CHEMO DAY 4

In case you were wondering this is my writing shed in the garden. It is my retreat space were I shelter from the usual pressures of the world and of course the family dynamics when they get a bit prickly. This usually is a result of me trying to impose my obsession for order and tidiness in the home. I found it indispensible to have a space in the open air where I could see my garden and let nature do its best work on me. I often get distracted by the butterflys, bees, and next doors prowling cat, Bumblebee, who appears to be a prodigious hunter. I’m fortunate to have this space but I owe the inspiration for this to Vita Sackvile West and Virginia Wolfe who in their own ways created garden spaces in which to write. It is also the space where I have read most about cancer, end of life care and what I face in the coming months.

I like to to keep some things close to me when I am writing and working. One recent present to me from a friend and co author of a recent conference presentation is opposite. It makes me smile and reminds me to keep things simple. It also reminds me of a beautiful installation currently showing at the Yorkshire Sculpture Park (YSP). It is Kimsooja’s To Breathe installed in the chapel. Its only there till the 29th of September, but worth the effort. But the YSP always is.

Yesterday I left the blog with a picture from a friend, which had been sent to me in response to my diagnosis and blog. At that point in the day I was flagging and the household routine had kicked in. The prosaic tea to have, fish and chips was easiest given that my partners singing teacher was due to arrive for her weekly at home session. Originally a present from me to support my partners wish to be able to sing and one day sing with others. It’s an ambition that is getting closer. So I was left with the evening to fill before my end of day blog session. Fortunately Mr Amazon had delivered an adult jigsaw. In reality a chiar that turns into steps. We thought this was a good idea when we started clearing out cupboards we could not reach and teettered periliously on old wicker chairs. An interesting challenge which took longer than expected and ultimately made me forget to take my night meds, that, and writing the blog, but it was a successful completion. We can now rummage through our storage without falling to the floor. The last thing I need right now is a broken bone or to develop a habit of having “little falls.”

  • The Jigsaw puzzle
  • The completed Chair
  • Chair magically transform to steps,Genius

Today starts well, dry bed, and some uninterupted sleep although I immediately check how I am. Its a sort of heads to toe check to see if I can feel it all and move the bits that should move. Mental checks are a bit more tricky but I feel okay, in fact very okay. As Deborah James says in her book F*** You Cancer: ” -and okay is good- hell, okay is bloody brillant!”

So today is a normal day. That’s another self injection, remembering to avoid the waist band region, taking my meds, paying attention to my dental hygene and waving farewell to the old double bed as the Heart Foundation take it away to a new home. My partner suggested a super king size bed so that we could keep onsleeping in the same place. More acurately she could sleep while I hot flushed like a human Chenobyl. So far so good, it seems the extra space means she can sleep and I can steam quitely far enough away so as not to disturb her. So today is get the injection done and get on with it. Doubltless I will let you know at some point how it goes. I am aware that I live in a state of pre-emptive anxiety, expecting at any moment to be unexpectedly gripped by a chemo side effect. I find it undermines my confidence but at these times I just grit my teeth and try to do it anyway. I think my fear is a very British one. I just do not want to call attention to my self. The thought of flying off the back of a gym machine and needing to be assisted is not a pleasant one. Suddenly going wobbly in public is definitely not an experience I want, but nothing ventured nothing gained. The support number is in my phone, my appointment card is always with me, I’ve memorised my nhs number, what could possibly go wrong?

One thought that keeps returning to me is a dyslexic one. This is a struggle to do and I know I could create and copy/paste in another media in order to spell check the material, however it begs the question how WordPress have got into 2019 without adding spell checking to its creation suite?

Keep it simple.

The rest of the day

OKAY, AND THAT’S BRILLIANT

3 thoughts on “CHEMO DAY 4”

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