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"Why does she have a bag on her side?" is one question that someone asked about me, people have borked in front of me, and I've had more people than I can remember exclaim "ERGH!" at me. I was the one everyone stared at in the school changing rooms when it came to P.E and finally in my last year at school my P.E teacher and school nurse thought that I had a hernia and asked me to go to the doctors to get it looked at.

"It looks so abnormal for a girl of your age" is something that's stuck with me since I've left secondary school and it's something I've thought for many years of my life.

For the past eleven years I've had a lymph vascular malformation and most peoples response to that is "What?" To explain it simply normal blood vessels have stronger walls than the blood vessels in the lump that I have on the right hand side of my body.

When I was 6 years old I went over the handlebars when I was on a family bike ride onto a rock and hit my stomach. A bust lip and a sore stomach later, I was sat at home holding a strawberry sun lolly to my lip crying my eyes out every time that I caught it.

When I was 8 I'd built up enough courage to finally go to hospital to have an operation to remove what we thought were two fatty lumps. All I remember from the day I went into hospital is wearing a pair of green cotton pyjamas, my teddy mousey being given a name band which after all these years is still around it and watching the magic roundabout before I left the house.

Vascular malformations are also benign which means that it is not harmful. Most vascular malformations are never detected however if aggravated grow larger and can become prominent. The first aggravation of the lump was when I fell off my bike; the second was the biopsy that I had when I was eight years old.

Over the past three years I've been referred to three different hospitals and in total have seen 16 doctors and numerous amounts of nurses, as well as having two ultrasounds and two MRI scans,. I've had photographs taken of it to study the reduction in size because of the treatment caused, been asked to be part of a study into the psychological effects of vascular anomalies, had a chest x-ray and a chest test to see if everything was okay with my lungs all whilst trying to find a way to try and remove the lump. The last time I was in hospital I was also asked to be used for a case study due to my emotions being like a rollercoaster following the numerous times I've been told that there was nothing that the doctors could do for me.

This was until I was referred to see Mr Tobian Muir at James Cook University Hospital. Up until that day I was certain that I wasn't going to get any treatment and I was going to be stuck with this lump for the rest of my life. I went into the consultation room and I was so terrified of what was going to happen. As soon as Mr Muir walked into the room it was instantly different from any other consultation that I'd been in before. He asked me and my dad how we were and then asked if he could take a look at the lump. Afterwards he then asked me if I actually knew what it was that I had. I didn't know because no one had ever really told me what it was. He explained it to me as simply as the diagram that I've included in the article and suddenly it all made sense.

He then explained to me that I could receive IBI (Intralesional bleomycin injection) treatment. He explained all of the side effects to me and my dad and then said that I would have to have chest tests to see if everything was okay with my lungs as bleomycin may affect them. I underwent these tests and then went back to speak to Mr Muir three months later, after they had decided upon a dosage that was suitable for me. I was overwhelmed completely by this visit as I actually got to see how big the lump was. On the surface I thought that it was large but on the inside it goes further than I originally thought. As I looked at the MRI scans I was sat open mouthed, everything that Mr Muir was saying was going straight over my head and I just couldn't believe that I'd gotten somewhere with the whole thing. A few moments later he asked me "Would you like to start the treatment?" and a feeling of excitement rushed over me. I jumped at the chance and I went into hospital for my first course of treatment on 28th December. Now I know what most of you are probably thinking but it was the best Christmas present that I'd received. A week and a bit later I could already notice a difference as the lump had reduced in size. I was over the moon and already had a lift in my confidence. I couldn't wait to go back into hospital for my next course of treatment.

I've already had my second course of treatment and I can notice another reduction in size. I'm now waiting for my third course of treatment and I can't wait. My confidence is slowly becoming better and I'm less self conscious of the clothes that I wear. My attitude towards the lump being there has completely changed as well. If people notice, no longer do I get upset at the fact I just think, they've noticed and I ask them if they want to know more about it. I'd rather that people asked me about it than just stare at me and go ergh.

Anyone that's friends with me will tell you that I'm the one that always has a smile on their face, that I'm the one that's always there to dish out the advice. However, without even realising, I've become more self conscious as the lump has grown bigger and bigger. I became more aware of the clothes that I was wearing and constantly thought about what other people were thinking about me. When I was on holiday in Spain my mum had bought me an array of gorgeous bikinis to wear. I walked round for most of the holiday with my arms crossed over my stomach. I had walked past a group that were my age at the time and they stared and pointed at me; I hated wearing a bikini and swore that I'd never do it again. I won't buy or wear outfits that I personally think show off my side too much even if another person will say to me that I look nice in it.

The one time that I did realise that I had self esteem issues was when I went to medical illustration to get photographs taken of my side - so that we could look back at the photographs after the treatment and see the reduction in size. Standing in my bra and some trendy NHS trousers having a photograph taken of me, I wondered how many people were going to look at the photograph and how many people would think "ergh" as soon as they saw it. Instantly memories of people's reactions came flooding back to me and all of a sudden it hit mewhy was I so bothered about what people were going to think of me? That was the first time I admitted to myself that I had a problem with my self esteem.

My family, including my sister who doesn't even like hospitals, have always been there for me throughout all of this, have been there for every single appointment and have taken many different kinds of verbal abuse from me when I've been in pain, if I haven't slept or if I've just been scared. I can't thank them enough for everything they do for me.

Out of all of my friends there is one that I cannot thank enough for letting me wet her shoulder and cover it in tonnes of mascara, and that's my best friend. She's always been there to cheer me up with Pringles and galaxy chocolate or hugged me when I've been scared, and over all of the years that I've known her has told me that it would all work out in the end - she was right.

It's going to be another 6-8 months before my treatment is over. It's going to be a struggle, I'll have up days and down days, I'll have more days where I'm in pain and I won't want to do anything but I know at the end of this, I'll have my friends and family to get me through it.

Life's hard and there are people out there with worse things happening to them. There are men and women being killed in Iraq, there are people that are fighting and dying because of terminal illnesses and there are people that have gone through life without being able to receive the treatment that I have. I just think myself lucky that this is all that I have to cope with and that I'm lucky enough to be able to receive the treatment.

Jessica Hopper.

8:27pm Thursday 31st January 2008

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