Thoughts from Reading Festival

As you can probably guess from the title ^^^ this year I went to Reading Music Festival (23 - 25 August). And yes, it was amazing, yes, it was one of the best weekends of my life, yes, I loved every minute, and yes, I am currently suffering from serious post-Reading blues because just oh god it was amazing - but that's not what I'm going to blog about today, because jeeze if I did that I'd just prattle on pointlessly forever. In fact, I can feel myself starting to do that now, so I shall get to the point!

Sat on my friend James' shoulders for this photo, hence the
height. Even from the photo you can tell how incredible
the atmosphere was there

I've said before that I love live music and I love gigs so much. There is nothing quite like the buzz you get at a gig, when everyone starts singing along to the lyrics of a song of a band you love immensly - I mean, if I get that feeling as a lover of the band, I can't even begin to imagine how it makes the band themselves feel. It must be utterly surreal and incredible. I have such a huge deal of respect for the music industry and for music artists. As someone who writes, and I do write on a daily basis - even if it's just adding details to a character I've come up with, I try to do some kind of writing every day - I know how much of yourself you inadvertently put into what you create and so how nerve-wracking it is to show what you've done to someone else, because if they reject it, it almost feels like they're rejecting you. I'd imagine it's fairly similar for musicians, and yet I'm so grateful they do what they do, obviously, because music has saved me time and time again. When I see bands I love live, and I hear that music I love actually being performed in front of me, to say it generally reduces me to tears would not be exaggerating. I have cried at most gigs I've been at.

In my lifetime so far, I've seen a definite shift in the way music is perceived. I am still a huge lover of CDs and physical editions of music - I have an iPod, but it's full of music I've loaded on there from CDs. I also can't stand piracy and illegal downloading of music. When people say, "Yeah but it's only 99p they're missing out on, it's not much, come on, what difference will it make" my mind then goes "If everyone said that, the band would make no money!" More and more people I know now illegally download music - which OK, that's their decision, it's just one that I hate personally. Why do I hate it so much and why have I suddenly been thinking this? I will explain.

Being at Reading Festival was one of the single most incredible experiences of my life. I was surrounded by 3 of my best friends pretty much at all times (4 when we could find Hannah) which made the weekend amazing, but obviously, what made the weekend fantastic was the music. Having constant access to all this live music was unbelievable and phenomenal and fantastic. It made me think about how those musicians really were baring their souls to us, singing about things that mattered to them, and how they were touching so many people just by being. I have always appreciated and loved music, but it made my love and appreciation for music increase ten-fold. How on earth does this link to illegal downloading, I hear you ask. It fits in perfectly.

Personally, I don't get the whole illegal downloading thing. If you love a band and want to support a band, why do you think you have the right to get that music for free? The hours that band have put in to create that music is more than anyone can probably guess. How would you feel if you spent months, maybe a year or more, of your life doing something, making something that you were hoping to earn some money from, and people react by saying "That's amazing, I love it!" and you earn no money at all. It would be an utter kick in the teeth to all the work you've done. Everyone has the view of "Well, other people do it, why shouldn't I" and that's true, but eventually it'll damage the bands, in my opinion. By not paying you're not supporting these bands, and eventually these bands wouldn't be able to continue if they received no money whatsoever. Bands at Reading Festival survive on people buying their music and I don't know, the idea some people don't actually pay for music kinda disgusts me a bit. Maybe I'm old fashioned. I don't know.

Reading Festival made me appreciate bands in a whole different light and feel a love for music in a different way that I'd ever felt, and I think that's where this rant/pondering/thoughts/train of thought thing has come from - because music has done so much for me, as it has done so much for others, and the thought of not repaying those people who've helped me so much isn't something I can fully contemplate. I don't know.

Side note - if you love music and have never been to a gig then oh good god go. They just no words, gigs are unbelievable. 

Biffy Clyro at Main Stage at Reading Festival on the last night of the festival - they were unbelievably good

AS Results and thoughts from after

So today was the day I received my AS-Level grades. For me it was that bit more nerve-wracking because I'm actually currently on the Greek island of Corfu (as I sit here typing this, I am sat in almost 40 degree heat with a Sprite next to me, by a pool. Sat at a table with an umbrella over it so I can actually see my laptop screen but still, this is Greece for you) so whilst all my friends got their results by going into school and having each other with them, I got mine emailed to me. And not only that, but because Greece is 2 hours ahead of England, it felt like I was having to wait even longer because obviously, my body clock is running ahead of everyone else's.

That beautiful exam result sheet we all know and love...
LOL JK I HATE AND DESPISE IT

Eventually my results were emailed to me and they were as follows:
History - A
General Studies - B
Graphic Art - B
English Literature - C
Biology - E 
The only one of these I was upset about and yes, I will admit I cried at, was English. As I'm sure I've stated before, I want a career in English. I want to be a writer more than anything else, I always have, and reading isn't a chore to me, it's something I absolutely love doing. I did so many past papers, revised those poems and that play to death almost, and my grade was a C. I'm aware some people would kill for a C, but for me it just didn't feel good enough. Biology I couldn't give a crap about, I'm dropping, just pleased I managed to avoid a U! As for History don't even, a week before the exams I was sat on my bed having a crying breakdown to my mum about how I knew nothing.... um.

