There’s this little side effect of chemotherapy that no one really warns you about. It’s not the nausea, or the bone-deep fatigue, or even losing your hair... people at least prepare you for those. It's the brain fog or as I like to call it: the brain farts. It feels like my brain’s running on dodgy WiFi. Some days, the signal is strong and clear, I can think straight, string sentences together, feel sharp again. Other days, it’s like everything is buffering mid-thought, mid-sentence, mid-task. One minute I’m totally capable, the next I’m wondering if my brain is actively sabotaging me on purpose. Take the time I tried to organize a fun night out at the cinema with my girlfriends. I booked the tickets online, feeling very “on top of life.” Halfway there, it hit me: Brighton doesn’t even have a Vue cinema. I’d booked us tickets for London. Cue me, standing on the pavement, staring at my phone like: Really? Again? Or the time I was invited to speak at a cancer conference in Londo...