You can shed tears that Sarah has gone
you can smile because she has lived

You can close your eyes and pray she’ll come back
you can open your eyes and see all she has left

Your heart can be empty because you can’t see her
you can be full of the love that you shared

You can turn your back because of before
you can be happy tomorrow because of before

You can remember her and only she’s gone
you can cherish her memory and let her live on

You can cry, close your eyes, be empty, turn back
you can do all those things you know she would want:-

Smile – Open your eyes – Love – and Go on.

Celebration of Sarah's Life

There will a Celebration of Sarah’s Life in St Swithun’s Church, Yateley, Hampshire on Monday 29 March 2010 at 11.30hrs

Family floral tributes only thank you, and instead of any additional flowers we ask anyone who would like to to donate, in Sarah’s name to: The Wish List (Poole General Hospital’s charity)


Sarah's funeral

Sarah’s funeral will be held at 13:13 on Thursday 25th March 2010 at St Joseph’s Presbytery, Poole, Dorset, BH14 9AZ. All are invited to celebrate Sarah’s life: please feel free to be colourful!

The family will be giving floral tributes and we ask that instead of further flowers, anyone who would like to to donate please contact The Wish List (Poole General Hospital charity) in her name.

Every member of staff that Sarah came into contact with at the hospital has been amazing, and Sarah asked that any money raised go to this charity http://www.justgiving.com/SarahpashHowells

News you didn't want…

It’s with a heavy heart that we have to let everyone know that after marrying her sweetheart Neil in a beautiful ceremony yesterday afternoon, Sarah succumbed after contracting pneumonia a few days ago and passed away at around 6.00 yesterday evening. She was surrounded by her family and friends at her passing.

Thank you

Comments from people you love really do help even though I don’t respond.

And a good parp.

And having a bath and being able to get out unassisted. Falling the other day and not being able to get up knocked me a bit and as I struggled the other day to get out of the bath, I thought I might have to call on Neil’s detained persons training. Fortunately that was not required as in finding out what that training is called, I have found they are training to do with 2 persons. eeeeek. Note to self, get the F better so never required. Frodo you’re in for it.

What is it?

I am pissed off today. I feel rubbish. I was on my way to feeling better, or so I thought. I was convinced that the reduction of steroids, a load of PMA blah blah was getting me there. But today my head feels no less woolly than it did when I woke up, I am knackered and feel yuk. Coughing and the pain in my rib where I fell when I do is not helping by any means, but I could put up with that cos I know why and that it’s temporary.

It has dawned on my that I am back on chemo and today I wonder whether this is the side effects. I hope not. I hope it’s just a blip. I’ve got a long way to go on the tablets and I am really rather bored of feeling like this. Especially when I had such high hopes of starting to feel more normal.

There is nothing I can do but find a way for the PMA to come through. But today, I’m not quite sure how I am going to do that when this is how I feel. But find a way, I will. I DO have so much to be grateful for and I know that but I beat myself for ‘can you pass me this’ ‘can you do that’ for anyone who is on their feet anywhere near me. It scares me that that will only get worse and I feel driven to try and find something to do about it. I am curious to ask people who are further on this journey than me, but I don’t want to scare myself, and as the docs keep telling me ‘everyone is different’ and PMA really does make a big difference to how patients progress. So I must find a way. I’ll allow myself the odd day of wallowing but I mustn’t give up on those days. Tomorrow will be better. I have to believe.

I think my biggest fear is that those I love and who love me will turn into my carers. I know I would do the same for them but that’s not the point.

Oh, I’m rambling and note saying anything productive. Maybe you guys who think I am so inspirational and positive can take heart in that I am a real person and today it feels shit to have cancer. Bugger off Mr Frodo, you’re not welcome here.


As the sun sets, I look straight out onto Poole Harbour from my lounge. It’s been busy in the park today, with lots of dog walkers and kite flyers and I find myself wishing death. Not on myself or anyone, but on the tree in the neighbours garden! By the time those little buds come out, it will obcsure the view quite tremendously. How rude! It’s almost like is designed to block the view in between the evergreens in the park! Ho hum, it could be a lot worse! And the little birdies seem to be happy chirping around in it.

As for me today, I am a bit sick of this malarkey. The steroids are reducing, but my face is still very puffy and head very woozy and I’m tired. I can feel my moustache growing back despite sitting watching Blood Diamond last week, gently plucking with my fingers! A reduction of the steroids again tomorrow will hopefully be on the way to stopping the hair growth and reducing the bloating. My mobility is getting better. I am convinced that any pain I get is working is way up my body, soon to disappear out of my head. Currently in my back but only really painful first thing in the morning. I have a cough (which they checked was nothing to worry about the day) but that, of course is causing pain in my rib from when I fell over. Ho hum, A&E is on the TV and there is a lot more people in a lot more pain than me. So toughen up princess!!!!

Bad day yesterday

Last I remembered was typing an email. Which at the time, I thought I was typing fine.

Next thing I remember, Neil was up, the ashtray was all over the floor, as was my squash.

