Hoo ya and Mr Frodo

I smiled into the mirror today and got a few wrinkles.  Which means the Moonface is finally deflating.  Hoooo yaaaaaaaa as GI Jane would say.

I have also decided to rename my cancer Mr Frodo – to be said with a bumpkin accent, please.  Mr Frodo is a character from Bored (Lord) of the Rings.  I cannot recall the story as I fell asleep during the film when it arrived on the big screen but what I recall, I stupid little annoying thing did nothing but move around and irritate me with no obvious advantage to me, it or life in general.  Seems apt.

Looking forward to laughing my (less achey) arse off tomorrow evening at Jimmr Carr Live in Salisbury.  One of the boy’s Chrstmas presents.  I might dress suitably Christmassy.  Although getting dressed would be an advance on today.  Whoops.  Good day but busy busy with admin!

Reality check

Never watched the Ross Kemp in Afghan before.  On now.  Had switched laptop off for the night but felt inspired to write.

Bloody hell.  An achey arse muscle and a bit of cancer is nothing, is it?

These guys have to suffer ration food, heat, d&v, getting shot at, being away from their loved ones.  Not to mention getting shot at and dealing with local casualties.  I know the British Army is voluntary, but damn.  Considering I was with a soldier for some years and know a few more, you’d think I would have considered it more in the past.  But I’ve only ever seen news reports on this type of thing.  And that’s a bit like watching Neil playing Call of Duty on the XBox.  This is real people, real life, filmed as it happened.

Anyone who finds me inspirational, thank you.  But even I need to toughen up sometimes and realise that my shit is not big shit.  Not by a long shot.

I don’t know enough to comment on whether the UK should or should not be at war with anyone or any country.  But I do know that I am very grateful to those who choose this way of life in the name of our country.  May God, PMA or doughnuts, whatever you believe in, keep you safe and bring you home safely when you’ve finished.

Technical update

Not really of interest to most, but I know some other cancer patients follow me, so thought I would share.

My piddal has been quite sweet smelling of late so I thought I’d mention to the Oncologist.  They took a pee sample and it turns out I have a Urinary Tract Infection.  2 tablets a day for a week and it will be gone.  Just 15 tablets a day at the moment then!!!  No pain etc and apparently it’s common on chemo, but I didn’t get it last time.

Oooh, me butt!

Yesterday evening, my butt started aching.  Good excuse for a massage from Neil.  This morning, it really ached so I’ve had the shiatsu massager on it today and took some painkillers.  Seems to have done the job, though not perfect.  Massagers to to be perfect perfect perfect, owwwwwwwww.  I wonder if they are supposed to grind away the odd bone.  Who needs a coccyx anyway.  I can’t even spell it.  Or can I?  Can’t be bothered to look it up.

Apart from that, I have slept quite a bit today and been a domestic goddess by cooking fry up for lunch and proper (if a little too peppery) cottage pie for dinner.

Now off to fiddle with me butt again to see if I can stop it hurting again.

I'm turning into a junkie

6am and I woke with hurty ankles.  Supposed to have a lie in today.  10am the alarm is set for.  ‘We’ve’ just finished earlies and moving to lates so I shouldn’t be awake really.  Wanted my steroid.  Down to 1 a day now.  So I got up and taken it, with food, so may as well have Rice Krispies and here I am.  Not sure where the chemo drugs Neil collected are.  Think in my bedroom drawer, so they can start later today.  They don’t make a difference to how I feel though, so I don’t care about them.  Weird that the steroids are the ones giving me side effects, yet I found the need to take them.  Did take a Cod Liver Oil as well, though.  I wonder if I forgot yesterdays with all the changes and that’s why ankles hurt?  Yes, that’s what I’ll say and then I can pretend I have an excuse for hurtyness and still be progressing.

Looking forward to trying Reiki for the first time this morning.  I don’t know anything about is really but I was ‘drawn’ to it so am trying it.

Now.  Shall I shut up and go back to bed or do some work. mmmmmmmm

How not to stare

I meant to blog about this before and forgot.

The weekend I moved, the ‘workers’ and I went for some scoff afterwards to The Quay at Poole.  Quite spit ‘n’ sawdust.  Nice food.  We had a good time and stuffed our faces.

But I got stared at.  Now, I’m used to being stared at.  Whether it’s because I’m arsing about, being vocal, training, or just being generally gorgous, people stare.  I blogged before about Mum commenting on that way back when I shaved my head.

And now I do have a shaved head, obviously, more people look, double take, even if it’s not a stare.  Sometimes it is.  Children are the loveliest as their eyes pop out of their head and they say in their perfectly hushed (use opposite) tones ‘Mummy, that lady has NO hair’. 

I’ve been asked by children and adults alike ‘why’ or ‘if I’m on the mend’ and had ‘good lucks’ etc.

All of this, I think, if perfectly normal human behaviour and to be expected.  People like a ‘norm’ and those that don’t conform need to be scrutinised.  I am lucky, I guess, to be blessed with an attitiude that, generally, people don’t mean harm and it doesn’t bother me.

However, back at The Quay.  There was this (fugly) woman at the table opposite who kept staring out of the corner of her eye ALL the way through lunch.  Just at me, not us in general.  It drove me nuts.  Have a good stare and look away.  Come and say something if you have a question.  But don’t do the corner of the eye thing.

