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This is going to be a quick, well, quickish, update, just for my own records really, and v boring. Sorry!
But before I start - I don't have as much trouble with the Mac site as a lot of people, maybe because I wasn't using the old one for that long before it changed, but why in the name of the blessed Ada Lovelace, are private messages listed under 'community home'?
Okay. Summary: I am not quite bald, but it won't be long, I think; my older brother is lovely (my younger one is a capital L Loser); my left lung appears to be on the mend; chemo has given me nasty shooting pains and affected my taste buds.
It all could be worse, though some of it could be better.
This seems to be a pattern: Sunday, the day after chemo, I was pretty much fine; woke up all bright and perky (Allbright and Perky bitched about it a bit) and even contemplated a trip to one of the big Tescoses in which this area abounds. Common sense set in, and this was downgraded to a trip to Homebase to buy Judy a new bookcase for her study. Once home, Judy set about making it; I went to bed.
Sunday night - not so wonderful. Mostly a lot of weeing. (Funny how we talk about poo all the time, but wee hardly gets a look-in.) Judy pointed out that I'd had a lot of fluid put into me the day before, it had to go somewhere. Of course, some of it already had gone somewhere, on the way home, thank god for Sainsbury's having a customer loo - and, LM, I do apologise over the yin/yang poo; from past experience, I suspect the balance will reverse very shortly. Anyway, that meant a very disturbed night, and I barely woke up in time to have a bath before my brother arrived. The mobile hairdresser got here shortly after, and set up a mini-salon in the kitchen. She was very good - not squicked out at all by my hair coming out by the handful (once again, when I got out of the bath that morning I had left behind Guy the Gorilla) - and gave me a nice sort-of pixie cut. I doubt it'll last long, my hair's still coming out, but it'll do for the moment.
(Strangely, hairdresser-lady grew up just round the corner from here, and remembers when our estate was fields where one of the neighbours kept goats. How things change. Although our next-door neighbour has chickens. There is something intrinsically comical about urban chickens. But I digress.)
Oh, while I was with the hairdresser, my GP's receptionist phoned to say that she - the doctor, that is, at least I hope it is - had filled out my hospital insurance form, and was going to 'waive her fee'. We hadn't actually registered that there should be a fee, but whatever. I should hope she'd waive it, given whose fault it is that I got so ill before I got any treatment. Yeah. I'm gonna let go of that in a hurry!
Tim brought the news that, when he emailed Jeremy - that's other brother - to tell him that the sale of our mother's house appeared finally to be going through, Jeremy's response was "Good, then we can all delete one another's email addresses" - followed, for reasons best known to himself, by a quote from Richard III which Tim didn't bother to try to interpret, instead merely observing "Tosser." And so say all of us.
My sister Penny sent me a buff from my Amazon wishlist that morning, btw. I'm not sure it'll get used; it feels a bit itchy. But it was a very kind thought of hers.
By the time Tim went, I was very tired and shaky and - you guessed it - had to go back to bed. And worse, the chemo symptoms were starting up: sharp, stabbing twinges in my lower tummy, and in my bum, and in my girlbits which, I have to say, is not somewhere that stabbing twinges are particularly welcome; less unpleasant, but still not nice, a very dry mouth, with everything I eat turning tasteless as soon as I've eaten it. Which sounds a bit like something that would happen to a bad character in a folk tale. Which might account for a lot. If I remember correctly, I had these symptoms the last time, too, and they wore off reasonably soon. I hope they'll do so again. And, of course, if not ... oh, well.
Another pretty bad night last night, thanks to the twinges. Up early to drive to the Churchill - in hideous traffic from Kidlington onward - to see the lovely Dr Naj. Had a chest X-ray ("Oooh, I haven't had one of these for weeks!" I said), and Naj said that it looked as if the left lung had stayed glued down and not taken in any more ascitic fluid. There's still the original pleural effusion on the right side, but they're not planning to treat that - it's too little, although still big enough to have been the thing that mucked up my breathing to begin with. I suppose I should thank it for that, as without that we might never have found the cancer. Um, thanks, lung! I think.