I’d writtten this:

“I have not is really black include a plus will pus but what I what I what coming today tonight, I as I as gut7rtgx yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeesssvdcc”

It worried me more that I didn’t remember what happened than the fact my brain is going to go do-lally now and again. I guess that what Mr Frodo does! So I called the hospital and they said get down there. ECG, blood tests, Xray. Pretty much every test under the sun. 3 hours I was there. Nothing wrong. Phew. Was also pleased to find out that my tickly cough is just a ticky cough and not Mr Frodo getting ideas above his station of getting worse in the chest.


So, as the hospital is just a spit away, I got Neil to come back and give me a lift home. He dropped me literally just at the end of the path. On coming in the front gate, it was dark and I must have managed to fall over my boot laces. I fell full weight on to my right ribs. Bloooooooooooody hell. I didn’t know what to do with myself. Scuffed hand and knee, too. But I couldn’t get up. Fortunately, my phone was in my pocket and I phoned Neil again and he came back.

It hurts. A lot. Worse cos I have got this stupid tickly cough.

Today the sun is out and I am going to do little admin things. But not too much in front of the laptop. It will be a good day.

Jimmy Carr and the Spaz

Jimmy Carr was flippin hilarious. I had twittered him to ask him for bald girl, cancer or police jokes and was very delighted to get 1 and 3. No cancer jokes. Perhaps he is going soft. Perhaps he couldn’t think of one. Perhaps I should send him one for the next attention seeking cow who wants to pretend he read her twitter and changed his whole show to encorporate her request. Yes. That’ll be a good idea.

We ate at Wetherspoons pre-show. The ponce in me says I shouldn’t eat in these places, but they are kinda nice. The stare-y lady from a few posts ago was in a Wetherspoons but I didn’t let that put me off. The only person who stared was a strange looking fella, like the Taff in Notting Hill but quite obviously weirder, and he was staring at everyone. I felt almost normal.

The seats at City Hall were green and obviously upholstered in green to match the oompa loompa’s they were expecting as guests. If your legs are longer than Meester Boo’s, (SJ’s sausage dog), but the DVD and save the agony. Chuffed at being able to walk up the stairs in the auditorium, almost to the top, without a handrail to pull myself, just Neil’s arm to steady me.

Yesterday I suffered a bit. Could have been the long day, could have been the incredibly small leg room. Could have been the fact I was supposed to take my steroid (down to 1 a day) in the morning and I left it at home. Anyhoo. My arse was doing it’s thing, along with my right leg and aching. So the beautiful day and walk to the catherdral was bearable but I couldn’t face walking round. I love being in catherdrals and churches (which I don’t have to be!) and the smell of them in particular. I find them peaceful but at the best of times, I don’t care which 700 year dead person I am walking on…let alone if I have to hurt to find out.

So – good idea for me to sit. People watch. Daydream. Smell the incense. Watch some filming going on. CLOCK THE WHEELCHAIRS!!!! Yeah baby. Lou and Andy, you don’t know nuffin! Neil’s in whistling distance still and gets called back. After not being able to open one of them, we go for the older model and we’re off. We respect the fact we are on holy ground and manage not to swear. But we do giggle. Quite a bit. I think that’s allowed.

Out to the cloisters, the effects of not taking my steroid enhance and my right eyeball feels like its spinning. Not moving, I tell you, spinning in it’s socket like a washing machine drum but over and over, not round and round. It messes up my vision but not before I see the lovely blue sky, cloister walls and cenut (cedar) tree (ask Mummy). It’s like a perfect garden.

I wasn’t scared like the first time it happenened (when I’d been ‘meaning’ to get up and switch the light on but not got round to it and let myself be lit by the TV and laptop screens. Eyestrain.). But I was glad the boy was around. I hadn’t considered what I’d do if it happens when I am out alone. Now I have and I feel prepared. Go to the pub for a Baileys. Ha ha. Seriously, I’d have to find somewhere to sit. For maybe up to half an hour. Tell someone what is going on. Tell them I’m fine but can they keep half an eye. Not in the stare-y, or maybe I could give them a voucher that permits them to do that without consequence for their safety. Yes, good plan.

Tomorrow I will be making stare-y vouchers. Without the use of a computer. Goodnight.

Bugger, behind schedule. Later today, I will be making vouchers. Godd morning. (ou est le time por favor)

Good, I mean. aaaagh. Bed time.

If you're not going to do it, don't ask

you frickin moron websites.

“would you like me to remember you?”

“ooooh…yes, please” responds Pash.

(website says in a whisper with a devlish tone) mwah ha ha ha ha..only if you use me within an hour or so. If you leave me for 12 hours or more I will forget you and force you to look at your listofmanypasswords. Which DOES, perchance, look like josephscoatofmanycolours and give me similar headaches.

Facebook have it right. Let you stay logged in for umpteen years but give you errors every other post. Yes, that’s the way.

I love internet. Nearly as good as by Blackberryapple phone.

I might write with a pen all day tomorrow, so if you don’t hear from me, worry not, it might be in the post.