My girl Skittles is a sweet thing, very pushy when it comes to getting rubbed on the face. She pushes her head into your hand & grabs hold of your arm so you can't get away. The biggest sook. 😻🐈 I'm very glad to have her.
I agree with you whole heartedly about getting outside, even if it is just for a couple of minutes of the day. I'm envious of your garden, especially your mulberry tree. I love mulberries. When I was a kid, I lived across the road from a trainline where there was a scraggly looking mulberry tree, & it grew the most wonderful fruit. My siblings & I would be there every chance we got, climbing up it's branches, picking loads of the berries, some actually made it into the container for Mum to make a delicious pie or jelly from. Mmmm, yum. I haven't had mulberries since I left home at the ripe old age of 18.
This weekend has been filled with doing mundane stuff. I did pick up some new glasses though . Apparently, taking Prednisolone (steroid) long term can give you cataracts in your eyes. Yeah, another thing I have to contend with all thanks to the big C.
Stay rugged up & warm - the weather isn't looking much better for tomorrow either.
22 pages now.
Waiting outside the Oncologist's office. A bit nervous about starting the next round tomorrow. But only 2 to go. I need to get my dance rhythm sorted. I haven't been able to do it for the previous cycles. It's so tempted to not show up at all. Probably a good thing Gen comes with me, to make sure I go through with it.
I'm usually quiet when I front up for chemo. I try to make light jokes with the staff. Unfortunately they have less sense of humour than me, so I have to be gentle. I keep the poo jokes to myself.
Early appointments are good. Doctors tend to run on time in the mornings. Only 20 minutes late... so far. Another person just called in before me. But I can't be mad. All these people are here for the same reason. I feel bad for them. But I can't help feeling young. Feeling like I've been struck too early in life. So many older people here. Utter nonsense though. I've been supporting Camp Quality for years and I'm well aware of the young ages of sufferers.
Talking with my friend, recently diagnosed, complaining of some of the things he has to go through. I can remember doing the same thing. I had to accept that normal is gone and I had to create a new normal. Nothing like the old normal. The goals have changed, the motivations have changed. And I have a feeling the "normal" will continue to change as I progress on my journey.
All a bit sad really. It's not helping me to find my dance rhythm. Ho hum.
I think animals are a wonderful comfort. Before I went for my surgery I asked myself - what is one thing that would make you happier right now and you have to be able to achieve it (not wish cancer away) and I was amazed to find that another puppy would do the trick. But, no. I already have two beautiful dogs that are faithful companions and that's more than enough. I thought how lucky am I that it's all it would take to make me any happier than what I already was.
I have two big mulberry trees in the front garden for over 20 years. I don't think we've ever eaten a mulberry from it. The birds absolutelyn love them. We also have some really tall and skinny crab apple trees that the cockatoos absolutely love. You can hear them squaking in the trees then lots of bangs on the colourbond roof as they break off the apples and they fall on the roof. They also drop them all over the front porchthat has cream coloured tile over it. Their droppings are then a purply colour and in spring I'm constantly cleaning up after them with a broom and a hose. I reallyn like that the cockatools find the crab apples as a good food source.
Mundane stuff is good. Never thought I'd like it so much. Sunny days too. So happy that Spring is on the way and am amazed at everyn new colour blooming in my garden. Enjoy your day.
A long, scary and quite overwhelming journey ahead of you. I'm amazed that so many people go to their appointment every day. It takes great courage. It's definitely not for the feint hearted. I saw young and much older patients waiting for radiation. Some were very, very sick and had already probably had chemotherapy. Some were hospitalised as the treatment was too much for their bodies. I always went to appointments earlier than I needed to as my husband was anxious to get me there and get to work. It was good as they'd often fit me in quickly as I was a quick and able patient.
There's a ramp that goes downward toward the main hospital that you travel on to get out. My husband would sit on a chair at the bottom of the ramp and wait for me sometimes. Once, he wanted me to sit next to him and read something in the paper. HELL NO!! I was on a trajectory to get out of the hospital and there was no way I could sit for a minute. The nurses told me that if the skin on my neck broke I would have to come and see them to have it dressed. HELL NO!! Hell would have to freeze over before I did that.
I have never been so grateful, in my whole life, that something was over. As you know. finished treatment last Wednesday. Thursday, the radiation burn travelled further along my neck and Friday too. A good weekend. Monday would be my new normal and it just wasn't. It was the same sort of thing. Cream on neck, swilling horrible stuff in my mouth to help it heal and eating almost northing as no appetite and no taste buds. I did buy petrol for the first time in 9 weeks. Bit of a bonus money saving program but one I wished I hadn't had.
Today, I've had a pretty good back to normal. I actually went to a big shopping centre nearby and bought fruit, vegetables and baking stuff. Parked my car miles away from where I needed to be and like my normal self, managed to lug all the shopping bags back to the car without stopping. Made me realise I am much stronger than I thought right now. I think normal means doing small tasks that allow you to trust your body again. It's similar to a betrayal by my body but I can't break up with it. We need to move on and trust that every day will get easier.
Normal will also mean just enjoying the smallest of things. Dogs curled up, sleeping around you while you type away to your C friends. Rain on the roof, bit of snow is good too but we didn't get any. Relationships and friendships are really important too. Food is not a help right now and I certainly hope I can get through the next few months without eating much. I am almost sick of chicken broth. Almost. Have found a baked potato in its skin and baked beans in sauce help to make it go down. Not something I would have eaten before. I cannot look at a boiled egg ever again. Icecream tastes like nothing. Can't eat any more jelly.