Anyway, those were my results that I received this morning, and then I was sat thinking and felt the need to write a blog post about it. But no, the point of this blog post is not "Sarah talks about her results YAY". The point is what I was starting to think about afterwards.

I am 17 years old. Me and my friends are 17. We are teenagers. When you're teenagers, very few decisions you make and very few things you want to do or do last a long time or have a huge deal of seriousness involved in them. Heck, I struggle with deciding what flavour ice cream to have (ice cream parlours abroad are hell for me because I'm like BUT I LIKE ALL THESE FLAVOURS WAAAH). The point I'm trying to make is as I get older and older I seem to understand less and less what I want to be doing with my life. A few weeks ago we started Personal Statements, and me and my friend Hannah were just like "WE WANT TO DO ENGLISH LIT, NO WE DON'T KNOW WHAT OUR FAVOURITE GENRE IS, GO AWAY". Obviously we didn't say this but this is how we felt at the time.

Being a teenager is tough and I don't think enough credit is given to that. We're not children anymore, but we're not adults either - and yet we're treated as both children and adults. We're told we aren't old enough to understand things, that we're "just kids", and yet we're having to do exams and make decisions about things that genuinely can and will impact our futures. Excuse me if I think that's an extremely adult thing to have to be dealing with. I personally want to spend my afternoons out on my skateboard, playing on the Playstation, eating whilst crying from feels in The Avengers and chatting/hanging out with friends, making the most of the time I have whilst I'm young. But no, I'm forced to spend hours revising for exams that at this moment in time I don't actually care about. In a few years, yes, I will care, but at this moment in time... I'm too young. I don't feel old enough to be making such life-changing decisions, or doing such life-impacting things.

I also hate the idea of exams moulding your future. I had a friend at Primary School who was smart as anything - we were 11 years old, and we had properly smart conversations together. We borrowed each others books, we were intellectually on the same level. We left Primary School, and I got 3 5s at SAT Level. She got 3 3s, and continuously throughout school has been smart but just has struggled with the exam system. Some people just aren't good with exams.

Exams seem to mould too much. But essentially exams show that you have a good memory. They do not test your smartness, they do not test how you interact as a person, your kindness etc etc, all of which I think are extremely important things when it comes to being employed! I don't know. I think I'm just sick to the back teeth of exams meaning so much and impacting our lives so much when we're just teenagers. Surely there's more to our futures than decisions we make and things we do aged 16, 17 and 18....

How's that 'Living for the day' thing going, Sarah?

It's been a while since I last blogged, crikey, life has taken a hold of me to say the very least! Apologies, I'm an awful consistent blogger but y'know... I think the mixture of Ten Tors and AS-Levels didn't help with that, but now that both are over I am free (well, A2 stuff starts soon but who actually cares about that until September to be honest).

So, what's been going on in my life since I posted about wanting to make the most of life, and how Rob inspired me to do so many things and make the most of things? Let's make a list :)

27 March 2013
I finished the Access to Bristol course (whoop whoop!) which is a course I got onto at Bristol University - the Uni closest to me - to study English for a few weeks. It looks great on Uni application forms and really inspired me to end up doing English at Uni. There were times when I would have much rather stayed home and eaten pizza, but I did it, which I'm proud of :)
In the evening, I then went out to a Bastille gig with some friends at 02 Academy Arena in Bristol which was awesome. It only cost £10 and was 100% worth it and I really enjoyed myself - gigs make me really happy and full of energy and generally make me love life :)

Bastille in Bristol - we were right at the front
and it was so good!

01 April 2013 
My parents were away for the week so I was a bit of a naughty child and had a house party with some friends. It was kind of a pre-Reading Festival group party plus some other friends, and it's the sort of thing I'd never have had the nerve to do previously, but my mind just went, "Screw it" and we had the party. It was a laugh - although some crazy stuff happened the house didn't get trashed, my friends who stayed over did not cause havoc (apart from having to remove Matt from his sleeping position on the stairs) and so when I actually came clean to my parents they were so impressed with how well the house was and the precautions I'd taken that I was in no trouble at all and was even told I was allowed parties in the future, provided it was the same group of people - so that went rather well I thought!

11 - 12 May 2013 
Ten Tors event! This was walking 45 miles across a moor called Dartmoor over a weekend... and it was tough to say the least. The weather was pretty horrible (so bad that at the end they kept the finish line open for 45 minutes longer than normal) and river crossings were thigh-high wadings, so our feet were soaking for the entire weekend. However, we still finished - at 2.04pm, 3 hours before the finish line officially closes, which is an amazing time for a 45 miler finish anyway, let alone in the horrific conditions we had. I now have Ten Tors bronze and silver medals for 35 and 45, just need the 55 miler gold now! There were times I wanted to drop out, because I was so cold and tired, and my leg was injured as well which didn't help much at all, but I persevered because I knew if I dropped out I'd be so disappointed and angry with myself. All 6 of our team finished, and all 6 of the members of both the 35 and 55 milers from our school also finished - given that out of 500 teams, only 218 finished in the time limit with full teams, this was a pretty amazing thing to happen and we were all so proud of ourselves. I loved the 45 team so much because all 6 of us got on like a house on fire (after typing that I've only just appreciate what a weird saying that is really) and getting on with your team just made Dartmoor more manageable and borderline enjoyable really, so :)