Anyway: I've got another appointment with Naj in December and, if all is well, that will be the last of this. Which I shall be rather sad about. Naj is sweet.
We came home via Bicester; I went to the bank and paid off my credit card bill only-just-in-time, and we did some shopping in the scabby town Tesco; came home, unpacked, and who would like to make a bet on what I did then??
Indeed. And there I have been, pretty much all day.
At this very moment I should be at the Stables in Milton Keynes, bopping along to Southside Johnny and the Asbury Jukes. I'm not. I'm here, typing self-pitying nonsense.
Time to stop. Whining will recommence tomorrow.
Hello you :)
I too had a pixi-crop for a couple of weeks before letting myself loose with clippers, I quite liked it, having not had short hair before :)
Grr and gnash to aches and excess wee-ing and other horrid side-effects! But I'm glad nice Naj is happy with your lungs :)
Oh the gigs I have missed recently!! More Grrrrrrrr-ing to missing gigs... i shall send you huge hugs in sympathy!
Catch up for mutual moaning tomorrow then? Great :)
Sweet dreams, wishing you a restful night pumpkin xx
busy,busy,busy.....I dont now how you managed to fit so much in while lying in bed :)
(( (( (( xx )) )) ))
ha ha, that was a poor attempt at a "bopping to the beat hug" sorry x
nanny.b, that was a brilliant boppy hug and made me smile. I was feeling a bit sorry for myself there, so I needed that - thank you!
Cariad - I thought I needed an intrim - oh, funny; interim, I meant - haircut before total baldness descended. I'd had it short before, but grew it a bit longer when I started getting old and fat. Eh, well.
Judy has just come home and told me how great the gig was. *sigh* I really couldn't have made it, it's been a wobbly/shaky/hurty evening, but that's not much consolation!
Kidney tests tomorrow. Whoooooohoooo.
*sleepy hugs all round*
Morning, crabby lady, sorry should I say Gretel... I wouldn't get into folk tales if I was you, they all have sticky endings and if you turn up to the ball in red shoes, I'm legging it! Sorry, I missed you last night. Too tired... don't know how I used to have the energy to work...
If that is boring, then let me know exciting in advance eh? Might need to brace myself and get a strategically placed hand.
Oh dear, is that the 5 hour kidney test??? I am glad we don't have yin/yang wees too....
I am doing very strange things with poos at the moment... can I blame you?
I am hoping you will be able to stay awake enough by February to come to the Ball. We can make up for lost fun then. I can't even remember what a gig is... sounds fun though.
I have had a pixie crop for years out of choice... so welcome to the short hair club. Clogs the drains up a bit less... Conversely, mine grew long during treatment (cos I couldn't sit down to get it cut ha ha) so post chemo I got it nice and pixie again.
What is it with your family and Richard III? My brother and I quote bum puns to eachother. Ah well. Like I said I studied bottoms of glasses.
I think chickens are funny full stop. My son is looking after rural chickens and they are thick as mince.
Hope the kidney function isn't too hurty or boring and that twinges disappear soon
Big hug to you
Little My xxx
ps fancy having some diarrhoea? I've got 3 meetings to go to and could do with at least one of my bums having a break.... I can swap with you tomorrow.?
Hi, LM, honey. Well, for a start, on what I shall childishly call the yin/yang tiddle i po front, I think you should find some improvement soon. Hospital tuna sandwiches. Works every time.
I don't know how anyone - anyone ill, that is - has energy to work. Lots of people on this site, many of whom sound as though they are far worse off than I am, are obviously still working, and coping with it ... well, you know: as we cope with anything. But I'm sleeping something like 15-18 hours a day, and tired when I'm not asleep. A fact that in itself is apparently enough to wake me weepy. *sniffle Oh, dear, what a drippy girl I am this last couple of days! I am amazed and impressed by your own return to work, just for a kick-off.
Chickens are pretty funny in and of themselves, it's true, but it's particularly incongruous to hear them clucking and squawking away in a tidy suburban cul-de-sac. At least in the countryside they're in their own milieu.
