My time at Hogwarts

Gosh, two weeks of silence… well sadly I did not get to stay at Hogwarts, though I tried my best! Returning to the real world has been pretty depressing – once you’ve run down Diagon Alley, Swindon high street just ‘aint the same.

Sadly most of the best photos (i.e. all the ones with me posing!) were taken on other people’s cameras, so will have to post them another time. In the meantime though, here’s a little bit of magic for your Friday afternoon

The cupboard under the stairs

'Harry was used to spiders, because the cupboard under the stairs was full of them, and that was where he slept.'

The Great Hall! My sister got overly excited at this point of the tour and we may have ended up re-creating the infamous ‘Troll in the dungeon!’ scene… complete with dead faint at the end… (and I wonder why they wouldn’t let me stay…)

  

The Gryffindor common room - how gutted was I that those stairs didn’t actually go anywhere!

The boys dorm – actually felt a bit naughty being in there! Not sure girls are allowed…

Dumbledore’s pensieve… Cannot stress how badly I need one of these at the moment!

This was actually the greatest optical illusion of the day – a corridor in the Leaky Cauldron – actually only goes back about three feet! That door at the end is tiny!

  

Diagon flippin’ Alley! The cobblestones are very uneven. Think twice before you decide to run the length of it.

We all had our pictures taken outside out favourite shops. Annoyingly these pictures are on my sister’s camera! My picture was outside Flourish & Blotts, naturally!

Magic is Might at the Ministry…

I also paid a visit to the Dursleys…



Hello? Social services calling…



I feel a little context is needed for what happened next… It was the end of a long day, I was tired, probably over excited, and already wishing that I never had to go home…

Throughout the tour they had been playing music from the films, and as I was making my way through a corridor full of the most amazing tiny models I have ever seen, surrounded by some stunning artwork, over the sound system came Patrick Doyle’s Hogwarts Hymn (from the Goblet of Fire… where Cedric dies… anyone see where this is going?)  

I looked up to see that I had lagged behind (again) so jogged down the rest of the corridor, turned a corner and was faced with this.

I did what any life-long Potter nerd would do.

I, um...cried.

Yep. Actual tears. And then I laughed, and then I made the tour guide take a picture of my whole family outside Hogwarts while the tears were fresh on my face! (Grrr – again I do not have this photo!)

I have to confess that these last few pictures are not mine – my memory card was full by then, I sent my brother off on photo duty whilst I gazed in wonder until I had to be asked to leave!

On the way home I knew how Harry must have felt going back to the Dursleys every summer.

Was pretty much the best day of my life!

All you Potter fans, go, go! You will not be dissapointed! Though you may become completely dissillussioned with your own hum-drum lives.

Bye for now!

Laura

I’M GOING TO HOGWARTS!!!!!

I had a lovely sensible post all line up for today, but it’s been bumped because I’m far too excited to talk about sensible things!

Firstly, if you are not aware of the extent of my Harry Potter obsession take a look here, then, if you are brave enough, come back for the rest of this post.

I’ve loved Harry a long time. A good twelve years and counting! Not only was I one of those fruitcakes who camped out till midnight to get the latest book, on more than one occasion I was first in line!

My sister and I have had endless conversations on our imaginary lives at Hogwarts. I would have been a Ravenclaw, Jo fears she’d have been a Hufflepuff. My Patronus would have been an elephant (awesome for stomping on Dementors, less effective at delivering stealth messages…) Jo’s Patronus was a hedgehog – curling up into a ball at the first sign of danger and having to be rolled into battle like a prickly bowling ball.

Neither of us fancied becoming an animagus – I always thought it sounded too much like hard work, and what if at the end of it all you turned into was a slug?

We both agreed that we’d have got into as much trouble as Harry though – how could you live in a castle full of secret passageways and not go exploring at two in the morning?

Well, after all these years of dreaming, we are finally off to Hogwarts!

Tomorrow I shall be boarding a train (sadly not the Hogwarts Express) and heading to the Leavesden studios for the Harry Potter tour! Quite frankly it’s taking all my willpower right now not to run around the office waving a wand and shouting EXPECTO PATRONUM at fellow employees!

If I get my own way, I will stay there forever. I  wonder if work will allow me to conduct business via Owl Post…

I think perhaps I will be forced to leave at some point though, so will be around next week to report back (and of course post about a thousand photos!)

