"Done what exactly?"
Well, you know a little while ago I got a Golden Gong – or rather a Beige Bong – for “2009 – Crappiest Year Ever”. Well, I knew I was in with a good chance of winning that one. Come on, let’s face it, the year I was told that I had a 6cm-stage3-grade3 breast tumour ... out of the blue ... it was pretty much a sure thing. Though the judges did admit to me afterwards that the fact I was diagnosed the day before my three week hols down in the south of France really tipped it for me.
Anyway .... I have now been an awarded a second Beige Bong. Yes, I am the proud owner of not one ... no sireee ... but TWO Bongs! Yes, two. I have just got my second Bong for .... drum roll please .... “2009 – Crappiest Christmas Ever”. They look cracking. My Bongs, that is. They are now sitting here beautifully symmetrical on my mantelpiece. A fine, stunning imposing pair. Here’s hoping that Dr Jordan, my breast surgeon, can do an equally impressive job on my boobs in a six or so week’s time...
So ... back to Christmas ... I had my number two Killer Chemo exactly two weeks ago. As before, the achy joint and muscle pain kicked in over the weekend. It wasn’t too bad ... on the Sunday we had a little bit of snow and I managed to go up on to the moors and take some pics. The next day or two I felt alright, other than the horrid cardboard mouth which I hate, but then I started to dip a bit. And a bit more. Then it hit. Right on Christmas day. I woke with a cold, a hacking cough ... and a very very sore throat ... with left me with no voice ... absolutely nothing ...
I spent the morning in bed and got dressed to have some Christmas dinner. Now, I don’t want to over egg this or anything ... I am not going for the sympathy vote here ... honest ... but I felt terrible and looked pretty bad. I think this is backed up by the fact that I walked into the kitchen and two rellies, who admittedly I haven’t seen for a little while, took one look at me and both burst into tears. Merry Christmas ... here help yourself to one of these Piggy-in-Blanket-Thingies ... oh, and a Kleenex ...
I made it to Sunday. Sunday at 8am. Then I knew I had to take action. I wasn’t getting any better. Now, I have this thing about NHS services ... ‘cos part of my job is to encourage people to access services appropriately. Now, before this BC thing I wouldn’t see my GP from one year to the next .... those were the days my friends ... And so I had a bit of an issue calling the out-of-hours GP ... on a Sunday ... a Bank Holiday Sunday. Then realised how stupid this was .... I’d just had my sixth chemo ... my throat was so sore I could hardly eat or drink .... I was whizzing on painkillers ... and barking like an orphaned sea lion ...
“Yes, I would really like to see you,” he said over the phone. Oh good. “You may need some antibiotics”. Just what I thought. “But if that is the case then I can’t prescribe them. You will need to go in to hospital for them to have them administered there.” Not, what I thought .... I hadn’t bargained on that.
I rummaged through the magazines whilst I was waiting to see the doctor. There was a supplement from a Saturday newspaper so I flicked through that. Aaah ... Lori Reid ... “Britain’s Best Astrologer” ... mmm ... so what has Britain’s Best Astrologer got to say about my future .... Pisces ...
With all the hard work you’ve been doing lately, you’re physically in great shape. You love parties and you’re ready to let you hair down on New Year’s Eve! Call my starline to hear which is the best day to hit the sales.
Err ... I have never been in such a worse shape. I have no hair to let down. And the last bit is the most ridiculous ... every day is the best day to hit the sales ... obviously ... doh ...
Dr H was really nice actually. Young charming chap. If my usual GP was like that then I probably would have gone to see him a lot more often ;) He had called the hospital prior to my visit so that he could find out more about my medical history and the treatment I have been receiving. He was very patient as I whispered my symptoms and my concern that I might have an infection. He checked my chest and my throat and said no, there was no infection. Basically, I had internal burns ... chemical burns from the chemo. There was nothing that he could prescribe, I just needed to keep taking the cough medicine, painkillers and Strepsils. Which I have.
So a week on how am I? OK. Better. I still have the hacking cough but thankfully the sore throat has now gone. Unfortunately, the hideous rash which I got last month, which I thought was as a consequence of an allergic reaction to the eyedrops, wasn’t. And, once again, I have chemical burn on the outside too, with my face and chest covered in severe itchy and inflamed hive-y bumps.
The good news - for everyone else that is - I still have no voice - so I won't be joining in on Band Hero or singing Auld Lang Syne tonight.
I bought myself a camera for Christmas. I know, I already have a camera. But the camera I have is big and bulky ... in your face ... so I decided to purchase a little cutie which I can pop in to my back pocket. And it is pink! Yes, how girlie. Now, I am usually very practical with these things. Normally I would buy one in black ... or silver ... with view to the fact that once I have outgrown it then I can pass it on to one of my boys ... they are both broad minded and level headed but they don’t ‘do’ pink . But I didn’t this time. I just thought sod it. I want pink. I am having pink.
So far I have taken one picture with my new pinkie camera. Yep, just the one. Of what? Of me. Yes, rather surprisingly of me. Me, who hates having my pic taken at the best of times ... and this definitely ain’t the best of times. Now, don’t worry I am not gonna post it anywhere. Not yet anyway. I think the description above probably gives you a pretty good idea of what I look like at the moment. Perhaps the word ‘pretty’ isn’t the most appropriate word to use ...
You know the last week has been really tough. The worst in terms of feeling physically poorly. I won’t lie ... there have been tears. But not that many really. Yeah, I got cheesed off ‘cos I wanted to enjoy Christmas Day. I didn’t want my children to wake up on their special day and see their mum looking and feeling so God damn awful. And all the nice things I had planned ... meeting up with my friends for brisk walks and leisurely lunches ... a Christmas party with colleagues ... have all been knocked on the head ... I was really disappointed about that. But mentally I could have been worse ... and am not quite sure why I wasn't ... why I haven’t dissolved in the middle of the kitchen floor. And the only thing I can put it down to is that I have felt so physically poorly that I couldn’t slip mentally ... ‘cos my mind and body would not be able to cope with both. Or perhaps when you feel so so bad that you know that the only way is up ... I dunno. So what has kept me going? Next Christmas. Yeah, I know, it sounds a bit odd. Especially from me ... who doesn’t really ‘do’ Christmas.
You know I mentioned that red silk dress of mine ... the one that I wore to the Christmas party last year. The one where my Little Friend said that I looked like Jessica Rabbit. Well, I have been thinking about that. Thinking about it a lot. And I have made a promise to myself ... that next Christmas I am going to be back in that dress ... and I ain’t going look like I did for Christmas 08 ... no, that is because for Christmas 2010 I am going look even better.
I am going to have the little pixie crop, just like I had done a week before my hair dropped out, and which everyone loved. My brows will be back ... and hopefully my beautiful long black lashes ... Oooh ... and as a treat ... I think I might buy some new cracking killer heels ... red of course. Then I will take a second photo with my little pinkie camera. And I will be able to say ... that was last Christmas ... poorly, blotchy and hairless ... but I made it ... just look at me now. I am back ...
The future is bright you know. It ain’t orange ... ‘cos I don’t do orange. It ain't black. Nor grey. But it might be pink. It could be red.
The future is bright. And it is mine all mine.
Somewhere over the rainbow
Skies are blue,
And the dreams that you dare to dream
Really do come true.
Someday I'll wish upon a star
And wake up where the clouds are far
Where troubles melt like lemon drops
Away above the chimney tops
That's where you'll find me.
Somewhere over the rainbow
Birds fly over the rainbow.
Why then, oh why can't I?