At the finish line - soaking wet and cold but extremely happy
to have finished and proud of ourselves! L-R Tom, Beth, me,
James, Joel, Pete

On the podium after being given our silve medals :) L-R James, Joel,
me, Beth, Tom and Pete :)

24 - 25 May 2013 
Although I'm currently a Year 12, I'm in a friendship group of Year 13s, and these days were their last two days at school before their A2 exams started - so their last official days as a year group in school. I wasn't hugely planning on coming in on these days, but my friends begged me to, so I came in on the days. I didn't dress up in old uniform like they did on the 24th, nor in fancy dress on the 25th, but being there and being able to say goodbye to them all... I loved it. I made them all goodbye cards (making 23 cards with messages and photos handmade and written takes forever) and it was entirely worth it because even though it took ages, firstly I felt like I was properly saying goodbye, and secondly all of them appreciated it - Jackson wouldn't stop saying how lovely it was. I wasn't quite expecting such a reaction and it meant a lot. Afterwards on the 25th, they all went up to the pub and took me with them, so whilst they were all getting a little bit drunk I was downing the coca-cola and J20s, but it was lovely to be with them as a huge group one last time really.

Me, Jack, Kat and Tom on the penultimate day, so
they were all in old school uniform

Me (left but one) on the last day with a large
proportion of my friend group :))

01 June 2013
SAW GREEN DAY AT EMIRATES STADIUM LONDON.
This was the fifth gig I've ever been to, back in the place where the first gig I'd ever been to was, exactly a year since. I saw Coldplay at Emirates on 1st June 2012, and then I was back there on 1st June 2013 again to see Green Day. The gig was unbelievable, and the fact the supports were two of my favourite bands (All Time Low and Kaiser Chiefs) meant that the entire gig from start to finish was surreal and amazing. My back was kinda injured, and the ongoing leg injury was not helped by standing for 6.5 hours, but whatever - it was worth it. I could go on and on but it'll just be saying how amazing they are so you get the point; can't wait to see Green Day again at Reading Music Festival now!!

A picture of Green Day playing at the gig

Close up of Billie Joe Armstrong on the big screen eeee

Although these may seem fairly normal, not huge things, they're things that I put more effort into making the most of than I previously would have done, and the result was I enjoyed myself more and have more deep incredible memories than I possibly would have if I hadn't put the effort into doing my best and making all the memories. It's been tough at times - Ten Tors is always tough, and saying goodbye to so many of my friends who mean so much to me was extremely tough, but I tried to think positively and hey, got the silver medal, and hey, yes it sucks my friends were leaving, but I went in on their two last days to make the most of them being around while they were still here instead of crying about how they were leaving. That to me is more important. I also maybe wouldn't have previously bothered with going to see Bastille, or saying "Meh, seeing Green Day at Reading Festival anyway, what's the point" but by going out I actually experienced living if that makes any sense and I have no regrets.

Exams are over now so AS Levels are done :) I'm making a Youtube video with my friend Dodie (check her out on Youtube) where we'll talk about Rob and a song that was written for him which is on iTunes where the money is going towards Leukemia and Lymphoma Research, which I'm quite scared about but Dodie has over 20,000 subscribers so I know this is the right thing to do. Due to my love of Youtube and my trying not to care what people think of me, I've also started a Youtube channel of my own (click here for it) which is something I would never have dared done a few months ago but you know what - life has taught me that it's not definite and you have to make the most of the time you've got, so if you want to do something do it. So for the moment, even though I'm not doing anything huge (yet anyway....) I would say I'm making much more of my life than I previously was, even though it is tough sometimes, and that to me is worth it.

The Final Farewell

We had Rob's memorial today. And it was emotional. But it was just such a lovely service and I am fairly sure we all did Rob proud. It was by far, I think, one of the hardest things I've ever had to do - but I don't look back on it in regret. I look back on it and I'm immensely proud of all my friends and myself, and how we've stuck together through all this, and how strong everyone was today. I can't put it into words.

The church was packed full; it was the church of the village Rob lived in and his family still live in. So many people from school, Explorers and his family were there. The flowers at the service formed the shape of a pirate duck, to fit with The Jolly Quacker and the Quacker's duck theme, and the order of service had my painting of The Jolly Quacker (yes, I promise I will explain this at some point) on the outside, and in the inside was a photograph of Rob. There was a group of us who spoke of memories we had of Rob - me, Sam, Laura, Jen, Sarah, Polly, Phoebe, Joel, Curtis, Alex and Matt. So here's what I said:

"Though I have far too many memories to even count that I shared with Rob, I'll always look back and smile at the times we had in Latin class together. He was always the comedic backbone of our class; whether it was his insistence that he was a god and we were all peasants, to saying that everything was either mine or Laura's fault, to his obsession with the blinds and radiator in a certain classroom to an extent that if anyone went anywhere near to adjust them, he would legitimately rugby tackle us to the floor to prevent us doing so. But my strongest memory was an event in Year 10. 
     Our teacher was later to the lesson, and I think we were supposed to be looking over vocab, or doing work of some kind, while we waited for her to arrive. So, naturally, me and Rob didn't do this. Someone in the class said as a joke that we could throw our bags at the recycle bin, not expecting me and Rob to actually carry this out. We spent a good ten minutes chucking our bags at the recycle bin and trying to intercept shots, keeping a points system on the board; and then we decided to see what would happen if both of us threw our bags at the bin at the same time. The bags hit the bin with extreme force, the bin fell over and paper went everywhere - just as our teacher walked in. There was silence and then the two of us were shouted at very loudly, told that fourteen and fifteen year olds should know better, and we were sent out of the classroom being told that we would be talked to once she had addressed the rest of the class. Throughout all of this, me and Rob just avoided eye contact and were trying desperately not to laugh; the moment we were left outside we exploded into hysterics. 
     Rob is one of the best friends I've had or ever will have. He was always smiling and always laughing, and always able to brighten up your day no matter what - even in the numerous times I saw him at the hospital and hospice - which is why this is one of my favourite memories, because I can't look back on it without smiling."

I have that pinned up on my magnetic whiteboard now. I wrote it out on a piece of lined paper, nothing special, but it will always be special now; it's a physical permanent favourite memory of Rob. Although I obviously have hilarious memories from the hospice and hospital, I think I love this one particularly because it was just about him being him, not him being ill, and it makes me smile, just like Rob always did; so it embodies everything I want to remember about him.

Everyone had different memories (such as Joel and the story of the bubbles and the fan) and I was so proud of everyone for not breaking down into tears. We were in bits when we were sat down watching the slideshow with Rob's favourite band, The Hoosiers, playing, but that was OK, it was expected; I'm just so proud of everyone for not crying when we were speaking. I'm fairly sure if Rob could see us now he'd be like "For god's sake, stop crying, man up peasants!" and that makes me smile and keeps me strong.

After the memorial we all went across to the village hall where we ate cake, drank tea and sat and talked together. It was obviously a horrible thing, the most horrible thing I've ever had to do, but it made me appreciate how lucky I am with the school year group I have; the majority of our year was there, giving out hugs to each other in the bucketload and being supportive and amazing. I hope this strength continues.

Rob, I sincerely hope you're having a good time up there, if you're up there moaning and we're all going through this for you moaning I will not be best pleased! I love you, mi boi, forever, and I know one day I'll see you again. For now, I'll make the most of my life here, doing what you couldn't do; but I'm not scared of death anymore. How could I be scared of death when death means to me seeing one of my best friends again? I couldn't be, is the simple answer. This was our final farewell to Rob, and I think it was perfect. I hope everyone else felt the same.

Rest in Peace, mi boi

5th January 2013 - Joel, me, Rob and Matt visiting Rob at hospital
This photo will forever be one of my favourite photos ever

Monday 18th February, 1:10pm - a date and time which will stick in my head forever. It was the date and time that my beautiful, inspiring, incredible, wonderful, hilarious and all over brilliant friend Rob Brett lost his battle to leukemia. It's been almost a week since it happened and I still don't think it's fully sunk in yet. I suppose it feels unreal and impossible that the boy I spent the afternoon with on Saturday, running round the Hospice after cakes and cat, is not actually alive and breathing anymore; I haven't fully wrapped my head around how easily life can be taken away yet.

That whole day was surreal really now I look back on it. I've recently fallen out with one of my closest friends, though he won't tell me what I've done wrong, and on Sunday night the fact I'd lost him and I was losing Rob made me cry myself to sleep. I woke up with stingy eyes and that empty feeling you get when you cry yourself to sleep. For some reason, throughout the entirety of Monday I was on the verge of tears. I was so deeply worried about Rob and if I was ever going to see him again, and the fact his liver was failing and statistically he wasn't meant to make it through the week; though I'd known those facts for ages, for some reason on Monday they were all I could think of. I couldn't concentrate in my lessons properly, and anything anyone said to me they were risking setting me off in tears. Joel has over the years got to know me so well that he can pick up on when I'm distressed or upset even when I'm hiding it to the point that nobody else picks up on it, and Matt's starting to be the same; both of them at separate points in the day asked me what was wrong and gave me big hugs to tell me not to worry, that worrying would solve nothing, and for the moment Rob was doing okay. I couldn't eat my lunch properly, and was getting really frustrated with myself because I didn't understand why I was feeling so awful.

I had English fifth period (which is the last lesson of the day at my school) and continued to be distracted throughout that lesson, continually having to ask Joel what was going on. Twenty minutes into the lesson a lime green slip was delivered and given to me. It read 'Go to Miss Khan's office immediately with all belongings'. (Miss Khan is Head of Sixth Form and Deputy Head of the school). My heartbeat immediately went into overdrive because I could think of no reason as to why I was being called there, and the 'with all belongings' which implied I would not be returning to my lesson sent alarm bells ringing in my head. According to Joel my whole face crumpled when the note was delivered, and I know I was shaking like mad as I packed away my stuff and basically ran out of the classroom. The entire time as I walked across the school I was saying manically to myself "It's not about Rob it's not about Rob it's not about Rob" and trying not to cry, because I could think of nothing else it would be about.

