Celebrating everything, regretting nothing

It was Pat’s birthday on Sunday. See what I mean about special Scorpios?  I was really worried that my diagnosis would cast a really horrible shadow over it.  I hadn’t been able to shop like I usually do. Her birthday is one of my annual opportunities to make a big deal about what great taste I have in a life partner. After nearly 21 years every day is still fresh and brings new discoveries for us, because we are still growing, yet she is so solidly on my side – so amazingly present. We are so good. This thing is the hardest for her, I think. My imagination puts me in her position and I think I would be falling apart.  She isn’t. I  know that she’s been anxious, and battling to sleep and last week’s rota of side-effects being unpredictable meant that setting up a routine has been quite a challenge – messing up her work days. As it happened, our friends and family made it really special.

We had a splendid weekend. Lunch with the PaperHeaDs at Sioux’s on Saturday was fabulous. We haven’t been able to meet this year as much as we’ve done in the past, so it was great to have the time to catch up and enjoy witty conversation and insightful commentary, not to mention a delicious vegetarian/fruit lunch. To paraphrase Carol, “I’d missed us”.  It was the PaperHeaDs that taught me the joy of debate and academic thinking. Everyone should have a PaperHeaDs in their lives.

My birthday present for Pat was a flutter at the Casino. I don’t understand Casinos – lousy pattern recognition – so I don’t understand all the bells and whistles. As a control freak, I’m not much of a believer in Lady Luck. Pat likes it though, so when we go down I sit and drink numerous lattes whilst she flutters. Usually I get edgy after an hour and a half. On this special day, I was determined not to interrupt her fun to leave before she’d had enough! She disappeared into the dungeon and I sat and watched the Diabetes Fun Run/Walk along the beachfront. Kathy, Reg, Joan, Elaine, Mary, Shirley, Noreen and Mary from RWFL were all participating. It was great to greet them as they worked so hard. So chirpy.

And how fabulous to see all those people, big, small, old, young, multi-hued, with dogs, with wheelchairs whatever… all out there walking for a good cause.

We met Brigitte, Jax , Paulette and the kids for breakfast at 9.30.  I had my favourite, Eggs Benedict. Delicious. And no side-effects later! It was really just lovely to sit watching the passing parade with Jax talking arb and funny. Pat came home relaxed and with those brown eyes glinting. It’s been awhile.

Thank you to everyone who made the day special for us.

Since my diagnosis, our social life has certainly picked up!  We have always tended to really enjoy our home space together or both working on our different projects. There’s an aspect of the joy of the social that is about making the most of time available with special people, just in case. Another aspect is a big change in my heads, because I’m feeling so much better. This seems counter-intuitive, because surely with all the chemo toxin running around, I should feel worse? I don’t. I feel happier and healthier than I have for months. Having a reason for feeling tired when I do, and giving myself permission to nap when that happens – seems to have lifted a weight off my mind and body.

It seems now, like I’d been feeling tired during the day, for ages, despite having eight or more hours sleep  every night. I’d come home from work and ‘have a nap’ of 15 minutes to an hour, before getting up and doing evening things, email and other work. I’ve always been able to nap – on busses and even on occasion under my desk at lunch time! If I’d gone to a psychologist instead of my GP in September, I’d probably have been diagnosed as depressed.  My body has been yelling at me for a long time.

Which is why, I’m now listening.

I want to thank everyone who is suggesting treatments, actions and recipes that may help. They really are appreciated.  It’s a challenge not knowing how to evaluate all the options treatment-wise. There’s no way I can deal with it mentally, I’ll never know enough about anatomy, physiology and biochemistry. For instance, I know many people don’t believe in the efficacy of chemo and think that it does more harm than good. I have no way of measuring or comparing the options.  I’m not against alternative or natural medicines, but when the recommendtion is to stop chemo and do that instead, I’m unwilling to take the risk. Holistic medicine makes sense to me, because we are all unique and have unique lives.   The problem is that with a sample of one, one can’t do a controlled experiment against norm-referenced statistics. Right now, I’m feeling better than I have for ages, in spite of the chemo, so what I can do is be in the experience and trust the results that I observe.  I can’t evaluate the options/possibilities emotionally either. I’m not allowing myself to dwell in fear, and have to go with the feeling of lightness as my indicator of choice. I don’t know if this makes any sense. I’m still trying to work through the ideas.

Today I went down to get my bloods tested. This is to see that my red and white cells and platelets are high enough to fight infection and make running repairs during the next round of chemo. If all’s OK, I start the second cycle of chemo on Wednesday.  I keen to have another round of ‘zapping the mofos’.