Cats, hats and everything cute I'm definitely a cat person! I think cats are the IDEAL pet, they're loving (despite the rumours,) they don't need walking because they're too lazy, they look adorable and they shit in other people's gardens so you don't have to go around picking it up! So anyway as a gift my parents bought me a book of hats for cats, where you can cut different hats out(examples include a cupcake, a crown and Santa's hat) and stick them on your cats head. It literally gives me hours of entertainment, hilarious pictures and a purring pet.

Not to sound depressing about the whole 'cancer situation' my unique and original name for my current #life problem. But me and my family became very close through that time and although it was incredibly stressful, shit and scary for a 15/16 year old to go through, we also had some hilarious memories and I had a real sense of making the most out of my #life. But it was fucking shit.

Everyone says that experiences define who we are. Good or bad. And I'd say I've experienced my fair share of both in all of my 17 years on this planet. One of the most prominent moments that i truly thought would probably change the person I would become in one form or another was finding out that my Grandad had cancer. You hear stories of that moment in adverts and on the TV, even from others but the truth never really matches the expectation. It was 2011 and I had just finished my GCSE exams when my Dad approached me whilst i was watching TV in the lounge, in a shifty manner with a nervous expression splashed across his face. I don't really remember exactly how he broke the news but I remember feeling an enormous rush of fear and panic that hit me like a wave of shit. The next 6 months my Grandad underwent chemotherapy over Christmas time and the last one was just before his birthday (perfect timing.) I remember he had to wear one of those awful fishing hats that provided us some light entertainment through what was honestly the scariest time of my #life. Just before his birthday in February, finally, we found out everything went well and he was given the all clear (possibly the biggest relief we could've been given.) Needless to say we all drank A LOT of alcohol at that birthday meal... well from what I can remember of it. Then 2 years later, just after I finished my AS exams and just before we were going on holiday to Africa (are you beginning to feel a sense of déjà vu occurring?) we found out the cancer had spread from his bowel to his liver and that he had to have an operation to remove part of his liver. Cue tears. He was then told it seemed to have gone well, even though he spent two weeks in HDU everything seemed a little better and I was still clinging on to a thread of hope that had lasted from my continuous fear that this one day may arrive. Yesterday we got that news. The operation hadn't got rid of it all and he is due to go for another 6 months of chemo (around Christmas time-again) however this time they are going to see how it goes and decide whether it's worth continuing with treatment. All I can say whilst I'm still in the state of numbness and-the thing that I am scarily good at-pretending it's not true is to enjoy your #life to the fullest you can because you never know what's round the corner! (Or how many corners there will be...)