a peculiar week

I am having a rather exhausting time right now - I joined Business Networking International [henceforth known as BNI] a few months back in order to hopefully create a network for myself. Networking seems the only way to get work, so I am there! We've started a new chapter, so it's been rather frazzling as we had a Launch Day; sending out 40 letters inviting guests, following up with 40 phone calls [I do so hate phone calls] and then on Launch Day [ta dah!] talking to a billion people at 7.00 in the morning after arriving at 6.00!
Ugh. That is so uncivilised. One should only have to talk to people after 10.00. The End.
Anyway, the Launch was amazingly successful - I was impressed, as I didn't really think it would work. But it does. Loads of peeps came, and quite a few are going to join [this is because we are such a nice chapter ;) ]. So. Bring on BNI. Lets hope that this time next year I am no longer having to clean chalets to make ends meet [not that I mind cleaning, but the hourly rate seriously sucks]. And through the chapter | have had a few very nice bits of work. Yay BNI!

On another note, since Wednesday I have been feeling completely hideous. Sick, low back ache, stabbing stomach pain, head ache - blah...you name it. I hate this. Seriously. All the things I have mean nothing. And all the things I have are symptoms of a recurrence. Scary thought there. And of course, the Scary Thought wins the battle every time.
I may bring my appointment forward. We will see. It always smacks of cowardice [to me] to do this, but I am struggling to concentrate, as all I think about is cancer. So maybe better to go sooner. Maybe I should just bite the bullet and wait? Sigh. Who knows eh?
Fucking cancer. Hate the way it invades my brain, my life, my work...grr! 

melancholy

Just thinking thinking thinking this evening. I've been far too tired recently. And although I have a ton of work to do, I decided to have break and just listen to some music, play some games and generally have a skive this evening. Glass of wine, Sennheisers, fags – jammies. Lovely!

Listening to the White Album…it's always going to be, and always has been, so evocative of Dad's reel to reel tape of the Beatles -

…memories of David as a baby, trundling about in a pair of terry towelling pants and a suntan cutting his teeth on empty beer cans [perfect childhood!], this photo will shock and horrify most modern mums…so funny! And so harmless..

Remembering walking to school in HOT rain in Papua New Guinea with Pete. Pete was always such a stick insect :) Pete on the left.

Mum under our house on stilts, buying fruit or carvings from the locals, who were mostly naked. And happily for us, we found this perfectly acceptable. This chap not so – he wears the sarong that normal people wore before David Beckham made it such a bore.

Mud that dried to look like broken Easter eggs – it always fascinated me as a child. Still does.

Blissful days at the beach, where the sea was warm and only about a foot deep for ages, then suddenly VERY deep and cold…floating about in massive inner tubes from the huge Mac trucks used on the mines. The sand was soft – this is one of my favourite photos of all time…

And Mum always made iced coffee – that's a surprise memory. Just recalled it. Odd how there are things in the mind hiding away. Then they suddenly surface when you don't expect it. Picnic. Iced coffee. Sun. Sand. Happiness. The hot car.

Losing our flip flops when we had to cross the river to go to school, as the mud was so gluey. Worrying about hook worm?! Mum and I had matching dresses – made by Mum's best friend Kay. I remember the colour. Blue. My favourite. I felt so important to look just like Mum. HUGE steaks cooked by Kay's husband, our adorable 'uncle' Ralph…which apparently 'fell off the back of a truck'. Heh heh. The 'Bloody Red Baron' tape. My 'best' friend Tamara. Her surname escapes me for the moment.

-

No-one else can ever know what is going on in your mind. They can never understand how you feel unless they ask – or you tell them. Therefore it's easy to assume that nothing is happening in there that's too serious. This lays one open for accusation.

Sadness is hard to share.

