Post 13: Anima rules
Vital statistics:
Temp: 36.2 perfect 
BP: 120/79/59
Weight: stable appetite better
Hair: still watching, waiting 
Anything else? Titus left 
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Again I wake with a horrendous night sweat as My Darlings work alarm goes off; this (the sweats) could now be a routine problem I’ll have to endure. I’m cold and as she gets up I flip the duvet to find a dry patch to hide under. It’s way too early for me to rise so I’m staying put in my own mess for now. It sounds ugly, which it is, but what can I do?
I hear the car start and she slips away from me and my ugliness.
I’m not feeling too cold in myself, but I have the slight pain over my forehead again and choose to give the T-gauge a go, even though it’s not yet five am, and as I’m expecting a low reading I shut one eye when looking at the figure. Oh! 35.2 not good.
Do I feel ill? no.
Should I volunteer this information to her? Not yet.
It’s just the cool bedroom causing it so I’ll get back to sleep and check it again later; when I’m warmer. 
If this scenario is going to happen every day I’m going to need a better strategy. Perhaps not checking the temp (probably not the best idea) or ring for reassurance at the Day Unit, on the blower, might be the better option.
I don’t want to bother people, I don’t want a fuss.
I’m well, I’m sure I am.
What shall I do?
I’ll decide later…
Procrastination rules; within limits
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Easter’s going by without much of a fight. Just My Darling, me and Mr Vicious.
Up until I was 17 I remember Easter being heavily involved with chocolate, church and parents; the parents mostly trying to keep us kids out of the dirt looking smart. Not a hope!
Sometimes we would visit other family, or they us, but it was a generally a simpler time of primroses and stations of the cross and “toffee” filled, egg sized Easter eggs.
That changed drastically when at eighteen years old and with an unhealthy obsession with darts and snooker I found the Easter-festivities in our town was based around having fun.
Pram races over fields, yard-of-ale (or Boot glass) drinking competitions and families, food and laughter all centred on the local “Men’s” Club. The music and dancing, Easter hats and dresses, everyone made such an effort to enjoy the long weekend.
Rebellious, yes, but there was never any danger; unless you were tricked into participating in one of the many competitions, which could lead to a modicum of personal embarrassment.
These occasions marking the seasons more than any religious ceremonies, made such an impact for those that joyfully attended and I grew to know a new community outside and above what I previously knew as a family.
Those days are gone for good reason but every now and then the light that shone onto those happy gatherings still warms me.
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The niggling ache in my tummy that I’ve had is still there.
I could be the complicated tidying up of my vehicle issues, way too many vehicles; or it could be the cancelled holiday.
Due to the experts telling me I can’t go on an airplane during chemo, whilst My Darling and I were left to choose whether to take the Carboplatin now or… now, I now experience the lows that comes with a long awaited holiday cancelled.
We were off to Tuscany. Florence for eight nights by way of Pisa airport, to be at our friend’s side and witness the marriage of our Godson in a beautiful hillside vineyard, which we now will not experience.
The thing is, we can’t go but others could (in our place). We can change the names on the package and give the holiday away.
Ok, I know, you’re screaming that you can claim off your insurance and go later. I suppose we could but the insurance (I chose) only allows £500 back on a cancellation.
At the time I arranged the years insurance the cancellation policy was ok for us, as we would rather have the cover in hundreds, rather than thousands of pounds; all because of the stage 4 cancer etc. It’s just one of those things.
But as luck would have it a couple of mates are available and tomorrow I’m hoping to seal the deal and get names changed, where-after I’m hoping to say bye to the ache in my tummy.
Wish me luck 
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If you’ve heard or used Anima before you’ll have your own thoughts about the online package that bridges you to your very own GP surgery. It’s new to me this year (2025) but is a very welcome additional line of communication for lots of useful things.
I didn’t ever use the telephone system because since I had the cancer I was given a special email address to the practice cancer care coordinator and thus all my communications were via email. It was simple and always worked well.
But Anima has proved to be a good way to get continued fit or sick notes signed and then texted to me on the day, for passing on to my place of work.
I don’t have to clog up the F2F surgery appointment system and that helps the doc too. It’s great for everyone.
So tomorrow I have to get a new sick-note sorted. This aught to be easy via this system but I can only achieve it within the “open-hours” of Anima and only after my doc signs it.
Should be done within the hour 
A peice of cake 
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It’s a week today that I had the Carboplatin infusion so I should round up how it’s been.
In a word, Boring.
I would really like to know how my blood cells are doing. I miss the logic with the pills but don’t miss the twice a day routine.
I’m impatient to find out what’s happening.
I need to know.
No hope of that.
I’m stuck here with my laxido powders and a slightly suppressed appetite and Netflix.
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I’ll admit that last night after My sleepy eyed Darling trudged off upstairs to bed I was at my lowest. Not because I had no hand to hold but because of the insidious build up of tears all day.
This time I didn’t but I felt very close to crying.
There is no reason for this temporary low, in fact all considered I’m doing great. But it’s there in the background, waiting patiently for a call-to-arms, then, the overwhelming emotions and a wet tissue.
But it’s not too bad.
No tears.
No idea why.
Just me being me.
I am ok.
I need more chocolate. 
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I am grateful I’m feeling so well but the chemo has put my life on pause and it’ll take time for me to adjust.
I wish I could hop off; but that’s not allowed.
I’m Looping safely.