I opened the door to the office, and Jen, Laura, Sam and Laura's mum were already there, with red eyes and tears streaming down their faces. I think I knew right then what had happened, as soon as Sam walked over and put his arms around me, but when Miss Khan said "I'm so sorry Sarah; Rob passed away at 1:10pm today" according to Laura I basically collapsed in the middle of the office and I went into proper loud, shaking sobs. Jen had to hold onto me and help me across the room to a chair where I just sat and sobbed, while Miss Khan asked who else needed to be asked to the office. Polly and Claire were contacted and I gagged out that I needed Joel. Polly came in very fast, with Joel behind her, and I basically fell into Joel's arms, sobbing, as he proceeded to turn the yellowy colour of Miss Khan's walls. It was quite honestly the most horrific moment of my entire life, being in that office and being told one of my best friends had passed away. Even though we were told it was peaceful, it was still the hard, horrible truth that Rob was gone. We were never going to see him again. Miss Khan rubbed my shoulders as I sat, completely immobile to do anything but sob, and Laura and Jen held each other, Polly and Claire, while Sam and Joel comforted Will who was best friends with Rob at Primary School.

Sam gets a lift to and from with Curtis' older sister, Ella, everyday and Curtis was ill at home on Monday. Me and Sam were absolutely desperate for Curtis to find out from us, and not from Facebook, so we practically ran to the car and broke the news to Ella who held herself together and told us that of course we could come round to theirs after school. I tried and failed not to cry in the car over to Curtis' as Sam held my hand and tried to reassure me, though he'd gone into shutdown mode basically - not talking, not crying, just an unemotional block who looked ready to shatter at any moment. We got to Curtis and Ella's house, and broke the news to Curtis who reacted with "Oh god" and sat up in his bed holding his head in his hands. Curtis and Ella took us downstairs and we sat in the living room with cokes, talking about memories and trying not to cry. Curtis held it together until his mum and dad came home, then he broke down when his mum gave him a humongous hug. Sam and I left shortly afterwards, after a group hug with Curtis, to go round Sam's where Sam unearthed a bottle of whisky. I don't drink so drank nothing, but sat on Sam's bed while he drank and smiled about memories. We went to Laura's afterwards and a group of us sat and talked about Rob and cried and laughed together.

I'm never taking my 'Beating Blood Cancer' bracelet off, because it's the constant reminder I have of Rob. I'm never taking 'The Jolly Quacker' poster off my wall either, because it's also a constant reminder I have of Rob - I'll explain the story of The Jolly Quacker in a future blog, it's too long to put in this already long blog post.

It's been less than a week but it already feels like there's a huge hole in my life and I miss Rob more than I can put into words. His memorial service is on Thursday, and I think it will fully hit me then that he's gone. I feel so honoured to have become so close to one of the sweetest, kind-hearted, wonderful people on this planet, and I will never forget about Rob, never stop missing and loving him. It's been a rough through months but we got through it together - and now we're all getting through his death together too. I just hope wherever he is, he's sat up there in the duck hat smiling over us; that's the mental image that's keeping me going at the moment anyway.

Visiting Rob on the 16th January 2013

Rob at home for a couple of hours - we brought him stick on
moustaches, and Sam got ambushed by his cats

I love you forever and always mi boi. I hope that Ollie (a boy in our Sixth Form who died in a car crash in November) is taking care of you up there; for some reason, the idea that he is makes me feel far more comforted, that you're not alone there. Rest in peace you wonderful batty boy, and though life without you is going to be hard, if there really is an afterlife I will see you on the other side and cry with happiness at seeing you again. I love you and miss you and I'm just eternally thankful I met you <3

Cats and Cake

Visited Rob at the Hospice again today with Jen, Laura and Sam. Rob's mum texted Sam at about 2pm saying that Rob was requesting us 4 go to visit him (I'd assume Curtis would normally be on that list, but he was in Cardiff watching a football match today). Jen was to begin with quite freaked out, worried that we were being summoned for a reason - to be told some form of ominous news - but it was okay, we weren't. Rob just wanted to see us, and that's all there was to it.

I mentioned the Hospice in a previous blog, but just believe me, it's absolutely lovely there. Rob's got a proper Hobbit hole next to his room, there's a jacuzzi there, music rooms, video game rooms, the actual personal rooms are big, light and friendly, and there's room at the hospice for friends and family to stay over too. As soon as you walk in, there's painted pillars, big squashy sofas, a huge dressing up corner, a wendy house and a phonebox thing. The kitchen and big dining room are spacious and light as well, and it's just generally such a lovely place. I'm glad Rob's there. Ideally, of course, I wouldn't want him there at all, because being in the Hospice means the end is nigh, whereas in the hospital there was still hope of some kind; but if this is how it has to be, which it sadly is, then the Hospice is the best place for him, because it really is lovely there. 