When someone asks you how you are, you don't TELL them do you? Well, unless you really are ok all the time? And if you do tell them, as in: "how are you?" - "oh, terrible, I feel ghastly / sad/ ill etc" – the face!! Like, ''what? You are seriously NOT going to really tell me how you are are you?'' Society dictates NOT…

So I am walking around with this big big heartbreak inside me. And when people ask how I am, of course I tell them I am fine, thank you. Or risk a strait jacket for my pains.

I am still so sad about my Dad. My heart breaks for my mum. Yesterday would have been their 50th wedding anniversary. I hope to see my twentieth. And thirtieth – we saw our tenth last year…to see our 50th I'd be 88. Well, bring it on! I shall hopefully have a blue rinse, the FH a grade 2.

Happy anniversary for yesterday Mum and Dad. I am so sorry you aren't together for this one.

hilarious

today I was chalet bashing with a young Slovakian girl who otherwise works as an au pair for my friends. She speaks good English, but still needs to get to grips with nuance and colloquialisms. So she's off to college to learn our language properly. In the meantime, she is chalet bashing with me, as we both need the cash…and today was SO funny. We had 8 chalets to clean, so started out with the customary speed, packing up all the laundry into bags whilst the loafers in the chalets got ready to check out at 10.00.

We drive all over the site in golf buggies. They are quite basic - accelerator, brake. Backwards, forwards. To take the brake off, you simply stomp the accelerator. And that's what happened…we parked the buggy, leapt out to clean the first chalet, and my Crazy Slovak Friend brought a bag of laundry off the buggy. I told her we already had one in the chalet [one we prepared earlier]. So she chucked the bag back on the stationary buggy…and it shot off up the road!! The bag [about 10 kilos] landed on the accelerator, and off it went! The Crazy Slovak was running in front of it, thinking to stop it that way - I was running at the side hoping to leap in and stamp the brake, then along came Andy [who has the longest legs here] and shoved me aside, leapt into the buggy and stamped on the brake.

Relief! And total hysteria - I so wish we had a video of THAT little incident. Laughed for ages. Heh heh.

After that the day just got silly - we had so many chalets to clean it was dizzying. So at 12.30 we decided to stop for lunch with Julie. Nattering away outside on the veranda, the next thing I knew, I'd been stung IN THE ARMPIT by a blasted wasp!! Oh my word - that hurt!! I almost knocked poor Julie for six trying to get her to rip the little beast OFF me…the Crazy Slovak did that, and Julie slapped a load of vinegar on it. That was quite a relief. Then we waited. Last time I had a Bee sting I had one of those weird 'I can't breathe' episodes. But this time there was just lots of pain [still is! silly creature] and I was fine. But it jolly well hurts!

All things come in threes and the final small chaos was the Crazy Slovak smacking her head so hard into a door that I heard it at the front of the chalet! We were so exhausted by 4.00 that we didn't know  whether we were coming or going, and all we could think about was GOING! And finally we did. Uff. What a day!! 7 hours of constant motion…

I spent an hour in the bath getting all the grime of today off me - I am now about to have a lovely COLD glass of Pinot…phew…

scar oil

I am not sure if I have posted this before, but [at the risk of being boring] this is the oil I use on my scar. Rosehip Seed oil [now sold as Rosehip oil for some obscure reason].

Originally I had a different one from a friend in Portugal, but I couldn't source it here once it ran out, so I had to change to this one, and it's brilliant; it doesn't stay on the surface of skin but sinks straight in. And it does seem to work, although as far as I can work out, the actual 'massaging' of the oil into the [healed] scar and the surrounding area helps the skin to flatten and whiten. It's not just the oil that gives the result.

"The massaging is an important part of the process and assists in breaking down scar tissue while increasing circulation to the scar site."

I think it originated in Brazil – and you know what the Brazilians are like for beauty stuff…

day 3 gets scabby

Today I am a bit less sleepy headed. I've cut the painkillers by half [not completely, as last time I did that I got ill plus a resounding ear bashing from all concerned]. So it's all still hurting but it's a 3 on a scale of 1 – 10. Negligible. Like really stiff muscles with the occasional sharp stab for reminding me not to be stupid. The bit that hurts the most is the entry wound in my navel – where they blew me up like a balloon. I shudder to think about what one looks like on the operating table – a beached puffer fish?

