Ooh blah di, Ooh blah da, Life Goes On ...

Saturday, January 28, 2012.

It has been 18 days since my last post. I have been too ill to write. I don't know how well I am now but I am having a shot at it anyhow.
Deep nausea in the pit of my gut. Rolling screaming green reams of snot that pile and thresh there to be spat out repeatedly. Pink tinged. My tongue is raw. Here comes another hawk from the depths of the deep lime sea.

I am trying to latch onto a slug of Lucozade. A sickly sweet drink I could never imbibe as an ill child but I am prepared to give anything a go today. Never so many typos to clean up.  The little monkey, 10AR, has been told it is it is time to wrap Moshy Monsters on-line gaming addiction for this holiday and try something else instead. She is trying to bribe Daddy with a trip to the poor and forlorn at the RSPCA if she makes him breakfast in bed. He is coughing. Struggling to get up. All is more or less well at 8.28am.

I intend to make it to my 10am meeting, Women's Closed. A most supportive group. 10AR is onto her third cup of continental chicken soup in 8 hours. She can't refrain from talking despite my commands. Commands are useless and her soup makes me feel nauseas.

So the last post was the super successful birthday bash. We got off a few thank you notes and photos after that before collapsing in a heap and not rising from it much since the day of the calamitous news that I would indeed face Round 3 Chemo. This day was double-whammied with the reveal, pus was weeping from the whopping wisdom tooth site at the back of my mouth. My mood was not doing somersaults at the time. Had just heard another friend from church has been diagnosed with breast cancer. It can all get a bit much at times.

Armed with anti-biotics as big as calves I was to somehow swallow in my raw and tender mouth, to rid the pus deposit, constantly nauseas, awaiting a chemo onslaught in 13 days time. I retired to my second bed, the TV couch. Thank God for friend's lending me Bali Movies, The Australian Open, The Ellen DeGeneres show and other light entertainment such as Midsomer Murders.

While I wallowed in my mire of oncoming chemo, pus, constipation, nausea, green slime and pain I took the Morphine up a notch and discovered the upper echelons of wooziness on a new plane. Trippingly close to tinnuitis, the constant ringing in my ears, there wasn't much I could left myself compos mentos for.

A fabulous intense lymphatic massage was a stand-out in this period and I am deeply thankful for the gorgeous girlfriend who bestowed her loving healing hands upon me. I have possibly lost a further four kilos since that event but I am not particularly worried about that state of affairs. Last week when they told me I may never regain my taste-buds ever, sent me to new despondent lows. But it all is relevalant after a while. Just being able to suck on a cold drink without pain would be nice.

I succommbed to a little light retail therapy. Bought a couple of stunning frocks from the best Frock Shop on our Corner," Frock Me", owned by another good friend who always takes special care of me. I bought a Happy Frock to sail me through the last two weeks of radiation. And a glam frock for my dearest BFF who is turning 40 on February 2. Only hope I can sip more than a cold drink and smile appropriately. May the anti-nausea drugs kick in.  Fortunately, Ebay Ladies size 8 shoes were not performing as well as usual.

Forever grateful for this family also for embracing 10AR into their loving care. Taking her to Litchfield Park and the Wildife Park when her own debilitated parents were barely capable of keeping it together on the couch. Soon we will redouble our efforts to be there for you dear family friends.

Love and best wishes to all out there who read this blog. Sorry this has not been a cheery epistle. I have only 3 more radio sessions to go. Things could get a bit worse before better but Sid assures me the light at the end of the tunnel is nigh. Just don't go ordering any meals in tasty restaurants like the Hanuman for a good few months.

Would be lovely to hear from you all again. My spirits need a good rivet right now. Michael and I are set to celebrate 25 years of marriage on March 21. was thinking of going to an Ian Gawler Foundation Retreat in the Yarra Valley at that time but now I feel so depleted. Time will tell. Either that or it will be a simple sunset cruise on a pearl schooner, or some such thing in Darwin.xxxxxxxxx

Would love to hear your news and what you have been doing in this crazy month of January. Love to you all. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxoooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Hell in High Heels

Gerbras make the world go round

Wednesday, January 11, 2012: 0620


I am sooooo  ooooover this nausea crap!