Rob chilling with Sheldon and Sazzles

Sam with Zazzles climbing around
on his shoulder

Rob's allowed his cats (Zazzles and Sheldon) with him in the Hospice - the door to his room has a sign on it which says 'Knock before entering - CATS RUNNING LOOSE INSIDE' - which makes him happy, because he wasn't allowed the cats in the hospital. There's a litter tray for them in the ensuite bathroom he has, and he has to put a blanket over his drip and his arm (where the drip tubes go into his body) because the cats like playing with the wires, but the cats are pretty much running loose round the room and it's great. When we arrived, the cats launched themselves at us, and Zazzles decided to go on an exploration of climbing on Sam; he ended up hunched over trying to get the cat off him, but she was very insistent in continuing to climb him. Apparently (according to Rob), Zazzles is recognisable because she's 'very zazzy' but also she has a white nose, and Sheldon's recognisable as the fat male cat. Rob doesn't really mince his words when it comes to his cats! Sheldon curled up on the spare bed next to Jen while we were watching You've Been Framed on the TV, and Zazzles curled up on my lap. I was sat next to Rob, so Rob was fussing over Zazzles while we were watching people crash motorbikes and fall off walls on the TV. 

Rob in the kitchen at the Hospice

After a tip-off from Rob's aunt that there was cake in the kitchen, we decided we would go to the kitchen to investigate. Rob's room is at the far end of the Hospice; to get to the kitchen you have to go down a long corridor to the entrance hall, then up a curving corridor into the dining hall where the kitchen is open plan to the right as you walk in. It took a minute for Rob to sort himself out so he could get up, and walking to the kitchen was slower than last time, but we weren't really in a rush so it was okay. Rob was saying "Hello" to all the carers and people we passed on the way; he seems well at home at the Hospice which is good. We got to the kitchen and he announced we were on a mission for cake, and the carers just pointed us in the direction and said "There's loads of cake in those boxes, help yourself", so we loaded up 4 plates of chocolate cake, shortbread, lemon cake and flapjacks, then left for Rob's room again. 

Complete with plates of cake, comfy seating positions (me in an armchair, Rob in the armchair next to me, Jen on the spare bed and Sam on Rob's bed) and Rob in his duck hat, came the 'mass questioning/gossip' fest. I was questioned on my situation with me and a certain boy by Rob, to which I gave the answer of "There is no change, Rob, still nothing" and he went "Oh dear, that is disappointing, we'll have to send the army of ducks to sort him out!" Sam's turn came and that whole situation is just utterly hilarious, but I'm not cruel enough to put it on the internet, so Sam if you ever find this blog BE THANKFUL! 

Laura arrived at that point, because she'd been shopping for thermals (yes, proper thermals. She's doing World Challenge so will spend her summer hiking in the Indian Himalayas. She needs thermals) and caught the tail end of this conversation, plus some cake. About half an hour of laughing, scoffing cake and further chatter ensued before the dinner bell went and we had to go so Rob could have his tea. 

Rob in the famous duck hat

He wasn't as bouncy as when I saw him on Wednesday, and it is beginning to become clear that his body's deteriorating - his eyes and skin are going yellowy now, and he's become very bloated round the middle; both these indicate the breakdown of his liver now. I know he's in quite a lot of pain and they're upping his morphine intake now, so realistically we don't have much time left anymore. However, considering the stakes and the situation, Rob's remaining remarkably cheerful and upbeat (as per usual) and making jokes such as "Well you have to tell me, scuse me, I don't have many days left for you to!" and "For god's sakes Sam, who am I going to tell, I'm in a bloody Hospice with crap phone signal, I'm not really technologically wired up to spread your secrets everywhere thank you, nor am I that interested in telling people about your uninteresting life!" He was apparently quite tired and felt quite ill earlier and yesterday, but for the moment he's still hanging on and fighting, and for the moment that's more than enough and I can't give him enough love and respect for it.

Ice Age, McDonalds and 'putting my foot down'

This is my second blog post of today - grand total of 3 blog posts in 2 days. Good work considering I previously hadn't been on here in well over a year, then was so disgruntled with what I'd put all that time ago that I hastily deleted those posts and essentially started this blog afresh. That's a resolution of mine now; to not delete anymore blog posts I put up - so essentially, not put up any blog posts that I know I'd look back on and be like 'Just what even Sarah what'

So Sam and Curtis came round today. Rewind. I should probably explain who Sam and Curtis are. Well, I've been friends with Sam since we were plonked next to each other in History in Year 11 (this seating arrangement we agreed to continue with when we were put in the same History class for Year 12), though we became close over Summer 2012 after last day of Year 11 where me, Sam, Rob and 2 other friends called Jenny and Ollie spent the majority of the leaving party together and then trying to get a drunken Jen and Rob down the hill home. We spent a lot of the summer attempting to matchmake our friends... I should point out that none of our matchmaking plans ever actually worked; those people did not get together, though me and Sam were utterly convinced they would. Looking back on it, it's really quite funny. We became friends over conversations about owls, herons in saunas (don't even ask), Sam's history textbook which became more of a filing cabinet (handing it back to the teachers after exams, our History teacher extracted 74 sheets from it), similar opinions in couples-to-be-who-never-actually-were, and then actually discovered we had a great deal in common to the point now where Sam knows me better than basically anyone else on the planet - except possibly Joel, but that's just because Joel's known me so long. I will explain who Joel is another time. Curtis I hadn't actually ever spoken to until around late September/early October 2012, but our friendship is one that has really come out of Rob. Rob's 17th birthday party, Curtis was invited and I got talking to him then, thinking he was genuinely a really lovely person, but I didn't really

