Tuesday 13 December 2016

Feeling Grateful

Well my Bloglets,

I wrote recently about working for myself and the challenges of setting up your own business and doing something that very few have heard about or understand. 

So today I thought I would share with you (with permission) an example of what makes me persevere. What makes me get out of bed. What has meant I haven't given up. 

I had a patient recently who had IBS and psoriasis which so often go hand in hand. They were also pregnant and had a hormone imbalance that was affecting the baby's growth meaning the baby was small. 

Whilst they saw me we did a lot with diet, as well as things to do at home to reduce inflammation and stress; and I also gave regular reflexology treatments. I do at this point have to flag how great this patient was at doing everything I suggested. 

They had regular blood tests and scans to monitor the baby and after a few sessions with me they were told their hormones were fine again and that the baby's growth was normal. 

They ended up having a very complicated birth and it was touch and go for a while with the baby. I am so delighted and overjoyed and overwhelmed to say that the baby is still with us. And all the NHS staff said it's because the baby was no longer small and the hormone balance had be re-addressed. If the baby had been small it would be a terribly tragic story. 

I am so grateful to my science degree and regardless of how intuitive I am, and how much I listen to my 'gut feeling' I ALWAYS look at the science and clinical research and what the body is doing at a biochemical level. 

I am so grateful that I persevered and completed my degree and didn't drop out. 

I am so grateful that this patient came to me and trusted me in their pregnancy. Trusted me with the health of them and their unborn baby. 

I am so grateful they were compliant and did everything asked. 

I am so grateful they came to me and I was able to save that little baby. 

I am so grateful that they will all be together this Christmas. 

That baby will always be my little miracle baby. 

With love and hope,
XxX

Thursday 10 November 2016

Two Years of being a Naturopathic Physician

I graduated today two years ago.  Two years ago I started my business.  I had this plan of direction that I had devised during a module at Uni called ‘Starting Your Practice’ and I was told that it was achievable and the time frames were right etc.  I have over the last two years discovered that the lecturer who taught us, in actual fact, had no fucking idea about the realities of starting your own practice and all the advice and the essays and research done in that module was a complete waste of time.  It has been hard letting go of that as it was the last module to be done, with huge assignments that took hours when I was at breaking point, and to realise it was all a load of shit.  Well.  That was hard.


The first year was expensive.  Getting ready for being in business and everything that that entails.  Paying for things like literature to be printed, website made, domain name bought, insurance, multiple regulatory body payments made so I could register with the CNHC as part of the elite in this country, buying equipment for patients and god knows what else all adds up.  I also did more training after I made the decision to specialise in mother and baby so I’m safe to look after them and to be able to offer specific treatments for them. 

I’m now ready for clients.  I can see how I can be of benefit.  I know I am well qualified.  And then the realisation of how the hell do I get them?  Why don’t more people want to see me? Why don’t they understand how I can help and spending the money with me will be so much better than what they are doing at the moment?  Why has someone said they want to see me and not book in?  At what point do I become harassing rather than nudging to see if they will actually book in?  Where are the referrals they said they had for me?  And then.  I got bullied out of the flat I was living in and had to move back to my parents outside of London. 

It was weird.  I didn’t really tell anyone I had moved in terms of all the networking I do or when meeting potential people to do collaborations with etc, but it was like the Universe knew.  In my first year I had the grand total of 4 Naturopathy patients.  Four.  FOUR.  I was told that I would easily have one or two a week.  A WEEK. 

I think it was around September 2015, so 10 months in that I had a complete wobble.  Was I doing the right thing? Had I made a massive fucking mistake?  Should I just go and get a ‘proper job?’.  Having to defend, or rather, feel like I had to defend why I had so few clients and didn’t work part time for someone else to at least have some regular money coming in. It’s so hard when you have people who love and care for you giving you business advice when they have only ever been employees, because in the nicest possible way, they have NO idea what it’s like to a) set up your own business on your own and B) have a job that no one knows what it is.  Even them.  But I’m determined and I did not accrue all that debt from another degree, work that hard, nearly destroy myself in the process to become a civil servant or similar.  Obviously there’s nothing wrong with being a civil servant… I hear the pension is very good!