If I am in any folk tale at all, I suspect I am Baba Yaga. And, you know, I am okay with that. It's not so long ago that I scared away a couple of children who were trying to play bell-ringing-and-running-away, although what I mostly wanted to tell them was that they were shit at it, since they stood and giggled right under my study window before ringing, and then only ran round the corner. Pathetic!
I should like to come to the ball. I don't know what sort of state I'll be in by then (not that any of us know that). Or how I'd get there, come to that. Thoughts for laters.
Kidney test over and done. Tedious. Worse for Judy: I had a cot, and could doze off, she just had to sit around. I wanted to write a blog post for it, only so that I could call it 'More Pricks Than Kicks', but, really, there's nowt to tell. Arrive at hospital. Get cannulated, get injected. Go to sleep. Wake up when someone wants to take a blood sample x 4 at hourly intervals. Get un-cannulated, go home. Riveting stuff. I'll save the title for a better post.
What Jeremy said to Tim was Madam, I have a touch of your condition, Which cannot brook the accent of reproof. Tim (very puzzled): "Is he saying he has cancer?" No, I explained, he's saying that he's fed up with Tim and Penny telling him not to be such a wanker. That, at any rate, would be my interpretation.
Oh, it must be sleep-time again soon!
*lots of hugs*
Now LM if you are going to swap Hilary some diarrheoa, at least swap it for the boring 5 hour kidney test which requires a lot of hanging around doing sod all!
Urgh! trying to eat something because you know you've got to eat something to keep your strength up, but it might as well be a cardboard box. I remember it well. The only things I really liked at those times was crystallised ginger and fresh pineapple.
Sounds very busy at Hilary's Homestead. Think every family must have a right charmer. Mine is one of my sisters who was told I was seriously ill when I had big op no 1, and told my mum that "She had enough problems of her own". I then upset Mum as I said that as she had made her feelings clear she did not need to be kept informed of my progress, and I did not want her told if I died until after funeral, as I was not having her do her drama queen act and upsetting everyone. Two of my brothers even said they would stand at the Church door to make sure she didn't get in! Like the sound of Tim! Hug for Tim for being a lovely brother xx
Boo Hiss to you missing the gig. We all have catching up to do :-)
Cariad, is my chemo brain mixing you up with someone else....OLD????
LM What ARE you doing with poos? Sounds as if you might be getting artistic ala Tracey Emin. Have you had to keep a poo diary like wot i did when I had my Stem Cell transplant?
Right, off to see what everyone else has been up to as EVERYONE (apart from Tim living it up in Munich, and our VIP) seems to have been here in the last 24hrs.
Sleep well, and hope you feel better tomorrow xxxx
Stinker, tonight's culinary delight was Heinz tomato soup. But, I'm glad to say, I think the cardboard-y feeling is already starting to go away, and so, thank goodness, are the twinges.
I'm sorry you have an awful relative too! I don't know what Jeremy's problem is. Quite honestly, at this point I don't care any more.
The kidney test was very boring, but at least now it's over. And I do seem to slip into a sort of limbo state at hospital, where I don't notice time passing. The problem is, snapping back out of it once I've finished treatment!
Oh memories of childhood.....so long since I had Heinz tomato soup :-)
We can choose our friends but we can't choose our relatives. Luckily I have another sis who I'm very close to, and 5 brothers, that I see from time to time, spread all over the country!
Oh the tests we do to keep our docs happy. Just think of how many people would lose their jobs if they didn't have us!
One of my oddities - I'm told I have a lot of oddities - is that I really only like tinned soup, the posh, home-made varieties all seem bland and tasteless to me. Probably because they don't contain three times the average person's RDA of salt! And then I only really like tomato and mushroom, although I branched out into vegetable a while back. It tastes okay, but it has bits in!
... honestly, it's like trying to feed a five-year-old, not a fiftysomething!
I'm a bit scared about my hospital. The nurse I had during the latter part of yesterday was a dead ringer for the young man on reception the day before - Judy thought so too. Are they so short of staff that they have to clone them now?!
You'll have to liquidise the veg soup so that it has no bits in!
It might not have been a clone....perhaps they were so short of nurses that they had to use the receptionist! These cuts are really biting!!!
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