Sam (left) and Curtis (right) on a visit to Rob's Hospice

think I'd talk to him in school. Not out of spite, not out of thinking I was better or anything like that, but I just didn't think it would be a lasting friendship; more someone I got on with when I met. Rob falling ill though, that changed things; because Rob describes his core group as Sam, Jenny, Laura, then me and Curtis, and to be there for Rob and to get through this we have all become very close of late - and Curtis, someone I never would have thought I'd become friends with, is now one of those I value most. I need him just as much as I need Sam, Laura, Jen and Joel right now (Joel is also a friend of Rob's, just not as close, but still a friend) because we can only get through this is we're together. My friendship with Sam has become 10x closer through all of this, leaning on each other, and my friendship with Curtis has appeared because of this - I suppose I'm desperately searching for positives coming out of this hideous thing. But that's who Sam and Curtis are. Utter nutters and technically speaking quite recent friends, but friends I trust and love completely.

Ice Age 4 crew 

Anyway, they came round today (wow that description was very rambly) for an Ice Age day. They were meant to come round earlier, but Sam was lumbered with looking after his little sister Jenny, and I was on Skype call to him whilst watching him get slaughtered by her at Monopoly - might I add, Jenny is seven. She's also beaten him at Fifa on the Xbox 9-6. Because they were later than planned, we met at the local McDonalds, where me and Sam had proper meals and Curtis had a chocolate milkshake - I don't understand how he had so little but oh well! We then came back to mine and watched Ice Age 4, crying with laughter at the part Sid becomes paralysed and is basically a floppy idiotic useless mess. We're 16 going on 17, but you're never too old for Ice Age. NEVER. We also had some, um, 'interesting conversations' (I'm not harsh enough to put them here, and I also don't want to face the wrath of Sam and Curtis, particularly Sam...) and my toy owl, angry bird (as in the game, and yes it squawks when you squeeze it) and toy Manny the mammoth from Ice Age were flung out the window - there was mission 'rescue the toys' once they were gone. T'was a fun afternoon!

So yeah, had a good afternoon with Sam and Curt :) This evening though, whilst babysitting and procrastinating doing work and getting paid to do so, I'm 'putting my foot down' so to speak. It's part of my whole resolution made recently to make the most of my life - and I'm not in the sense of working hard. In the sense of actually putting effort into things, I work at about 25% motivated at the most, and at this rate I am going to fail my AS-Levels. I have an Art Coursework deadline next week which I am utterly screwed for unless I work, a fair few essays to write for English and History, and Biology work to do. It's time to actually start working, and although it does suck, if I don't I won't do well and then won't be making the most of my life which is a great education I'm privileged to have, the possibility of Higher Education, good job prospects etc etc... So this is Sarah, turning over a new leaf, oh dear we'll see how long this resolution lasts...

Of frozen peas and antibiotics

I currently have an abscess. A few days ago, before I got treatment, it was very painful. Now it's not painful so much as darn irritating.

What is an abscess?

Well an abscess is a disgusting sac of pus, essentially, inside my gum above the roots of my teeth. Understandably, my mouth is very disgruntled and annoyed about it being there, so has decided to swell up a huge amount. In the past few days I have been compared to a neanderthal, 'smacked in the face with a frying pan' (I have charming parents), a monkey (thank you Curtis) and more recently, as the swelling has moved to more around my cheeks, a hamster. I am currently on antibiotics and it is helping, but still, I do not really resemble me much. I'm also holding frozen peas to my face for the majority of the day (at the risk of chilblains  according to our Doctor friend Bernhard, but I'll be fine. Probably) The swelling isn't painful anymore though, it's just darn irritating, and is solid as a rock on my upper lip - and I'm doing that typical thing of pressing it whilst thinking "Will it get better if I squash it" when in reality I'm probably worsening the problem.

I should probably explain how this has happened really. I have 6 fillings. One of those fillings is in my front teeth. Yes, I went through a several-year-long-phase of practically inhaling Coca-Cola, and only after that did we discover I have weaker enamel than most and that I had actually destroyed my teeth. You only get decay in your front teeth if there's a serious sugar problem... whoops; I apparently had a serious sugar problem... anyway, what we basically think's happened is the filling in my front tooth has crumbled a bit, bacteria's got into the tooth via a hole in the filling, the bacteria then moved upwards into my gum and WABAM an abscess was born, wreaking havoc for me.

This is day 3 of antibiotics though, and antibiotics are good THEY BE HELPING. As are the frozen peas. I've also made it so basically an entire bag of frozen peas Mum bought for cooking can't really be used for cooking anymore, whoopsadaisy....

Also, Sam and Curtis are coming round later (Ice Age film marathon day. Yes we're 16 and still watch kiddy films, what's your point) and my room still looks like a tornado's been through it. This is a potential problem but I HATE TIDYING MY ROOM....

Everything Is Different Now

This is technically my first post for everyone reading this, but it's not my first post really - I had several old blog entries which I deleted because they felt so pointless and to be honest didn't feel like they were written by me. They were also over a year old, were irrelevant, and didn't hold anything that really sings true to who I am now, so I deleted them. Apologies, but I assure you, you're not missing out on much. 

