Well, look who it fucking well ISN'T!

2015-10-26, 11:15 p.m.
Came over here with the express intention of an hilarious and pithy update, explaining my protracted absence and making y’all glad to see that I am back in the zone. Actually just spent the last couple of hours dicking about reading through old entries and depressing myself at how much fun I used to be and wishing I was as young and thin as I was the first time I moaned about being fat and old.

Absolutely pointless trying to fill you in on all the various wonders that life has thrown at me in the last few weeks, so I’ll just précis and you can make the rest up as you see fit. That’s pretty much what I do anyway – make stuff up – I mean, you couldn’t seriously believe that anyone’s life was really as fabulous as I have made it out to be in the ten years or so that I’ve been telling you about it? Did you?

Firstly, it appears that I don’t have cancer any more. I’m not really sure how they know that, I just went for my follow-up appointment once the radiotherapy was finished and the consultant said “Okey doke, then. See you in February.” all cheery-like and full of little jokes about the state of my skin.

The radiotherapy was a fucking nightmare. Shouldn’t have been, as radiotherapy is generally a case of “lie here, we’re going to switch off the lights, see you in a minute….OK come back tomorrow” – I even wrote about it HERE, if you care to go look. Unforch, I had reckoned without one or two lil technicalities:

The new and exciting tumours went and fucking well GREW while I was in Corfu, which meant that the neck rest and the radiotherapy shell keeping my head in the right position conspired against me into such a pile of pain that liquid morphine had to be swigged outta the bottle and taken in conjunction with corticosteroids, amatriptyline and super strength cocodamol. The drugs turned me into a vacant zombie creature – I was still in pain but didn’t care so much.

The radiotherapy itself, seeing as it was ‘targeted’ on relatively small areas this time around instead of generally baking most of my chest (like last time), caused my skin to firstly go a bit red and then, over a period of a couple of weeks, turn scarlet then purple (when it was also red hot to touch and as painful as sunburn might be if you had got it by, say, actually lying ON the sun), then blackish grey. Once it could get no worse in terms of colour, it started falling off, in crispy shards, like burnt cornflakes. It wasn’t a sexy look.

While these two delights were taking their toll on my body and soul, I was also starting my new job. Why yes, I AM fucking mad, as it happens.

Oh, and in my spare moments (don’t! I know how preposterous that sounds) I was also rehearsing for a play.

And in the interests of not boring you rigid on a Saturday night, I’ll tell you about the job and the play next time!

Later
S
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