Being rushed off our feet is a common occurrence for us since forming the Camille’s Appeal charity and of course since Camille was diagnosed. With hospital trips, infections, fundraising events, work and normal day to day life with two kids, it is very difficult to ever sit down and enjoy a relaxing book or watch TV without something drawing your attention away from the programme you are watching. This weekend was our big Bungee Fun Day weekend and once again we were bound to be exceptionally tired by the end of it.

After a week off chemotherapy and the meeting with Mr Garnett and Amos, Camille began her next cycle of chemotherapy this week and potentially the last before surgery. Each of these cycles lasts for four weeks which includes three consecutive weeks with three days of treatment in each week. The fourth week is a rest week so that Camille’s blood levels can recuperate before the next cycle.

Monday morning saw Hayley and I take Camille to Addenbrooke’s for her kidney test and MRI scan. On this occasion we had been dealt the perfect scenario where our scan would be viewed and discussed by Amos and Mr Garnett that very day and we would be able to stay on for a meeting in the afternoon. The morning and afternoon was like a military operation trying to get each element of the two tests organised in the correct order. The initial hiccup occurred as the doctors tried to get a cannula into Camille’s foot. She was beside herself with fear as the doctor poked and prodded her foot with the small needle.

Some weeks fly by and some seem to last forever. This week has most definitely been the latter. Hayley had to take Camille in early this week for chemotherapy and spent all day at Addenbrooke’s with her. While I was at home working I had a text from my brother-in-law asking if there was any news on Hayley’s brother. He had been having headaches and was being sick over night so I assumed that was what Shane was asking.

My mobile phone's alarm sounded at 5.10am ready for me to head off towards Bournemouth. Hayley was still a couple of hours away from waking up and after the night before, I was particularly nervous about leaving the house. The previous night I had run through as many scenarios as I could possibly imagine and setting off on time seemed to be the right option. My theory was that I could always turn around and go home if I needed to but I couldn't make up the time if I'd stayed at home until everyone was awake.

We’ve all felt low from time to time; like there is nowhere to go, no point to trying and that no matter what you do, there will be no preventing the worst possible outcome for you in that situation. I say “we’ve all felt” it, but the chances are very few of us will have even scratched the service of what it is to feel so low, that even the smallest change in circumstances, or a high pressure incident, will be the straw that breaks the camel’s back and cause a full scale breakdown.

We all learn from our previous experiences and the events that have scared us down to the core of our bodies rarely happen again due to our ability to carefully avoid a repetition. So, this week saw Camille’s first infection since the septic shock episode in May, and this time we were quick, cautious and thorough.

It may well be hard to concentrate fully on the blog this week as my eyes flit between my laptop screen and the World Cup Final flashing in my peripheral vision. It’s a welcome break sitting down in front of the television after another hot day with the kids.

After only a week on the new chemotherapy protocol, it seems that we have already managed to get into some sort of rhythm. In all fairness it’s not actually me that has anything to do with the rhythm as Hayley now tackles all of the hospital visits by herself with Camille, an arrangement that we just had to put into place after Camille’s septic shock episode. So now, three times a week, Camille goes to Addenbrooke’s for an hour to have her chemotherapy and then she is free to go until the next day. It might sound less restrictive than being an inpatient and in many ways it is, but when you are driving for twice as long as the treatment actually lasts, it is not a pleasant day.

The agonising wait that ensued on Monday continued into Tuesday. It does seem crazy that with today's technology and skills that we still have to wait so long for an accurate result from the hospital. I dropped Lucia at school on Tuesday morning and arrived back at home talking on the phone to my colleague; as I pulled up onto the drive Hayley walked out with the phone; on the other end was Amos.

This week was always going to be an important point in Camille’s treatment as we were due to get on with her chemotherapy after her septic shock episode. Hayley and I actually seemed fairly confident when we arrived at Addenbrooke’s on Monday for Camille to have her kidney function test to see how quickly she will be able to clear the chemotherapy. This test is a standard procedure that takes place every eight weeks before each new course of chemotherapy starts; Camille gets injected with a radioactive fluid and then over four hours, she is monitored then over the following four hours to see the levels remaining at various stages.

Gradually now, day by day, we are getting closer to being able to continue with Camille’s treatment. The early part of this week Hayley spent in Addenbrooke’s with Camille undergoing numerous tests so that Amos can gain an understanding of how much the chemotherapy and the Klebsiella has affected her.

When I woke on Monday morning I expected my muscles to be throbbing after going on my first run in over a year. Actually, I was pleasantly surprised by my nimbleness as I waltzed down the stairs with the girls. It can be a real struggle to get in the frame of mind to step out onto the tarmac, but once you’ve done it and you’ve taken that rather long deep breath you feel pretty good.

It was clear to us by the end of the weekend that Camille was still not right after leaving Addenbrooke's on the Thursday evening before. Camille was still being sick and we were struggling to keep up with her required fluid intake without her vomiting. It wasn't until Sunday night that we realised that another hospital visit was on the cards.

Everybody is aware that brain tumours are extremely dangerous and your first assumption, like ours back in June last year, is that there is not much hope of survival. Hopefully, now that you have joined us on this journey over the last eleven months, you know that tumours are curable and that the doctors who have the task of looking after children like Camille, will do anything to not only make sure they survives, but also that they has the highest quality of life possible post treatment.

After such a difficult end to the previous week, Hayley and I entered into another week on the High Dependency Unit, deflated and in need of some good news. However, good news is hard to come by and it wasn't about to jump out at us. Camille was being fed all of her required fluids and nutrients directly into her veins, the levels of urea and creatinine in her blood inching ever upwards towards dialysis and who knows what else.

