I might be going a little stir crazy now my complete need to sleep has lifted a little. I've offered to go into work and crack on but no one seems to think that's a good idea until I've 'had a good break'. Was I really that bad before I went off? I thought I held it all together rather well myself! I'm still knackered and am sleeping a ridiculous amount but where before I'd wake up, shrug it off and go back to sleep, I've now reached my limit for inactivity. Today I vacuumed the house and did some washing; hardly an award winning achievement but it's more than I've been doing in the last couple of weeks except wandering around brain dead, so I feel it is an accomplishment, not much of one, but one all the same. I've started eyeing up all the junk in the house with a strong urge to de-clutter. I've got nearly an entire room full of things I was certain I still needed and wanted to keep forever and now my priorities have shifted and I want to cut loose a lot of the extra weight. It's a lot of space wasting that someone else will one day need to trawl through and decide whether to keep or not. No doubt if I go first Hairy would have this thankless task and since he's even worse for hoarding than I, I certainly don't want to leave him with more of an ability to make a Lottie shrine than I need to. Sure, worship my awesomeness all you like, but not with the tat in those boxes OK? I wonder if it's caused by all the goings on with Uncle Richard?
The search for his will is still continuing. It's odd that he asked my other uncle to be his executer and had told people he'd written one and then decided to I guess hide it under 27 years worth of unopened pressed shirts and CDs? People are strange indeed. My mum and nan are going over next week to help the rest of the family deal with the paperwork, the thank you cards and the such like when they attend the funeral. I really want to go but it conflicts with more hospital appointments and isn't really day trip-able so I've instead offered to do what I can from a distance. All the organising seems to rather get in the way of the grieving. I don't think I'd ever considered it much before. I definitely am starting to believe you're never too young (once you're supporting yourself and the such) to give some thought to what you want from your funeral arrangements, belongings etc. so it makes it easier on the people who love you when you're gone. I'm a pessimistic soul so a lot of this stuff was in order for this ginger before the cancer even came along. When I was hospitalised in December last year for a while I was convinced I'd die and the things I was most concerned about?
1) Did Hairy know where I'd filed the insurances, wills, pension info etc. so he could claim everything.
2) Could I get him to help me get a bra on before the ambulance arrived because I was sure as hell not going without them being strapped in where they belong. I figured if I did survive (which evidently I did) then I'd be mortified to be in one of those 'ass on show' gowns with my breasts unsupported as well. That's like the double whammy of indignity where hospital dress is concerned!
I've managed to burn an ugly red hole into my left eye because I was too dim to shut my eyes as I saw the hot oil splashing out of the pan yesterday and watched it fly right into my eye. For the record, it's not a good look, so don't try it at home! It missed my retina so I'll be fine but it smarts something chronic. I also managed to pour boiling water over my right hand this week so I'm not exactly proving my ability to look after myself. I promise I'm doing better where the felines are concerned.
My relatives continue to be taking to illness like over zealous moths to light bulbs. My mother called to say that my step grandfather's cancer has returned and there's nothing they can do for him this time. He had bowel cancer probably nearly 15 years ago but this time it's in his prostate and abdomin and the mass is either too big or attached to something so tricky that they've told him that they'll give him palliative chemotherapy but it will be a terminal diagnosis; it's just a case of giving him as much quality time as they can. It's horrible news. I have a rather large family if you hadn't guessed. One side are Irish and Catholic (they tend to live forever though) and the other side are Italian/British and certainly in my immediate family are rather too fond of divorce so I grew up with double the amount of parents and grandparents anyone should have. I think the highest grandparent number we reached was 11 once my parents too had re-married - no one needs that many grandparents but I loved them all the same. Most of the time having an enormous family is only a good thing but it also means when things go wrong, it can sometimes be a little overwhelming. My nan is struggling between trying to help with her brother's funeral and caring for her husband who had a stroke 2 years ago and has multiple organ failure, while my grandad is trying to help with a funeral and care for his partner who keeps collapsing. The hospital down there are appalling and have told him she's only still in there because social services have suggested he needs more help organised before she comes home. He had a stair lift fitted today for her and a wheelchair has been ordered. They're not interested in caring for her despite saying they've no idea why her blood pressure keeps plummeting. Bless him, he's in his 80s himself and it's an awful lot to be dealing with. Mum is running between them both and I'm smiling at mum since she's worried about both her parents bless her! You have to wonder whether my family should have been allowed to marry and/or breed given their propensity to drop like flies!
Radiotherapy is still ticking by. I've got my clinic review tomorrow so I'll once again shove my neck in the oncologist's face to enquire what it is, even if it isn't cancer since my silly GP couldn't even get a finger out to work out there was something actually there before he claimed it was in my head. The things I imagine go away, this didn't. We established it's something, just not what. No one is particularly concerned so I'm not either but one way or the other I would like to resolve what the glands in my neck are playing at. It's like every part of my body is just trying to vie for attention. Could it not be something more attractive next time? I've got an alright nose, why not get everyone staring at that instead? Or perhaps not...
My scar has now developed two eyes. I have no idea whether it's lymphoma or some other lovely bodily substance but I now have a scar fit for space invaders. Aside from the fact it's pink and angry looking, no joke, I have this on my arm now!
Maybe a pink one...
I have no idea if the space invader look is here to stay but at least it's interesting. I can't wait for the daily trips to the hospital to be done with though I'm sure I'll miss the safety net of knowing there's someone keeping an eye on the blasted thing every day. I can't see how they know the cancer is all gone but since that's what they went to university for, I'm sure they know what they're doing.
Aside from a long rant about the illnesses of all my loved ones and my desire to empty my house, there's very little new going on in ginger land. The cats are still gorgeous fur balls of joy. They've discovered the drawer my medication is kept in, also houses the treats so we all have to have them together now to avoid siamese voicey complaints; I love how super chatty they are. Hairy is on the hunt for a new car and is a little less sad as a result which pleases me greatly. I continue to keep smiling at him and reminding him that he is my favourite badger because I'm kind like that. Just another day then really.
