CYCLE 3 DAY 19

Today was a family day and we all know what that means! That means waking up and thinking, “my god I must hoover everywhere and hide the washing.” That was me and I did. Not only did I Hoover every where but I discovered I was quite good with the extending fluffy thing that does away with cobwebs and dust from ledges. No that anyone ever comes in and wipes a finger along a window sill but the fear is always there that someone might. I assume its standard practice in these situation to spray as much Mr Sheen into the air as on the furniture to polish it. After all once any one has got the smell of Mr Sheen in their nostrils the assumption that the polishing has been done follows on, even if they are Mr Sheen cheats themselves. By the time I’ve been through the house the rest of the family are rousing, which is not surprising with the sound of the hoover going and me shouting “time to get up”. My partner downs a tea and sets to on the kitchen whilst my eldest daughter clears her drying rack of clothes from the newly Hoovered back room. Time for a shower and to take stock of where we are and to take my drugs.

So far so good but I am concerned about the stocks of lager so pop out to the co-op accompanied by my partner to get more Stella, a newspaper, French mustard and two packs of Trebor extra strong. It also means we get our allotted steps in for the hour. My partner takes charge of the kitchen while I move a table into it to use as an island. Once I’m done with the table I retreat. Long years of experience has taught us that only one of us can survive in the kitchen at these times. My partner and daughter turn our kitchen into a burger bar. Then we wait.

Just after 11:30 the first of the family arrives bearing cans and then a nephew and his fiancé arrive. Hugs all round quickly followed by another nephew with his wife and engaging and full of energy young son. That as it turned out was it for the day as illness, work and personal issues accounted for the rest of the family, that is apart for a sister in London and a son and family in Stockholm, both place where burgers are available. We ate and drank, drank and chatted, and of course we played “guess what super hero I am”. It was almost invariably either a green or red Hulk. It was good to sit around and catch up with each other, to hear how each of us was getting on and share our thoughts about Brexit, general elections and the madness of the world. We played Perudo, a dice game, only we dubbed it a pirate game for obvious reasons. These occasions as they gradually break up provide opportunities for family business conversations to take place and arrangement to be made. Usually by this time of year we would have a rough idea of what Christmas might look like but this year is different. Illness seems to have stirred the pot quite a lot in the family this year so no one is quite sure what is going to be possible this Christmas. Its going to be a wait and see year and then see what is possible. The guests leave after a small rouse to ensure the nephews young son is happy to get in the car, which means two of the family come back in after waving him off.

Ultimately every one leaves and we set to clearing the kitchen and the remains of the food. When finished we retreat to the TV and watch the Strictly dance off followed by “His Dark Materials”, a trilogy I have never read despite there being signed copies of the trilogy in the house. I am of course intrigued by what I would choose as my “deamon”. In the book apparently everyone has a “deamon” in the form of a creature of the opposite gender, which is their soul. I am not sure what I would choose but I think it would have to be able to growl. I retreat to blog and prepare to see the oncologist , “he who made a pact with the devil”, tomorrow morning. My partner and I deliberately think up questions to ask him, as technical as possible. We do this because of our experience that if you say your okay they wave you good bye as quickly as possible. Having left home early to avoid the traffic, queued for bloody ages to get in to the hospital car park, find the oncologist is running late, we want our moneys worth, hence the questions. So if anyone has any really good questions for an oncologist please let me know. It’s been a good day, one that at the end of I am tired but it has been a good way to end off a cycle and prepare for the next cycle. Its days like this that give meaning to my fight and my direction.