Quite a lot of moaning. Sorry.
2012-01-10, 9:58 p.m.
Treacle (reading from a completed game of consequences): �He gave her a PayPal blessing�Family (collectively): A WHAT??
Sis (who wrote the original item) �Umm, Treac, I think it says �he gave her a PAPAL blessing�
My child: no concept of Catholicism, but pretty much ok with ordering crap off the internet.
Jooj (having a sniff of the perfume Treacle got for Christmas): Oh! It smells quite nice!
Treacle: Why wouldn�t it?
Jooj: Because its Tulisa perfume. I thought it would smell of�.chips. And despair.
*Mum hears ruckus coming from TV room*
Jooj: No Treac! No!
Treacle: Yeeeeessssss!
Jooj (stern, but laughing): No. You are NOT going to Hug Rape me
Mum: WHAT?
Both girls emerge, sheepish.
Treacle: I wanted a hug
Jooj: And I didn�t want to give her one. She took it anyway. She Hug Raped me. *wags finger in Treacle�s face* No means no, Treacle.
Mum: Hug Rape?
Both girls: Heeeheheheeehheee �Hug Rape!� Heeheeheheheheeeheehee
Mum *shakes head*
Chemo is kicking my arse at the moment. I cant seem to manage to do anything much and my back is killing me so even lying down and not doing much is painful. I can take co-codamol for my back pain but, as anyone who has ever had back pain will tell you, co-codamol doesn�t work for back pain. Im splitting my time fairly evenly between crying and apologising for crying and that seems to be filling most of the days quite nicely. Night-times are usually pretty full of �not being able to sleep� so theyre pretty much taken care of.
At the risk of sounding tedious (hell, I�M bored with it so Im pretty sure you are, too) there seems to be some kind of pattern to the side effects so I guess its just a case of going with the flow. �The flow� in this case being: have the chemo on a Thursday and kind of feel ok. Start taking the steroids, which are for�.Ive forgotten. Theyre for something, Im sure. As soon as they start kicking in I have three of four days of mentalness to deal with. I sure hope theyre doing me some good because they definitely make me mental. And not in a �goofy but cute� way, more in a �hysterical and psychotic� way. Husbands nearly die during this phase (husbands usually cry a bit here as well). Then there�s two or three days (the bit Im in at the moment) of fatigue such as I have never known in my life. Seriously, blinking is a bit too much like effort, if Im honest.
Throughout all of these days I have an overwhelming taste in my mouth which I have been struggling to identify, until now. I can now tell you that I can taste petrol. All the time. Everything I eat or drink tastes of petrol and all the time Im not eating or drinking I can taste petrol. I can smell it, too. (Yes, U.S. readers, I AM talking about gasoline � if you have ever had to siphon fuel and have even got A DROP anywhere near your mouth, you�ll know that it isn�t a taste you want to taste ALL THE TIME)
Tomorrow I start on a weeks worth of prophylactic antibiotics (which Im hoping will sort out the weird sore throat Ive got at the moment), combined with crossing my fingers to try to stave off the crummier effects of taking antibiotics (thrush, constipation etc etc).
I really want to go back to work on Monday because I�ll be forced to walk around and talk to people and stuff like that � things which I am sure will help me to feel better � but I feel like something someone just scraped off their shoe at the moment.
I have one more cycle of this combination of drugs and then I start on three cycles of something which sounds even more nasty. I would tell you what it is but Ive forgotten.
Ive had enough of this now and being brave is not coming very easy. Neither is �coping�, �doing brilliantly�, �looking well� or �managing�.
Sorry about all the moaning, dear diaryland. I would attempt to write something a bit cheerier for your delectation but Ive noticed other people get away with moaning, sometimes quite shamelessly, in their diaries and I thought I�d see how it felt.
Speaking of other people�s diaries, if you wanted to say something about something which you thought I wouldn�t approve of, or that you wanted to say but you knew I�d leave you a big long �cyber mum� comment full of bossy advice, now would be a pretty good time to do it, without fear of reproach. I am barely reading even the teeniest of other people�s entries and commenting is something which is just a distant memory. I love you all loads, but I just cant be arsed. Rest assured that, as soon as I am able, I will be back to boss you around, tell you what you should be doing (or how you should be cooking it!) how to rear your kids/please your husbands/succeed in your careers and all the other things that I seem to think its OK for me to offer my opinion on, but not today. Today you can have a day off from me. Behave as you will - I have no energy for self-righteous admonishment and you may all breathe a sigh of relief.
I offer you only what passes for amusement here today (and it isn�t funny, its just all I got) which is a photo of L giving me a comb-over with his own hair. Ha fucking ha ha.
