Hello darling friends,
And welcome new friends who have just joined this list!
Needless to say, if anyone is fatigued by / bored with these updates, or if they just aren’t your bag, do say and I’ll take you orf.
Right! It’s a week since I got out of The Christie following the second round of chemo – and oh GAWD have I been knackered…
So apologies if you’ve emailed me and I haven’t responded, or have drooled inarticulately at you (something I do very well, apparently).
The drugs were ‘fun’ - the first one (Taxotere – you can look it up if you’re that way inclined, I am still not going anywhere near t’interweb) I don’t really notice because it’s only pumped into me for an hour. The second one (Cisplatin) is shoved into me for 6 hours, and that’s when the amusement starts. Has the dual effect of making me barf AND sleep! Luckily not at the same time… Just when I’ve got over that I get the third drug for days and days (called 5FU because no-one can pronounce it. But it does sound something like an Aztec god) which stops the barfing, but turns me into an insomniac!
So, cue inspirational power chords on guitar and Alice Cooper yodelling Poison… runnin’ though ma veins…
It was also quite a Zen week. I shared a bay with two women, who were very similar in some ways – both in their seventies, both pipecleaner thin, both with completely ruined lungs and spent most of the day on oxygen / nebulisers.
D. was sparky, cheerful, delighted to see her visitors, enjoyed little pleasures that came her way like one of the nurses taking the time to blow dry & comb her hair, or wheeling her and her oxygen tank into the garden. She told me how she used to be a real worrier. ‘But I don’t worry about anything now. I just enjoy life.’
Then there was L, for whom nothing was enough. In the week I was there she saw more doctors, health care workers, occupational therapists, masseurs, nutritionists, family and other visitors etc etc .. and yet she still said ‘no-one ever comes to see me.’
She moaned about no-one caring about her food – despite having a special diet menu made for her. She was fully mobile (unlike D.) yet, when asked if she’d like to go and sit outside in the garden in the astonishing sunshine, her immediate response was ‘I’d never find my way there.’ When reassured someone would take her, she responded ‘I’d never find my way back.’
The joys of hospital life.
Anyhow, I am back home, and am just about vertical. Have spent much of the week watching Buffy for the umpteenth time as my brain hasn’t been capable of much else… Run, Buffy, Run!
Love and gorgeousness to you,
And here’s to lumps buggering off completely,
Recycling Radioactive Waste So You Don’t Have To