The Twelfth Day of Christmas, Night of Misrule, Mayhem and Mystery

Father Christmas rests on Day 12

Love those sexy pinks and lilies Helen!!!

Radio Butterflies of change

 Thursday, January 5, 2012: 1038pm
Hi there fellow bloggers, friends and family and other citizens out there in cyber space. This blogging journey is  revolutionizing my life.Opening my eyes to the infinite world of technology and how to reach the universe at the click of a computer and the tap of a keyboard. Soon the keyboard will be obsolete, too, for those who have the "the speaking programme." Many funny stories I could share on that, another time,being married to a German who can't type to save himself.

Tonight I am infinitely connected. To my Higher Power, which I usually call "God". Sometimes I call "God" other things as well, though not so much in recent times. I attended a brilliant 12-Step ID meeting tonight. Six blokes, four sheilahs - in my truest sense of that word. We had a humdinger of a session, sharing everything from cancer treatment, to suspected cancer diagnosis, to orphaned and abandoned childhoods, to crappy days at work, to happy clean and sober Christmases for the first or the umpteenth time. It was magical.

Good card Pearl!

Indeed, our pet, Pearl Cat, drew the 'Magical' Angel Card, otherwise known as Christ, this evening, intuited by my daughter, now anonymous in this blog since her reading our Christmas day semi-debacle. She will be renamed TenAR, as of her birthday, Monday, January 9.

Today was thrilling, truly Magical. Real Christmas had arrived at last, a few days late but not too bad. I used to call such days, Red Carpet days, in my using mad bad sad years. Fortunately I am approaching my 14th recovery birthday. Days like today are undoubtedly special but they are counter-balanced with days like November 17, last year, when I was told I had cancer. Best to roll with the punches, or dodge the big waves as an infectious yoga teacher wisely told me dozens of moons ago.

All the excitement, anxiety and exhilaration of preparing for almost 10AR's six hour, two-tiered birthday party on Monday bubbled so many emotions in me it was hard to cope. Remembering my own 10th birthday when all I asked for was a massive gogo watch on a wide purple suede band. It was 1970!! It was so "out" the following year my mother took to wearing it on her wrist. I have a poor history with watches and time. It's my body chemistry. They just stop working if I don't give them or throw them away first. Today I just go with the flow and hand the rest over to my Higher Power as much as I am able at any given moment. Attitude plays a huge role. And today I was in the zone.

~TenAR does Christmas & New Year tough

Almost 10AR, doing the Angel card readings, pulled 'Love' for herself, which is also known as "God" and the cards don't get much more special than the Son and the Father. The card she pulled for me was 'Sweetness', Guardian Angel, time to treat myself with extra TLC. Lo and behold, she repulled 'Sweetness' again for my husband, Michael. Quite a blowout of a reading. No wonder the family was so harmonious and we all had such a wonderful day.

Almost 10AR and I had a mega shopping spree for her Birthday 10-pin Bowling & Orange Disco affair. We then popped into the Good Luck shop for me to cheer myself up with some little treat. I have been suffering a lot of nausea and subsequent insomnia since Chemo Round 2 on Tuesday. Every day a new blight, a new challenge. I'm almost bald at the back of my head. I desperately want to change my spectacles. A million irritations, none of which are important other than staying alive; getting through each day with joy and love in my heart to the best of my ability.

So I bid adieu. I need sleep, much as I am addicted to this game. Amen. Love Gill.

PS. Thanks for all the comments, it has buoyed my spirits no end, dear friends. And particularly from my four living, loving and dearest brothers, Nick, Justin, Tony and Chris. To have you on this cyber train means the world to me. It is always been what I ever wanted. To feel loved and validated by my family, especially my siblings. I hope we can rocket 2012 into the fourth dimension and meet up again in the flesh with little holidays of renewal here and there. I am particularly keen to meet my nephews, Camillo and Jude, 10 years overdue, but never too late. Life is bountiful and infinite. Seize the day and all that. Hooray for January 6. Christmas is over and so the Lord of Lady of Misrule must retire at her own peril. Especially, Major thanks to my supporters and helpers quietly working under cover. Love you all dearly.  Gill xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx Bye, bye. 1203am

Three Weeks In, Four to go...