Well that’s it. I’m off to pick my sister up from the station before we head off home to embark on a Harry Potter movie marathon!

Have a good weekend Muggles!

Life contemplation, Lefty style

Well this is it. My last post as a Twenty-Nine year old!

Any attempts to let this birthday slide by quietly were scuppered this morning when I walked into work to find my desk covered (and I mean covered) in banners, balloons and glitter.

People I don’t even know are currently wishing me a happy birthday as they pass by my desk! (It’s actually not till Tuesday folks!)

So for this week’s post I thought maybe I should contemplate the milestone that is turning 30.

You know, assess my life so far, decide what I want for the future do some soul searching and bare my feeling to you all…

Yeah… needless to say I got no further than three lines into that before I abandoned it in favour of Hollyoaks and half a packet of chocolate buttons…

Turns out my desk this morning sums it all up better than I ever could. Glitter, sparkles and lovely surprises. (Oh and a card that quotes Shakespeare. Well done people!)

Who cares where my life is heading? Who cares where it’s been? So long as there is birthday cake all is right with the world (There is cake, right? Someone has remembered cake? Mum?)

I have a week off work now to lounge about and enjoy myself (you know the usual - reading, writing, watching America's Next Top Model...) but my real birthday treat isn't until the 16th June, where I will be heading off to the Harry Potter studio tours!

Yep. This is what real grown-ups do on their birthdays!

Am quite ridiculously excited about this - have been dreaming of running amok in Diagon Alley since I was seventeen! I promise pictures and stories galore when I get back (unless of course I just decide to live there forever...)

In other news, I had a lovely message yesterday telling me I had been nominated for a Versatile Blogger award!

Watch this space for my own nominations – and thank you very much for the nomination Amy!

Hope you all have a fantastic Jubilee weekend, and I will catch up with you in a week!

Laura

PS – Don’t forget Race for Life is on the 9^th – you can still sponsor me here! Thanks!

Misplaced characters and missing cats

A few weeks ago, during a chapter re-write I decided I needed a certain character to turn up and look suitable shifty for a scene or two. Only when I looked I realised I had actually left him behind several chapters and a trek across the wilderness ago.

Bah.

I also can’t remember what I left him doing, and this is someone best not left to their own devices! Certain characters are prone to misbehaving, wandering off and generally causing trouble…

But never fear, post-it notes to the rescue – I decided to map everybody’s whereabouts throughout the story, and hallelujah for funky stationary, I managed to get a different coloured post-it for each character!

The wall in my spare room now looks like something out of an episode of CSI, but I am pleased to report I found my missing character (up to no good as predicted) and will be keeping a beady eye on him in the future.  

If only this little guy were so easy to find.

If you spotted my broken-hearted tweets this week you’ll know that Brian Bear has disappeared.

He went missing early morning on Thursday 10^th May and we are rapidly losing hope that he will turn up alive and well. He’s never missed a meal in his life so we’re pretty sure he’s got himself trapped somewhere, and as the days tick by… well.

We’re all feeling pretty sad right now.

To make it worse, every night I’ve dreamt he’s come home, or that I’ve found him hiding somewhere daft. Makes getting up in the mornings a pretty miserable experience!

I miss his little white toes :-(

And on that note I wish you all a happy weekend. If you have pets give them all an extra squeeze from me.

Laura

A Race Worth Running

A few months ago I blogged about my idea for this years Race for Life. My aim was not only to raise as much money as I could but to also cover my t-shirt with the names nominated by my sponsors. You can find the original post here.

There’s no denying that Race for Life is a very emotional affair, and for those who have lost someone to cancer it be a very therapeutic experience.

However it’s not all sadness, lets not forget that the race is primarily a fundraiser! A fundraiser which goes on to support Cancer Research, which means better treatment options for those who find themselves fighting The Big C.

One person facing such a fight is Gail Lautieri, and this is her story.

I was diagnosed with cancer of the kidney in November 2011. After a long ten week wait I had a radical nephrectomy on January 16, 2012. From the histology, the tumour was classed as grade 4 and, at a whopping 10cm, you can imagine how grateful I was that my fabulous surgeon was able to do the op laparoscopically. There is only one thing more shocking than being told you have cancer, and that is being told you have secondaries. My follow up scan 6 weeks later revealed lung mets on both sides with numerous spots. I was advised by my consultant in Cheltenham that I would be prescribed Sutent, a type of chemotherapy, to try to keep it stable.