So I kept going.  Doing just what I do.  I don’t have the energy levels to do one thing for half the week and then do everything I need to do for my business to get it going the rest of the time.  No one quite understands, unless they have it, the impact of chronic fatigue on working full time, every day, no breaks, because that’s what happens when you are self-employed.  When it’s your name.  When you are accountable to no one but you.  And if it fails, you fail.  I fail.  And that is not something I was prepared to do.

I joined a coaching programme for a year – the first 6 months were brilliant and really helped me, the second 6, not so much.  But at least I tried and I gave it a shot. 

And then I moved back to London.  A very generous loan from a family member meant that I could come back as they leant me 6 month’s rent so I could get back on my feet.

And then it’s like something happened.  Well something did happen.  I began to have clients.  People booking in.  Referrals have started.  Ok, so I’m not earning big money, but I have a fairly constant amount coming in every month.  The networking that I have been doing for the last 2 and a half years is really beginning to pay off.  I’m getting good results with those who are in the groups.  They are beginning to understand what I do and see how it’s of benefit.  They don’t raise their eyebrows when I say how much I cost. 

I’ve joined a co-working space.  This has saved my soul.  I’m surrounded by people who have started their own companies.  Some like me are fairly small and new, others are much bigger with staff.  I now go to work and as much as possible I leave my laptop in my rucksack when I get home.  Home is now home and chill.  Ok, I might do a fair amount of emails on my phone and social media stuff, but if it’s on my phone it doesn’t feel like work so much.  And yes, I am often at work.life the co-working space on a Saturday and Sunday doing admin or patient research or whatever else I need to do but I can mooch in after a really lovely 40 minute walk down Columbia Road and Broadway Market to London Fields or it’s 7 minutes on the train from Liverpool Street.  And I can chat to people and have that interaction that I didn’t have when I was working from home.  As my energy levels are as always a bit of a challenge, I would often work all day at my laptop on the sofa, speak to no one other than my parents on the phone, then stop working around 8pm.  Watch something shit on catch up, still on the sofa and then go to bed.  This is not healthy.  So whilst being here, at work.life is an added outgoing that is slightly stressful, the people I meet here make it worth it. I’m also doing a monthly massage clinic and talks on what I do so I’m sure it won’t be long before I get a few clients from here.  And they have fun events with great independent companies and food start-ups and everything that I’m into.

A few weeks ago, and ok it’s a first so far, I earnt £700.  (In my first year I think I earnt about £1700).  I’m sure it won’t be long until it’s a regular amount coming in.  Also in the last week I have been asked to write a monthly blog post for a mother’s website and they are also going to feature me and my services.   I’m also launching a City clinic with my mother and I’m sure it’s going to do really, really well.

So the last two years have had many many lows and I’ve probably cried at least a paddling pool’s worth of tears.  Wondering how the hell I’m going to pay my rent, the rent for the clinic rooms that I have, the heating, for food, for supper on the rare occasion I go out with my friends.  Wondering when I’m going to get a break and see that it’s all been worth it.  But.  Over the last 6 months the highs have definitely started to outweigh the lows.  And I am so glad that I stuck with it. 

Being self-employed, as a Naturopathic Physician, is the hardest thing I have ever done.  But it gives me the freedom and flexibility to co-run and attend monthly networking meetings which have made my business what it is, and to also help my sister out with childcare.  I get to spend two or three days a month with my niece who is now two and a bit.  Those days are so precious to me and no matter how shit everything is.  Making her laugh and getting cuddles from her.  Well.  There are no words. 

I also recently had a pregnant patient with IBS which they had had for 17 years and really struggled with it.  After 6 sessions they said I fixed them.  To see a parents face relax and light up as their baby changes from screaming with a colicky tummy to smiling as I gently talk them through the tummy routine in a baby massage class.  To be sent photos of new born babies after you have looked after both baby and mother during pregnancy with reflexology and massage.  Well.  What else would I want to spend my time doing?!