I do have one good thing to share with you. My father had many of his fingers blown off dismantling a bomb at the end of WW11. (That's not the good thing). It was difficult for him to eat with a knife and fork. He mainly ate with a fork or spoon. My mum cut everyone's meat up really finely, always. There are a couple of Dutch dishes that really worked well for this. One is a big pot of potatoes, carrots and one oinion - boiled to very soft. Bacon fried in a frypan with butter but you have to take it to the almost crunchy state. You then pour the bacon, butter and bacon fat into your drained potatoes and carrots. Mash together. We used to have Rookwurst with it but over the years the taste of it has scaled right down to nothingness so we don't buy it anymore. If I make it, I usually make t-bone steaks or eye fillet to have with it. You would not believe how good that onion with the potato and carrots taste. My parents ate that all through the year, possibly weekly. (They never adjusted their diets to Australian conditions). I'd make it once possibly in winter and my children loved it. Another variation is swapping carrots for endive. It is now one of my grandchildren's favourite meals. When my eldest son moved into his own house with his wife, the first dish they cooked was endive and potatoes and invited us over for dinner. Very sweet!
The reason I'm telling you this is that I made a big pot of the carrots and potatoes. It was divine. For someone who had not been able to eat anything very substantial, it was excellent and I felt full. No meat with it but I didn't need it. This dish is even better fried up the next day for lunch. I would have had heaps but some of the grandchildren were very hungry after school and polished it off. It's called Hutspot. Do try it in winter. It will warm you up and stick to your ribs.
I hope normal comes to you soon Phil. You'll get there and I am glad Gen is going with you to make sure you get there.
I've been extremely tired lately & can't help falling asleep at the drop of a hat. I just spent the morning napping in my armchair with Skittles on my lap. She didn't seem to mind my snoring too much 😴😴.
Cockatoos are awesome birds - very gutsy things. When we lived in Canberra, I started feeding 1 cockatoo that came around to our place as it didn't look as healthy as it should. Not long after, we had 32 of them coming around every day, strutting around on the rooftops of the neighbour's home, waiting for food. One of them was trying to open the container the birdseed was in, & peering in the glass doors, demanding I come & feed them. I had to stop feeding them as they started chewing up our outdoor furniture, & hubby wasn't too pleased.
@PhilPepper Phil, it was normal for my oncologist in Canberra to keep me waiting up to an hour & a half. He loves to talk, but also it is a training hospital & he always had a registrar to keep an eye on. (I've lived in or near the ACT 5 times throughout my life; my husband is in the Navy so we move every couple of years. Our last venture there had us living in Googong. I do miss looking out at those hills. One of our daughters still lives in the ACT so we are there visiting quite regularly). I hope your next round of chemo is less hazardous to you than the last. When I was attending Peter Mac down here in Melbourne, I was horrified at the amount of people in the waiting rooms. They were packed to the rafters of folk in various stages of suffering, & I couldn't help but think of how lucky I was. Yes, I am terminal, but I'm not suffering badly; am not disfigured badly; & I admired the strength of all those people going back time after time for more of the same punishment. I suppose it shows the determination & willpower of people who want to live. You will put your body thru absolute torture as long as you can get to live a bit longer.
Spring has finally arrived. We have a beautiful day here today - still a little chilly for me, but gorgeous non the less. Your Hutspot sounds delicious, Lampwork. I love potato & bacon & I might even give it a try tonight.
Cheers to everyone
Hoping you're all well this evening 💕
I'm working tonight, we've got the webinar streaming live here in the Online Community, feel free to watch it.
And just an fyi, I updated the message editor today, which includes normal emoticons from the desktop/pc version - have fun 🤣
Good morning Budgie
I am enjoying the most gorgeous spring morning here at Googong. It is quite a beautiful area for a satellite suburb. I can't wait for the road works on Old Cooma Road to settle. Intensive interruptions at the moment.
My chemo was delayed a week because cycle 2 was so brutal. This time we are going in with a 25% reduction in Capecitabine. I've been enjoying the extended period of being nontoxic. I've been able to cook again and my hands are less sensitive to the cold. I was able to eat a Sunday yesterday without it feeling like it is ripping my throat open. It's a nice holiday. Kind of depressing to know cycle 3 is just a couple of sleeps away.
Talking to my wife yesterday, I pointed out that still only have four cycles of chemo, but the anxiety before the cycle starts... five times. It is quite torturous. Always tempted to not turn up.
I watched a video on LinkedIn this morning, about a woman named Briony. Apart from not having my eggs frozen, there were so many thing she described that I've experienced on my journey. One being, just accepting the treatment. Like drones, we just fall in line with whatever they recommend as our treatment. Despite the anxiety, I still turn up, I still go through the treatment, I still just accept the side affects. One of those things we have to go through. It is funny the perspective I have on these things now. It is not the perspective I had before I started my journey. It's funny to reflect on how I've changed since my diagnosis. I hardly recognise that guy now. Claire once described us as having a gift that changes our view on life. I'm not sure if it's a gift, but it definitely changes your view on life and it's easy to see the lighter side of that.
Anyhooo... I hope you're feeling well and enjoying the warm spring mornings.
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