Page 141 - She's One Crazy Lady!

Breast Unit at Kettering, you know, to teach them about thinking of and helping others, learn about the good work the nurses do, being a good citizen... and as a way of me saying thank you for the care I received. The positives of this are huge! The children would love it. We could call it ‘Silly Hats’.” My mind was racing. It would be “different.”
‘Silly Hats’ quite naturally became ‘Crazy Hats’ as time went by – the word ‘crazy’ rather more apt.
Marilyn looked at me with a despairing look. She knew me well. As my Learning Support Assistant at school, she knew how I loved unusual projects. She was right. But, more than anything, I believe this moment was meant to be. I loved art. I loved design – these were my subjects. I was also missing the children – dreadfully missing the children, and the staff. A little project such as this would keep us connected and me – busy. It would be light-hearted and fun, but it would also be very educational.
Despite friends and loved ones encouraging me to do all the things I had never had time for while I was receiving treatment and recuperating, I wasn’t in that frame of mind. I was restless and time dragged. I was not used to having so much time on my hands and virtually everyone I knew was at work; the days were long. My life, up until this time, revolved around school; it was my life. Now, I’d had enough of just sitting about and watching daytime television. I walked a lot but I had to do something practical that involved ‘people’, and this project seemed the perfect solution. What added to the frustration of being away from school were the calls from parents and colleagues telling me all was not well; they were not happy. It was heart breaking to hear this, knowing I was powerless to do anything about the problems they were having. I had been told by Governors to step back and take a back seat. All I could do was to reassure colleagues that all would be fine, to hang on in there and be patient. My resolve to get better and return there as quickly as I could was stronger than ever.
I was on a mission. The lightbulb had been switched on.
We left Debenhams that day, empty handed – our minds in overdrive. I say ‘our’, for Marilyn was really up for this; she loved projects too, and proved to be such a wonderful partner in crime and such a best friend in supporting me and in ensuring the idea became a reality and happened, trying her best to keep me in check. Ever since I first went to Highfields Marilyn so often came into school to help me at weekends, setting up a new library, her passion!
The seed had been sown – the lightbulb was on – all it needed was nurturing!
I talked about it with family and friends, who all accepted that, as crazy as it was, it could happen. Some tried to deter me, saying I should concentrate purely on coping with the treatment and looking after myself, but knew their efforts were futile.
“Glennis, by the time this kicks off, you’ll be going through chemo.” “Are you really up for this?”
“The seed had been sown – the lightbulb was on – all it needed was nurturing!
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