I ought to be asleep but apparently my brain thought better of that and decided lying awake thinking about the lymph nodes in my neck was infinitely more interesting. Radiotherapy starts in just under 6 hours so I ought to get some sleep but it's looking doubtful. People can survive, albeit in a really crazy hallucinating way without sleep for a fair while so I think I'm safe.
I'm hoping the lymph nodes in my neck haven't decided to get bigger because of the lymphoma and rather I've got some funky virus or something. After all, my immune system has been compromised as the nurse told me.
So what's the last 3 days been like?
I went 300ft into a big cave and saw lots of cave snot, pretty minerals and random natural holes that were about 150 million years old or something. That was pretty interesting. The tour guide clearly thought he was hilarious but unfortunately none of the group got it and towards the end he more or less found himself begging for someone to laugh at whatever it was trying to joke about. I had a really nice time with my parents and thanks to no freaking out on their part, I left feeling reassured and a bit gutted I had to leave them. Never mind, I see them again in September.
I got cats on the way home, huzzah! We now have two fur babies!
This is the gobby man himself, Gabriel:
And this bat-like bundle of mischief is Loki:
They make quite the cute pair!
The cats came home with us on Monday evening. We adopted them from a woman who could talk even more than me (who knew that was possible). She had an accident of some kind so she could barely walk and was being rehoused to an adapted flat but she had 11 cats and for some reason they thought this was excessive...don't ask me why! Anyhoo she was allowed to keep 2 so she let her children keep their own cats and the others were re-homed - Gabriel and Loki were the last 2. She kept going on about them being a bargain and show quality and pedigree papers and I had to break it to her that really I didn't care about any of that, I just really wanted some cats to cuddle and these sops fit the bill beautifully.
Of course now the not sleeping is a mixture of freaking out, awful nightmares and being told off (mainly by Gabriel) because it seems I fail to understand that play time runs from 2 - 5am. I can see this becoming irritating when I go back to work but for now I'm awake anyway so feel free to attack my toes if it makes you happy!
I went in for measuring up on Tuesday and boy was that a long day! My appointment in the Freeman was booked for 11.30am. The car broke down...helpful! Apparently the starter motor has gone on it. I think it's fair to say that the thing is well beyond saving now but he won't have it. He'll have rebuilt the whole thing and then claim it's working just brilliantly instead. Oh well. We got a taxi with a man who insisted on telling me that David Cameron wanted to fill parliament with women and he was just digging his own grave. You'd think taking the woman to the cancer unit would be enough to put you off a spot of blatant sexism but apparently not. What a nob! I heard an awful lot about all the things he hates about life, the council and anything else he can whinge about on his ridiculously long trip to the Freeman because apparently going the direct route was too hard for him. It's a good job I'm too tired to be angry really.
When we got to the most cheerful place on earth, I went down to the radiotherapy area and was greeted by a woman who apparently had never heard of customer service and was asked to wait to be seen. All fine with me but after 2 and a half hours of no news I'll be honest, I was wondering whether they'd just decided this whole cancer thing was just a bit of a joke and I didn't need to have the big bloody X-ray pointed at me after all. No such luck I'm afraid. Eventually, having watched a gazillion other people come and go, all looking a little like they'd stood a bit closer to an electric fire than was sensible (how can I wait for them to do that to me too), a nurse did come to tell me I'd be seen when the consultant arrived on his way from clinic. He was going to be with me any moment. I enquired with Hairy whether I ought to be concerned that he didn't realise my consultant is most definitely a woman. That or she is REALLY convincing at this cross-dressing lark because her parents were cruel enough to name their son Joanna.
When I did finally see the consultant and the radiologist, they brightly informed me that the wait for the world to end came simply because they'd lost my notes. It's not that big a centre. You can see the tumours. What the hell did they need to wait 3 hours for? Hmmm I was rather hoping I'd get fireworks and a standing ovation having waited such an incredible length of time but sadly not. I was drawn all over, pulled around a bit, photographed with a number on a board like I was at a murder scene and after lots of talk over me about balluses (no idea what they are), custom made templates and which tumour to centre on and give most radiation to, they told me I was free to leave and then as an after thought decided to make sure I was indeed who I said I was. You'd think it'd be too hard to get someone else to grow lymphoma for me but it's nice to know that they checked BEFORE they pointed the radiation at me; very considerate indeed.
Tuesday night I got about 3 hours sleep in the end and then wandered over, misty eyed and only partially on the same planet as the rest of humanity, over to see Teapot and his lass. I felt pretty rubbish company, not least because I was pretty sure were I left for any length of time, I probably would have just curled up and gone to sleep on their sofa. I could be wrong but I think that's generally considered poor on the social scale. I was so tired I could barely remember what day it was, never mind anything I've done, seen, think so you can imagine the quality of conversation coming from me. Not terribly helpful since talking is usually one of the only things I am naturally very good at. Can't even master the English language at the moment. Cancer and lack of sleep apparently pushed out all the personality and left a new vacuous me. Gaining your brain back at 4 in the morning isn't terribly helpful since there's no one awake to witness it. Basically I'm doing a very impressive job as a walking vegetable.
Anyhoo, I spent my day drinking lots of tea and watching very random things found on the internet. Clearly I'm not using it right because there's an awful lot of weirdness out there. I was still pleased I got out the house though. I have a feeling left to my own devices, I probably would have decided I was about 30 seconds away from some kind of brain malfunction and honestly, I'm not enjoying all this constant panic. I'm finding it exhausting to pretend I don't only want to sit and cry all the bloody time now. The simple fact is that I don't actually want to cry; I'm really not a fan of the past time, but lack of sleep and stress turns me into exactly the sort of irritating woman that I usually can't stand to be near so I certainly don't want to inflict her psycho-leaking face on anyone else. I'd had a pretty relaxed day and then all the way home on the train it was a battle between my eyes and my brain not to start the leaking. It's not even like anything had happened. I can't even blame hormones. I'm just being a wuss! Anyone would think I was ill the way I bang on about it all. The cats are helping to keep me a bit more chilled out though which is good. I'm not sure my lungs agree but to be fair letting the cat sit on your face isn't a recognised cure for asthma so I'm not surprised it's not really worked out that way.
I guess my puffy neck and I ought to drag ourselves back to bed else I'll never get up for my day of hospital appointments tomorrow. To re-cap for my own face though. Aside from the damage I'm doing to my own psychological state with worrying, everything is fine. I've seen big shiny rocks, I've got cats, I've seen friends, I've managed not to cry today and I'm still ginger.
All is well in the world. We just need to stop telling ourselves otherwise.