It wound me up so much, that as we left, I walked passed her, said something quite loud to Becs about being stared at.  She said she’d noticed it and nearly said something, but didn’t want to make me paranoid.  That was it!!!!  I went back to her, leant over her and said ‘thank you very much for staring at me all the way through my lunch and making me paranoid’.  I flicked my hair and stomped off.  ‘I wasn’t’ was the pathetic wail I heard behind me.  I didn’t.

So, guys.  I’m not saying don’t stare.  I do it.  We all do it.  But imagine what it’s like on the other end.  Smile, say something, poke your tongue out, stick your finger up.  But you ain’t Lady Diana so don’t try.

Here endeth the rant.  I’m off for a mummy home made biscuit.

It's the 4Networking way

Just checking in before doing lots of notalot today and saw a Tweet about me.

Great friend and MD of 4Networking, Brad Burton is one of my biggest fans.  Throughout running my business and also through this whole charade, he has been a star.  I will be accused of other 4Ners of kissing his ass.  Believe me.  No thanks.  I’d rather drink his sambuca!  He and the whole network have supported me in so so many ways.  I’m going to do more write ups on that in future, without this turning into a business blog.  But mostly, I comment because it’s emotional and practical support that they have offered me.  Beyond wildest expectations.

Anyhow.  This Tweet.

Goes like this:

“hah.. tall, attractive, 1 nork, wonky leg, bald & beard. UR a porn perverts dream and i love ya. Does that make me a pervert”

The answer is yes.

If you are involved in business, check out the free forum – it’s mad, funny, very useful and if you get it right, it generates BUSINESS.  Yes, real stuff that gives you money.  However, see if you can get it right.  Dive in and sell, sell, sell and you won’t.  You don’t have to be a business person but you do have to add some value.  I know my parents lurk (cringe at my posts) and I wouldn’t mind betting that they, one day, won’t be able to resist logging in and commenting.  Wonder if they will be users ‘Mummy Pash’ and ‘Daddy Pash’.

It’s also a massive, UKandgoinginternational network.  You MUST LOOK!

Manic Monday, except it's Tuesday!

Oh golly, what a snappy pants I have been today!  Sorry to those who were on the receiving end.

It was a good day except I think I tasked myself with wanting to do too much and then got frustrated when running behind schedule and I can’t deal with multitasking so well at the moment.  Even to the extent of trying to speak and put food on plates at the same time.  What with that and the hairy face scenario and now an inabilty to multitask, I must admit, I am starting to wonder if I’m grow a wonka any time soon.

Hospital update.  Not much news really.  Chakkers not worried at all about any side effects – all down to the steroids apparently and we have a plan to reduce them further.  I was asking about physio for my legs, circulation (have FREEZING legs and feet except when I go to bed).  He was very firm that I just need to relax and not push my body.  No exercises recommended – just keep mobile, don’t sit in bed all the time (as if!?) and let my body do what it needs.

The actual process at the hospital frustrated the hell out of me and led me being a right snappy pants.  There over 2 hours for what should have been a simple consultation and prescription but no one told me to get there 30 mins early and get bloods done.  So have had to come away without the chemo drugs and need to collect those tomorrow to start another 2 weeks of tablets.  Ho hum, positive head back on, it’s the first time since June I have been really annoyed with the service, so really can’t complain…the NHS I still think we are extremely lucky to have.  Good point, they got blood out of me first time.  7 attempts Boxing Day which I think was last time they took blood.

So in a mood, we dropped my friend off who had also had an appt in the hospital (sorry to keep you there so long, sweetie.  Kept tell myself it was nice for you to be out and about, but must admit, would have chosen a better venue!). 

Managed to get Dad a parking ticket with my spacker badge as he parked in permit holders only and a spacker sticker is not a permit.  Apparently! 

Then on to the dump to dump an old chair.   Which we missed the closing time by 5 mins so Dad has gone home with it and needs to dump it his end (sorry poppa smurf).

Nothing to whinge about in Tesco, and pleased with the way I power shopped round, ably assisted by Mum.  Did have a ‘oh shut up child’ moment which was a bit loud.  But so was the child.  Touche.

Home and shopping away, thinking about dinner, putting shopping away, hungry.  Snap snap snap.

Food done.  Yummy home made Scotch Eggs from mummy and a buffet with cakes and biscuits by mummy calmed me down.  Clearing up by Neil. 

Pirate nonsense, Scrabble, chats and laughs with Neil and Margaret the final calm down and now ready for the pit.

Good night world.  I will greet you and do very little with you tomorrow but find teeny tiny things to marvel over.

Is there a cure?

Broccoli. Reiki.
Chocolate.  Crystals in a Pocket
Vitamins.  Things in tins 
Prayers.  Chairs.
Nuts. Doughnuts? mmm
Pills.  Thrills.
My head fills.

What to do?

Love.  Laugh.  Do a bit of what I am drawn to.  Like I always have, I guess.

Ok so I need to stop now!

Another fab day.  Out for wedding flower viewing and lunch (3 hours!) at the Cow.  Met by Jax and her buddy for a catch up.  Couldn’t get up from the sofa, cue them wanting to help me.  Me being fiercly stubborn and refusing.  Not wanting to cause a scene.  Probably got more looks with the hubbub than if they’d pulled me up.  Ho hum, I did it own my own eventually.  Managed to walk from the car back to the house through the weird slushy, very slippery snowy stuff without going down.  Finished off the braising steak and dumpling dinner that I’d put on before I went out.  Oooooh, I’m very Nigella.  It went down a treat.

But crikey, I am knackered now.  Happy but knackered.  No plans tonight and no plans tomorrow, so that’s all good, just gonna chill.