I went to bed at 10pm last night with my anti-nausea wafer on board, for a good eight hours' of sleep. Hah! Up at midnight for the next dose of soluble Panadol, my favourite drink of the day. Back to toss and spit and gag till 2am, rising, for the back-up anti-nausea shot. Roll over with ice blocks to soothe my flaming mouth and hope I can garner a bit of repose. Up again at some ridiculous hour, 4am, for something probably not scheduled. Then 6am for more delicious Panadol and a little anti-nausea wafer. Can hardly wait for brekky....

Wish the sod in the back room would wake up and serve it to me. But then HE took it upon himself to dislodge a 30-year-old gold bridge in his mouth on Monday morning, didn't he? Of all bloody days to do that. GOD!!! Still, he was stoic, soldiering through the whole day-long 10-year-old birthday party, while eyeing off my morphine in the fridge. I'm visualizing my morphine in the fridge today. What a fine pair of 50-year-old parents, we are. No wonder 10AR, cries, "Oh my back, back spasm," any time she leans over to pick up something off the floor. Not that she does that too often.

A special BFF helped 10AR here

Wow, what a gringe! Not like me. I haven't felt this poorly for at least a week. Thankfully, I have a 12-step topic meeting at 10.30am today on the Foreshore down the road from home. It will be heavenly by the sea if a little warm. May have a breeze in the sunshine if we're lucky. Expecting a few new members to show up. Take some of 10AR's few remaining gorgeous cupcakes. I need the support of my fellow recovery mates more than ever, each and every day to keep me on the straight, narrow and flat.

Have had some wonderful emails this week. Lovely to have that connection. Saw Dr David, radiotherapist, yesterday. I am doing fine but he has run out of anti-nausea options for me because I take Lithium for my bi-polar disorder. Normally, they offer patients steroids to counter the constant sick feeling, but they may cause a toxic reaction with the Lithium. At least I have completed four weeks, he said. Three to go, so psychologically, that helped me feel a little better, passed the half-way mark. He said he would have a chat to Sid. Hopefully, they will have a solution for me today when I front up at 3pm.

I don't think I can tolerate another chemo. I will if I have to but I don't want to. I have had a gut full of this business and there are still three weeks to go. Chemo is booked for Monday, January 23. Please, please, God, remove it. Cross fingers. Pray for me, you all, please.

Scored this beautiful "discover your own style" manual at the Oncology Unit yesterday also. A Christmas present just meant for me. It is 2008 vintage but still beautiful  and untouched. I dived in for
nearly two hours after my session yesterday. Relaxing into it, I found myself to be mostly Sacred/Dramatic motivated. Not terribly revelational but interesting to see which words the writer uses to describe me so aptly. I look forward to further explorations into this book which may assist me in changing my career and steering me along new pathways in  this second half of my life, post 50, post Cancer, post Drama School, post whatever .... "Know Thyself, To thine own self be true!"

A sea of 10-pin bowlers 

10AR style!

Black Forest Torte!

10AR's birthday was a brilliant affair though it nearly polished off both her parents. Thank God, we had a host of troopers who were able to assist with the 10-pin Bowling. Despatch food and drinks, get bowling shoes to fit, golf clubs for the mini-golf. Score the mini golf. Collect paper wrappings, presents and cards. Dispense party hats, take children to the loo, all the myriad of things parents do all the time they're out with their kids at a party. The disco was a jam. Another helper came in to get the dancing happening. When I finally returned from my radio session with the help of another stalwart BFF, and five helium bobbing balloons; the five girls were casually laid back on the lounge room couch watching Jack Black in "Gulliver's Travels". It was hugely wonderful when it was all over. 10AR had a blast and loved all her presents. I'm sure the guests had a top day out also.

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