Woe betide me ...

I feel ill, so ill, so very very ill ...
What shall I do next?
Swish brine, swish brine, swash Difflam,
Take a pill, anti-nausea, anti-nausea pill, pill.
Try and eat, try and eat, try and eat something ...
Maybe a piece of battered fish. Hmm. That's a big decision that requires much planning.

The child wants to join Moshi Monsters on the computer.
She only talks to me when she wants something of mine.

I feel ill, so ill, so very very ill.

I sucked on a Wildberry slushy that was way too bitter,
the chocolate thick shake nearly sucked my mouth out and  tasted like chalk.

Eating without taste buds is a heinous crime. And a gross over-use of time.

I am disappointing my child. I am not conforming to her will.
She has the "Christmas 2011 morning, after ripping open a dozen presents, long face. The i-pad didn't appear then and I'm not giving her what she wants now. At least I am in control of my temper. Christmas kinda took me by surprise.

I'd never seen such ingratitude in the child. It was astonishingly ugly. I rose to the challenge, throwing her out of her room where she had lain buried with her old DVD player and new "Modern Family" discs. For hours. Fortunately, Cyclone Grant complied allowing her and Michael to  head off on loooong corrective bike ride. I tucked into "Mao's Last Dancer" which I thoroughly enjoyed. It made my Christmas. I am sorry I missed calls from two of my brothers, Chris in the morning and Nick in the afternoon. But I had no voice and nothing to share. Amy had left me speechless. The phone, too, was dead. . The messages were very welcome and well received. Hopefully I will catch up with them anon when I am feeling  brighter.

Maybe I should've seen Amy's moods coming but she's nine, always such a placid, easy child. Now she's happy again because I've given her the soft drink which tastes like acid to me. As pleased as punch you could say.

Not quite ready for raging hormones and sullenness. A friend, today, reckoned she had chubbed out in the last month.

"Yes, she is starting to fill out. It's all those Christmas chocolates, ice-cream and custards I've been eating of late." And she's still forcing herself into a pair of micro denim shorts too small for her.

The past week has been a blur of nausea and tablets mainly, with a considerable dose of pain thrown in. I have been getting slack at everything, barely able to complete the minimum of my regime. I had moments of pure revolt when I've thought I can't stand this any more and I just want to loll here on my bed and  die... Every day brings a new script for this, that or the other. The pharmacist at RDH should know me well by now with my mesh patterned face and aqueas cream up a nostril, post radiation treatment appearance. Oncology anti-nausea, radiation anti-nausea, morphine, soluble Panadol - generic brand is a $1 cheaper and I run out every two days.

It's been unbearably hot. I slather on Sorbolene in the middle of the night, post storm if I'm lucky. So far my skin is holding up. I've had compliments all round, despite the increasing number of isolated lumps. They are miniscule, probably feel much bigger to my touch than anyone else's eye.

Lee, my key radiographer, the popiscle man, as I think  of him, who would disappear into THIN air if he turned sideways, spent particular time admiring my neck on Friday.

So it is New Year almost. Time to do something about that I suppose. I have removed most of my hair. So now I look like a silver-hulled coconut. Most of my dark hair and curls have fallen away with the clip revealing a very grey-haired person. Michael says he likes the silver. Amy had trouble recognizing me. It is a bit shocking at first. So be it. Beauty is not hair deep or skin deep. I must trummel the inner depths of my being to find the finer me. She has been under pressure this past week. And definitely inglorious. Thank God my family love me. Thank God I made it to a 12-step meeting this morning to have my perceptions re-aligned and know that there is still much goodness in the world. It is indeed great to be alive.

And thank God for movies! I have watched at least one, if not three, every day since Christmas and it is a wonderful space to be in. "Meet Joe Black" - yummy Brad Pitt, Anthony Hopkins, humorous expose on impending Death; "Failure to Launch" - Sarah Jessica Parker - light and funny; "Yes Man" -  Jim Carrey, Rhys Darby, entertaining, "Anger Management" Jack Nicholson, delightful and a number of Gerard Depardieu flix recorded from SBS. So now, to assess the weather and decide how best to bring in the New Year. 2012!
The Last Sunset over Darwin for 2011