So this is the most incredibly long brain vomit about my second work anniversary, and I hope in a year’s time, my business has done the same amount of growth as it has this year, if not more.  And if you don’t know what a Naturopathic Physician is:
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Wednesday 2 November 2016

Thoughts. Some are angry.

Thoughts start popping into my head around this time. November.  The days are getting shorter.  The weather is getting colder.  My birthday is on the horizon.  My cancerversary is around the corner.  I remember my 22nd birthday and Christmas clearly.  My last cancer free ones.  Or rather, before I knew it was there.

I was never fussed about my birthday and in some ways I still aren’t. But.  Niggling thoughts have started.  To get one thing clear before I go any further.  I don’t by any means feel old.  I know I am not old.  I am not bothered by the grey hair that I have, in fact, I really rather like it.  This may be because most people think I’m in my mid 20s, not nearly 32.  The one thing that bothers me is that I’m nearly 32.

32 is no great age I know.  And in some ways I am lucky to have reached this age and will continue to get old.  My cancer diagnosis has never meant that I have had to question my mortality or plan my funeral or wonder what life will be like without me.  Or wonder how it feels to have limited time to try and do everything.  And not get angry that it will be taken away from me.  Death, from my cancer diagnosis, was never an option really.  Not once I started responding to the oral chemo I take daily and a bone marrow transplant was taken off my check list of things to do.  But I feel that my diagnosis has in some ways taken things away from me.

Maybe my life would have been like this anyways, I don’t know though, so I do wonder.  My parallel universe.  Flat owned, married, baby or pregnant.  These are thing things I thought I would have by now.  Things that so many of my friends have.  Things that my sibling have, or at least tick one or two of those boxes.  These are the things that really matter to me.  And they are the things I don’t have.

I think it’s because of my diagnosis and because I don’t drink.  Friends say I’m mental to think that.  If it isn’t those two things it means it’s simply me that isn’t attractive.  It’s me that boys don’t want to be with.  It’s me that isn’t the one that someone wants to spend the rest of their life with.  And well.  That’s fucking shitty in all honesty.  So I think it’s my cancer and being sober.

And I know, I know, the right one is just around the corner…..and has been for years now so if they could hurry the fuck up that would be nice.  The clock is ticking.  My baby clock.  Not that I could have one now.  No way can I have a year off treatment at the moment. Cancer has taken that away from me.  I hope to god and the universe that it hasn’t taken my baby/babies away from me forever.  That would be devastating.

And the one.  I think I’ve met them, I know I have.  But not for me.  Not in this life, and that’s so hard to deal with.

All these thoughts around this time.  Melancholy and it’s not just winter arriving.

My parallel universe.  I wonder if that Katie is happy there.  Does she like her job?  Is her relationship happy?  Is the flat nice?  Do these things matter? Should they matter?
I don’t know.

And then it’s Movember and October was breast cancer awareness month.  Like testicular cancer and breast cancer need any more advertising and awareness.

Do you know what Chronic Myeloid Leukaemia is?  Well you should do because it’s what I have.
Do you know what non-Hodgkin lymphoma is?
Do you know what myeloma is?  And no.  It’s not skin cancer.
Chronic Lymphocytic Leukaemia?
These are all blood cancers.  The 5th most diagnosed and 3rd biggest killer.

And a friend of mine has lung cancer.  The biggest killer, 10% survive and it has the least funding.  And this.  Well it makes me angry.

And I know it’s all tied up to me and my shit and my diagnosis of a ‘lucky’ cancer that ‘doesn’t impact’ and I look fine and I’m not going to die so I’m not allowed to have the same opinion as others, and I can’t get upset that others who were older than me at diagnosis feel aggrieved that they were the age they were even though by that point I had been living with it for years.  It fucks me off I have to defend my opinion and feelings on what it’s life for ME LIVING WITH CANCER EVERY FUCKING DAY OF MY LIFE.


And I will be able to cope with this if I don’t end up childless and on my own. If cancer does that to me.  Well.  At this point I have no words.