Prognosis? On average they give you a couple of years on it before it becomes ineffectual – then what?

As some of you will know, I've been researching my cancer and the possible treatments available for it with the painstaking meticulousness of a prospector panning for gold. Knowledge is power and when death stares you straight in the face, you would do anything to hang on to life.

Through my research I found two cancer forums, one here in the UK and one in the States. Both offered invaluable info and support and more than anything, the word we all cling to - HOPE.

The treatment everyone on the forums was shouting loudest about was HDIL-2: High-Dose Interleukin-2. A tough treatment done widely in the US but very hard to find in the UK. For some it has even offered long term remission, for others it doesn't work. My research showed a glimmer of hope. I was pointed in the direction of Professor Robert Hawkins, of the Christie Hospital in Manchester (UK) one of our top renal specialists and I fought hard to get a referral up to see him.

The day of my consultation with 'the Prof' (as he is fondly known by his staff and those who have been treated by him), was a glorious cloudless blue. It felt like the first day of summer – in the South of France. It was also the day when I knew that this was my chance to try to regain my life. It just felt right... I knew that, as tough as it sounded, this was the treatment I had to try.

Through this entire process I have discovered I have an indomitable determination to live. I have found reserves of energy and positivity I never thought I had.  So much of this I owe to the incredible support I have been receiving from my family, friends and people I've encountered out-and-about and online. The journey so far has been – both painful and inspirational. I have witnessed the very best of human kindness, and a love and care I thought only existed in dreams.

A phone call Thursday confirmed that I had passed all the stress tests and that my tissue type matched the required profile... So I was offered the one bed that would be allocated for HDIL-2 treatment – starting Monday April 16th. 

This news filled me with excitement, gratitude and dread. I scrambled to book up accommodation for Franco (my husband); organised my daughters to ensure their week 'home alone' would be as straightforward as possible; got the shopping in, and tried to remember everything else that would be needed to ensure 'week one' of treatment in Manchester would go as well as it could.

Back to the treatment, (for the squeamish of you, look away now as I explain what I am about to put myself through). A week as an inpatient receiving 8 hourly doses of HDIL-2 through a PICC line right into my heart. The treatment is known as immunotherapy (or bake, shake and flake – as it's known in the US!). Basically, it's trying to kick start my own immune system into killing the cancer cells. During this time the side effects I can expect are the rigors, fever, flu like aches and pains, nausea, vomiting, hallucinations, skin peeling, headaches, water retention, weight gain, low blood pressure and a risk to both my heart and lungs. Not very jolly – but the alternative? After week one, I have a week back home, followed by a second week back in hospital, when this is repeated all over again. Then I am back home for 2 months, after which time, I'll be scanned and then the cycle starts all over again. This could continue for over a year if treatment is showing to be working.

This right here is why I run every year. This is why fundraising is so important – to provide hope.

You can find Gail’s own blog here. Currently updated by husband Franco it very poignantly details the progress of Gail’s HDIL-2 treatment.

And you can find my Just Giving page here.

Thanks for reading and have a good week folks,

Laura

All Quiet on the Lefty Front...

Nothing to report this week, but please come back on monday when I will have a rather special post indeed.

Have a good weekend!

Laura

Conversations with my Mother

I mentioned to my mother that my lawn was getting out of control with all this rain and that I needed to get some kind of garden strimmer to keep it in check.

Mum: Would you not be better off getting a lawnmower?

Me: Where would I keep a lawnmower? Besides the garden is tiny, a strimmer will do won’t it?

Mum: Hold on let me ask your dad (muffled voices during which the phrase ‘what does she need a lawnmower for?’ can be heard loudly) Well dad says a strimmer would be fine, but well… do be careful.

Me: I will, I’m sure they’re not that dangerous

Mum: No, but you need to be extra careful don’t you

Me: I do?

Mum: Yes, what with you being left handed and all.

Me:...?

Mum: Because you are very left handed dear.

Me: Mum I’m sure I can cope with a garden strimmer!

Mum: Sweetheart you say that but you can’t even use a can opener.

I would like to mention at this point that she is in fact correct. Had ring-pull tins not been invented I would be living in a world without alphabet spaghetti.

Me:…Okay I’ll be careful. Bye

Mum: Bye my devil child

Hang on, devil child????? Cheers ma.

Have a good weekend folks, and I’ll try my best not to cut my feet off with a garden strimmer.