and I'm not talking about the eight hour bus journey from Nairobi on the somewhat questionable roads. The first problem was my knee; it never really recovered after I put it through 26.2 miles back in April for the London Marathon, but I've never let a little bit of pain stop me before and I didn't intend to let it this time either, despite mama Bull's efforts to persuade me otherwise. The second problem was that I wasn't allowed the live yellow fever vaccination. Some of the medication I take works by suppressing my overactive immune system, which essentially means my body is too shit to fight off infections. In other words, injecting me with the yellow fever vaccination would actually result in me getting yellow fever, which I could really do without if I'm honest. It turns out that the yellow fever jab is fairly vital for travelling to Tanzania (once again there was a hopeful look in mama Bull's eyes that I would have to stay in England). However several calls to the Tanzanian Embassy later I was assured that I would definitely be allowed in the country. Phew. That just left the small matter of climbing a fairly big mountain...

It was the hardest thing I've ever done in my life. Suddenly running a marathon seemed easy in comparison. Although my joints held out, my knee suffered for a long time afterwards, and my lack of energy made the early starts and long days of walking even more of a challenge than it already was. But I did it. Take that RA, you can't stop me doing anything.

On top of the world... literally.

I listened to a lot of music over the six days of climbing, but there is one song in particular that reminds me of the very emotional moment when I reached the summit. Hearing this song reminds me that I have the strength to beat this bitch of a disease.

So today, one year on, I'm not ashamed to admit I'm feeling a little bit emotional. A lot has changed in a year. My body is failing me once again, but hopefully with a bit of help from the joint juice in the not so distant future I'll be ready to take on the next challenge... sorry in advance mama Bull.