…is a Good Thing. It often makes one feel buoyant. It’s great to be back to buoyancy after having been a lead balloon for the past week. At least Pat seems to have enjoyed having me around during the day even when I’ve been whinging about the next side-effect. Look, I think we’ve adapted again much quicker than we did for the last batch of 9 rounds. I’d forgotten about the nausea meds and taking the omerprazole to stop the stomach reactions. I think I also needed to make the psychological shift back into ‘fight’ mode rather than cosy cruise. Thanks to each and every one of you who has sent me cheer and jokes to lift the mood via this blog, email, Facebook, sms and calls. Gita and Umesh sneaking in to install a water filter on our kitchen basis was so amazing. I didn’t even know they were here. (I think this pic was from Elaine. The attitude is very much what Pat was having to deal with!)
Each day since last Wednesday has been getting better. So Thursday’s feeling sick and down was a rather deep depression. I was anxious about a couple of things. One was the cough that was giving me post-exercise stiffness, apparently caused by my liver being inflamed and pressing on my diaphragm. It seemed to be going on and on. Cough mixture helped me go to sleep, but I was getting to the stage of sending Pat out to different chemists in case someone decided I was addicted. (Every Saturday we walk the dogs, we find two empty bottles of cough mixture and an empty box carton of cheap wine on the grass in front of the complex next to us. In the middle of the month it’s a 2litre box with sweet wrappers, at the end of the month a 5 litre and MacDonalds debris. Someone has a Beeeg Problem, or at least a horrible headache the next day.)
I digress. The cough has resulted in the nearest thing to ‘rippling abs’ I’ve ever had in my life, so not all bad. The big worry was the two week constipation (apologies to sensitive viewers) the effects of which gradually dominated my every waking thought not to mention my actions. I was really worried that my rectal tumour had grown and blocked me up. When the cramps hit: Sunday and Monday, I called Dr Landers. He was concerned (He has two people in hospital with vomitting and periteneal tears already) and sent me for an Xray. The result: I was vol kak (again apologies but this is the nature of this kind of cancer.)! Some judicious imbibing of dynamite, otherwise known as a fleet enema, has me a free woman at last. The Xray also showed that that tumour hasn’t grown since October. A very Good Thing.
I didn’t get much sleep last night and needed to be close to ‘facilities’ all day today. Which felt silly because I was good to work, for the first time in ages it seemed. It was the challenge of having to charge down a 15 metre corridor, release the electric latch on the front door of the office, hurtle down a flight of stairs, fumble for the loo key, unlock it and relock it once through the door, get into the stall lock it and you know the rest. Just not doable.
Pat is mightily relieved. Poor woman. It didn’t help that both Pepper and Rocky seemed to be in solidarity with me – literally. 32 Scott has been less than salubrious.
Moral: Don’t ever underestimate the power of an a-hole to give you a hard time.
Another plus of this last week’s experience is that Pat and I finally got to watch the first series of Downton Abbey. I love Maggie Smith – she does disdain so brilliantly. Usually I’m so hyper I can’t sit for longer than an hour watching TV. I need to be ‘doing stuff’. I was feeling so passive last week I was perfectly able to watch three episodes in a row, without doing anything else. We’re addicted. And guess who forgot to record the first two episodes of the second season?
I noticed the sunlight on the roses today – buoyancy.