Sunday, January 16, 2011

Where from here?

I try to keep this blog entertaining, real but with a smattering of irony, a glance to the past, a smile or a tear. I enjoy making the patterns in the writing, the dom - de - dom. It is about me having cancer however and a particular bastard to boot. It's been tough of course getting the diagnosis, reading the stats, telling the kids, having the surgery, the radio and the chemo but I have kept to my own "let's keep cheery " brief.

But let's be honest I am struggling now to be very cheery about the fact I can hardly pick my legs up and that last night I had more pain than four labours rolled together - even if mine were famously easy. Ok today the pain is easier so that is good, in fact I am not in pain as we speak. Last night was a flare up from the radiotherapy on my equine vestige, of course it was, why should I ever have such pain again? Oh yes there is the cancer. Readers will also have picked up that I am a celebratory slob. I like nothing better than doing nothing but read and do the odd crossword but even I am jacked off that I can't straighten my innumerable cushions the way I like them or put my book away where I think it should go. I also find that I don't like telling people what to do or asking for help with simple things, I have only one abiding religious creed - don't wake people up when they are asleep ( will have to convert the twins) so I lie around worrying about asking for things in the middle of the night or when I want a swig of morphine .

I quite like the wheelchair we bought yesterday to get me round the shops, I liked being at eye level to the stuff and not having to make any effort and I have been reminded that love is about looking after as well as looking at and I thank my lucky stars that me and Stewart know and love each other and have no modesty whatsoever.


  1. Blessed to have Stewart, I am so glad to see your appreciation for him and your relationship shine thru the pain and hassle. May you continue to be able to receive that for which it is hard to ask. My thoughts go with you, Jean.