Thank god it’s only 3 because Friday 3 was two more than I could handle. Friday was eventful to say the least. Woke up and didn’t feel absolutely rotten which was a nice start to the day. I got my butt in the shower and decided to walk on a bit of fake tan to help make me feel more like a human when the absolute horror occurred.
A fucking lump in my arm pit. And not the armpit with the breast cancer. The other armpit. I kid you not. What in God’s name is happening here? Just like how the cancer started on my left side. A bused like lump in my arm pit. After standing there frozen for a little while debating on just putting down my arm and ignoring find, I did ring the chemo ward. I really didn’t want to. At my last Oncology appointment, she said I would be seen every 3 weeks and that would have been Monday anyway. Nothing had been scheduled but after my call, I’m booked in for Monday afternoon. I feel like I should be stressed but then what more can be done than is already being done. I pose there’s no better time to find a lump in your boob than when you're under brilliant care and treatment for a lump in your boob.
I had waited all day to get my new TV fitted. After spending a fortune on a whim, I had never been so excited to get the biggest telly on my bedroom wall. I knew the joint and bone pain was going to kick in that afternoon and I was home alone all weekend. They rang and asked if anyone was shielding or venerable. Stupid me truthfully said yes so, they wouldn’t come. All holy hell broke loose in my kitchen. I hit the roof. Peeling me off the ceiling on the phone to John Lewis customer service, my Mam took the phone she actually felt so bad for the man on the other end. No one would come with my TV. No one will return it. No one would fit it. I have the bracket. They have the telly. Major standoff. They’ll call me on Monday to rearrange. For when? When I don’t have cancer? The most stupid thing I have ever heard in my life. Why they think it’s fine on Monday but wasn’t on Friday I have no idea. I’m glad the delivery driver is so highly qualified he knows what is best for me and my cancer right now. Christ Sake. If I ever meet that man, it will be worth the £600 to put his head through my new TV.
McDonalds is not on Uber eats tonight. Obviously, no explanation is needed here.
Joint pain kicked in, so I necked some tramadol and took myself to bed.
I wrote down these events as they happened in chronological order. Turns out they are properly in importance by coincidence. It didn’t feel like that on Friday I’m telling you. After crying about the lack of a new telly for 2 hours all I wanted was a strawberry milkshake. I’m sure you can imagine the reaction. Two days later a bit of perspective puts a different look on everything.
Cookies and bucks fizz for Sunday brunch always helps defuse a difficult week.