There are times when you are a parent of a cancer patient that you have to sit back while your child is going through absolute hell, not able to affect their outcome in any way. Hayley and I felt like this in June and July when Camille was first diagnosed and again this week we’ve been faced with this horrible feeling.

After two weeks of Hayley updating the blog I've been chomping at the bit to get back behind the keyboard. It was interesting to get Hayley's perspective on things and I'm sure that everyone who read the two updates could see how incredibly difficult every week is for the mother of a little girl like Camille.

Saturday morning, once again Lucia was up with the birds, she was pretty stealthy as she jumped out of her top bunk and tippy toed over to our bedroom.   Martin quickly installed her in the living room with Peppa Pig on the TV then hopped back into bed hoping for 5 minutes before our littlest called for 'Daaaaaaaaddy'.

As this week is a bit of a momentous week for Lucia and Camille, I thought I would take the strain off Martin and 'guest write' the blog.  Unfortunately I do not have the wit of my husband, my thoughts on events in our lives tend to be a bit more emotional - and long, I apologise in advance for the length of this blog and suggest a cup of tea might be in order.

A year ago I turned thirty and set upon the task of achieving ten challenges/ambitions before I reached my next birthday. In June 2009 my challenge came to an abrupt end when Camille was diagnosed with her brain tumour. For the purpose of “closure” I’d like to share with you how much I achieved:

It's very rare these days that we manage to have a straightforward or normal week, but looking back over the last seven days, it's probably been as normal as we've had in some time.

Every weekend, Hayley and I look at our diaries for the coming week to decide how best to fit in work with chemotherapy and other miscellaneous hospital appointments. Of course this well oiled plan can be thrown completely off course by a nasty little infection requiring 48 hours in hospital.

On Monday afternoon, Hayley and I made the visit by ourselves to Addenbrooke's to have our meeting with Amos and Mr Garnett to discuss the scan results that we'd had an indication of two weeks before.

There’s nothing quite like getting up at 5.00am on a Monday morning to drive the 220 miles to Bristol through rush hour M25.

Even though Camille had gone in late for her chemotherapy due to an infection in the previous week, we were still on course to complete our fourth cycle.

Having just made it through the weekend without being admitted to hospital I was tentative to say the least about making the four hundred mile round trip to my office in Bournemouth on Monday.

The week began with the thunderous footsteps of our eldest daughter crossing the landing into our bedroom, followed swiftly by the chirpy calls from our youngest daughter of “Daaaddddddyyyyyy”.

We've all heard of the dangers of the press and how a true story can be twisted or misstated into something a mile away from reality.

The weeks seem to be flying by at the moment and I don't know if that's a good thing or not.

Another week begins and another trip to Addenbrooke's for chemotherapy beckons.

After weeks confined to hospital ward it was really important that we could just get home and spend lots of time just being a normal family, and doing normal things in the house. So that’s exactly what we did, hardly going anywhere apart from work and school for Lucia.

As the days went by my boredom in hospital was becoming intolerable, and the fact that Camille was bed ridden due to the temporary drain didn't help.

Never in my life has a week dragged on in the same way that this week has done. For ten days now, Camille has been practically restricted to her bed twenty four hours a day.......

The days have merged into one another and now a week on from my last post, we are still resident at Addenbrooke’s Hospital, still a long way from home......

Many men would be bored of cold turkey and mash for the days following Christmas, but not I. In fact I bludgeoned through plates of the stuff with spoonfuls of Branston pickle...........

Picture the scene; Lucia wakes up with the crack of dawn on Christmas morning spotting the swelling stocking hanging from her door handle. She skips through to Mummy and Daddy's bedroom to announce that our midnight visitor had been........

The previous week had been extra-ordinarily busy with the trip to 10 Downing Street and the Christmas Ball. As feedback rolled in the following day it was clear that the evening had been a major success....

As we had feared, Mr Garnett came to see us on Saturday morning to break it to use that we would be staying for at least another week.....

On Monday morning I had the delightful task of going to Birmingham for a meeting. I was aware that Hayley was going to take Camille in to hospital....

Patience is a gift that Hayley and I are not blessed with at the best of times. However, waiting for the results of an MRI scan add an extra level of urgency.....

The early part of the week was spent trying to work out how we were going to catch Gordon Brown mentioning Camille's name or at least letter in his NHS speech on Tuesday.....

The toll of the Three Peaks was evident as I crept downstairs on Monday morning. Step after step my legs felt like they were going to implode, creaking more than the floorboards.....

As the sun set over the flat fields of Suffolk, the waiting was over, the long hard struggle to get our fitness levels up and raise some serious funds for Camille's Appeal had come to an end.....

Like any other chemotherapy week, this one followed a similar pattern: the Monday morning visit from Mary, our local Outreach Sister who comes to our house to take Camiille's bloods.....

I'm learning fast not to underestimate the chances of new pieces of news coming our way. Monday was our opportunity to ask both Mr Garnett and Amos any questions we had about the current position....

So, this week was the long one, the Chemotherapy dose that takes the whole week to get through with all the hydrating and flushing involved.

My job is going quite well since I started back a month or two ago. My role is one where I can control my own diary, so I do try to be present when Camille is going in to Addenbrookes....

Back when we suggested the Three Peak Challenge standing around our Addenbrooke's bed, I completely underestimated how little time I would have to train.....

A virus can come in many forms and with Camille's lack of immunity we have to be extra vigilant. It came as a major surprise that it was my laptop that became infected.....