Anyway, I am still wondering when I can take these bandages off. I don't really like wounds to be covered up, as they can get up to mischief if you can't see them. Although I am a bit squeamish about my own wounds – don't really like looking at them too much. Whereas if it's someone else's, no problem at all. Odd.

I have actually worked out that they do seem to be waterproof dressings, but one of them has no dressing so what about that one? I wish they'd write instructions on your tummy. Arrow: wash this one. Arrow: leave this one alone. Arrow: no, that's not a wound it's a bit of fluff, put your glasses on fool.

Another thing I have been wondering is if the adhesions will come back. So I sallied forth into cyber space and found an interesting article here, that says "In order to reduce the risk of further adhesion formation, we prefer to operate with a laparoscope and very fine instruments". Good. That's what he's done, so crossed fingers they will remain banished [I rather like 'vaporised' actually].

I was going to put some pictures of Diathermy here, but they made me feel sick, so you're spared that. Gross. BUT I thought I'd share the new scabby bits. As averse to the old scabby bits – actually, for those of you about to be operated on [I think we all worry about the scarring afterward] you can see the original scar here, it's pretty amazing the improvement; and here are the three new perforations…the old scar looks pretty neat right?

See what I mean about the one at the bottom though? No dressing. And it looks like some boy scout took his Handy Craft Knife and carved 'x' marks the spot! Quite hilarious taking pictures of your own stomach I might add…plus you can see everything a lot better on the computer screen. Is this a good thing I wonder??

what happens on the last one...other stuff

Saturday 9th August

I forgot to mention some odd things - one being that every time I even bump myself slightly I get a wound or a bruise - the wounds, no matter how small, take an age to heal and bleed all the time and I am like Michael Jackson, plasters all over my fingers! I have a spray can of iodine which seems a good plan - all I need is an infection anywhere. And a good thing is I am helping to keep the Elastoplast company solvent.

Another being that my skin is SO dry - amazing. So I am also helping Nivea out [it’s the greasiest cream I can find that doesn’t cost an arm and a leg]. Maybe I should go into advertising? "YES!! Nivea is very good for chemo skin! And Elastoplast is fabulous with your Jimmy Choo shoes and Prada bag - such coordinating colours!!"...heh heh

I now have NO eyebrows, and about 2 eyelashes. I am hoping they start to grow next week [having a big mental about this - as in; thinking of them growing and they might grow faster?]. Booked myself in at Force for an Indian Head massage too - I reckon the old hair needs a bit of help, and that should be good - get the circulation going in my scalp anyway. Never had one, so it’ll be an experience! Unfortunately you can’t make an appointment, so I will have to try and sort Andrew a slot while I am there - working 6 days a week makes it very awkward for him to do anything and I think it’d be really good for his little head. Next one is reflexology! Although I can’t imagine anyone wanting to touch my horrid feet.

I am starting to feel much better all round - still odd pains etc but maybe I would have had them anyway? Next week I am seeing the Personal Trainer [ee - ogre?] OMG!! I will have to MOVE! Eek! Exercise...NOT my favourite thing, but needs must, as I have no stamina, one stone extra on my butt and anyway, it will help to be sure the cancer doesn’t return. Exercise and ginger tea! Here we go here we go....

The tiredness hasn’t stopped, but I think because I am feeling generally better in myself, it’s easier to 'manage'. Probably doesn’t help that I never sleep more than 2 hours straight at night. I think that’d make anyone tired. Waiting to see how the hot flashes go over the next 3 months, then if I am still having this 'awake all night' thing, I shall ask Dr Hong about some kind of DRUG [yeah! drugs...fab] to help it. I am hoping that once the chemo is out of my system things may chill out a bit [oo - bad pun. sorry!]. Plus it may help if I can get a bit fitter. I shall let you know about that.