So what's with that title, 'Everything Is Different Now'? Well, I guess it's because of quite literally that - everything is different now. I don't view my life the same way I used to. Actually, scrap that, I don't view life in general the same way I used to. For a 16 year old, lately life has been exposed to me as the fragile thing that it is far more than most 16 year olds have to deal with. When did all this start? It started when two boys from my Sixth Form were killed in a car crash 3 months ago. One of them was in my year, but I didn't really know him - Harry. The other one was in the year above, and I'd known him basically my entire life, though in latter years we hadn't spoken - Ollie. It shook me to my core, that their lives, lives so full of potential, were just snatched away at the click of a finger; that someone I'd run round a primary school field with playing Team Tag and football with was just all of a sudden gone. That Harry, the boy who'd driven a tractor into the car park on the day of our Maths GCSE exam and got shouted at by the teachers (and applauded by us) was all of a sudden gone. My opinion on life, and what was important, was starting to change a great deal, but it's more recent events that shook this opinion right to the core and have made me really question life and making the most of it, and what is important to me. 

I have a friend, one of my best friends, called Rob. Since he was 10, he's been on and off fighting leukemia. He was in my Latin class all through Secondary School, and has been an incredible and hilarious friend to me - from playing basketball with our bags and the recycle bin in Latin (the teacher walked in just as we both threw our bags at the bin at the same time, we got hauled out and yelled at that 15 year olds were not meant to act this way), to late night texting about chocolate biscuits, relationships and the Universe, from spending a day of GCSE 'Study Leave' actually going back and forth to the shops and chasing each other round the field, to the Last Day of Year 11 up Wotton Hill when Rob had too much to drink and was sick and said to me "Ah! That lot of alcohol's up - now to get the next lot into me!" - through everything, he's just one of the best friends you could wish for. Hilarious, puts a smile on your face through everything, but you know he's there for you. You know he wants you to be happy, wants you to have what you want, wants to be there for you in any way he possibly can. You know that in him you can trust entirely and he will not let you down. 

In recent months, Rob contracted leukemia a third time - and this time, the final time. Because this leukemia is terminal. 2 weeks ago, he was told he has 3 weeks left to live and was moved from the Children's Hospital to a Hospice, essentially waiting till it happens. The stats are it will happen next week. I saw him on Wednesday with my friends Sam, Curtis and Anthony and the Hospice is lovely, it really is - it has way more facilities than the Hospital (which I've been to a fair few times) and he is happy there. It's unreal to think next week this could all be over, that Rob won't be here, and that statistically that's what's going to happen. I don't think it's fully hit me yet. Possibly because I'm scared for it to fully hit me, I don't know. Sam is his best friend, and I don't know how Sam is going to cope when he's gone. Rob's doing so well though - he was flipping and cooking pancakes for everyone at the Hospice on Tuesday when my friend Laura saw him (PANCAKE DAY) and when we saw him on Wednesday he was wandering around happily, looking like a lunatic in pyjamas and the duck hat I gave him, an 'official tour guide'. I don't get how that life can just be taken away so soon. 

I would type more, but I'm getting into reminiscent ramblings now which are slightly irrelevant to what I'm trying to say I think. I'm going to update this blog more. I really wish I'd updated it throughout visiting him, but I have those Tumblr posts to keep me going, to keep the memories. But basically, this is explaining my outlook on life. 

Rob won't be able to do all these things he wants to do, so I can say now bluntly that I am going to spend the rest of my life pretty much living for him. This is why I believe in grasping the day, doing something you want to do each day, not doing the whole "tomorrow" thing, because tomorrow is not guaranteed. I see life as a gift instead of a given now, because of how I've seen it be taken away. 

So that is why everything's different. Because I'm slowly watching one of my best friends die. This is an experience that is going to and actually is changing everything about how I see the world.

3rd February 2013, on your last day at the Hospital
before you moved to the Hospice, when me and
Sam came to visit;I gave you the duck hat (which you
truly seem to love) and a duck now named 'General
Quacksworth of the 5th Regiment'. That
afternoon was so hilarious, playing Lego LOTR,
building Lego LOTR, general banter, and you calling
Sam a Fuzzknuckle and a 'cheese eating surrender
monkeying French bufoon' <3

From that day of 'study leave' - if I could go back
to that day, buddy, I would, because that day
was perfect, when everything was good and
strong and healthy, and this sums up our
friendship; one of us doing something strange,
 the other one trying and failing not to laugh
at the oddity <3

Rob's inspiring, and incredible and overall the bravest person I know. Throughout everything, he's stayed so strong, continued to just hold true to who he is - he was in hospital, probably in a great deal of pain, but still bothered to text me a lot, wanting to know how things were going with me, despite the fact he's dealing with so much himself; he still cares. He's a huge gift in my life, and I love him to pieces. I don't want him to go. I know I don't have a choice, but I don't want him gone. But what I will do is live a life where I will try to not moan, to be content, and be glad of what I have as opposed to moaning about what I don't have. Hand on heart, Rob mi boi, I will do you proud - I hope I'm doing you proud right now when you're still here to see me.