I forgot -- a friend is having chemo right now, and has found 2 lumps under her armpit, something that would make me vomit of fear. She has shown them to the BC nurse, and after consultations they have been diagnosed as "whatever, they will go away eventually" and now she's cool as a cucumber about them.
Sometimes I wonder if the fact that that therapy is so hard to follow doesn't contribute to its reassuring value, a bit like me being disappointed of not getting pain from the radios (but I've got a slightly cooked feeling tonight, yay~~~). The bitter drugs that heals, the disinfectant that stings... sigh, how innocent we are, deep inside.
You didn't do chemo (and neither did I): remember that that doesn't make that the destiny will punish us, or something like that. We are really not exposing ourselves more than due with our semitransgressive choice: virtually nothing for you, definitely more for me, but still not that much.
One thing I didn't write about because it's a tiny can of worms is that the Royal Marsden eventually did call me. The nurse told me that the consultant there would be happy to see me if I were "willing to do my chemotherapy" [I thought you were supposed to stop speaking like that at people when they passed being six years old?] or if the Charing Cross Hospital had been criminal to me, otherwise there was no point because everyone is able to prescribe a bunch of radios and letrazole. I told them politely that then there was no point. I was beyond appalled at that attitude of conditional help; for once, I was positively revolted with rage and didn't speak with anyone for one day (then I forgot. Sorry Dee, I know you love them, but I am a bit of a black sheep and they haven't been so accomodating of my blacksheepness). Now the receptionist at my GP has called me to tell me that my GP wants to make an appointment to discuss the letter than the Marsden has sent to her. Now, I can't stand that receptionist, she's the worst epitome of unempathetic jobworthiness that you can imagine, and I get sick only by hearing her tone of voice, let alone hearing her unearthing that lil' can of worms. I wriggled out of the appointment, I have way way too much on my plate as it is.
V. tired tonight, not because of treatment but because of life, lol. Sleeping little, bussing here and there, coding, rejecting offers: how sad that business has never ever been so good. Ok, it has been on average very good in the last two years, but now it's stellar: if only I cared, if only I were a lil' bit more in a self-congratulatory mood, if only I didn't have cancer 😄 Otherwise, I feel great, in fact I feel so great that it feels extremely strange to have therapy every day, I tend to treat it as it were some odd form of sunbed.
I am writing from a bar in High Street Kensington, I must go home now. Speak later xxx
So, a lump, and you're scared. They have mentioned an infection, but this is something that antibiotics can cure. You're scared because you think it's cancer? I understand perfectly, we are so primed, and rightfully scared, that even a hangnail now will make us cry wolf. Your sentinel nodes were clear, so please be reassured, as much as possible (which I know, it's not much, but still...) that an infection is a much likelier scenario than a random recurrence (I am no medic obvs, but I remember reading somewhere that the percentage of cancers only in nonsentinel nodes was ridicolously low, way below 1%, and anyway it can't have just popped out now out of the blue). I am glad they ordered an ultrasound because you can't live with yet one more anxiety now. You need to be free to move on from these matters, and clearly a random lump isn't exactly a lucky charm for your morale. When are you going to have it, I mean, the ultrasound?
(on an unrelated note, I think James is the loveliest of all names, you have good taste xxxx)
Mael, hopefully you got on well today?
such an early start, thoughts of east acton makes me remember when I worked down the road from Hammersmith hospital at wormwood scrubs, ahh those were the days!
I posted on the rads thread that the review today found a lump on my collarbone and an ultrasound has been ordered. They agreed that I was very swollen and hot and may have an infection
feeling miserable and scared and trying to be upbeat and not worry James, but think he can see right through my pretense
At least I've got my smear test to look forward to tomorrow afternoon!! Not
Hi Mael ,
It was so funny, my friend came with me to my first appintment for rads i changed into little housecoat and trotted across the waiting room, thankfully the inner waiting room with only her, me and odd nurse or radioligist about as i heard her say "o nice knickers" i hadnt fastened it tightly enough and for some reason the nurse had told me to take my jeans off, i kept them on for all other appointmentslol. Junex
Hehehehe, exactly 😄
I go to bed. Ocado has ocado-ed, I am so tired I could fall asleep on the floor while feeding the cat, and tomorrow is another early appointment [insert silent scream here]. Mucho love, and goodnight. x
Indeed, I will get this one and more superpowers... Tempered steel tits, glow in the dark hands, short-circuiting electric cables with my mere gaze...
Wow, Jill, I hope that when you go for the radios it will remain all fuzzy enough. It will, I am sure, it's so different from the rest. Boring as hell, but not depressing.
The hot flushes should subside as well in due time... at least we are going towards a propice season, nights are becoming fresher...
I took my own, i have a a little navy and white summer housecoast that could tie at back.,had that, Im so tiny those bloody hospital gowns swamp me, they said could take own so i did,. June
Speaking of sleep, how are you faring now Sheena? Still on a 4 hour regime or the adrenaline has finally subsided? And you, Jill? x
"Conspicuous and ill", you nailed it Sheena, it exactly how it feels.
6 tattoos! Wow. You seem to get them as they were reward stickers! Well, you can always get them erased later, sigh. Or next one, at least ask for it to be a bit elaborate, dunno, a daisy, or a dart target...
My dear ladies, this radios malarkey is getting very boring... another 27 sessions, another 27 buses for Acton, another 27 double espressos at the Costa inside, another 27 times of being posed, moved and drawed on me tits... I wonder how brutal, grumpy and despondent I'll be towards the end, pretty much like the guy in Groundhog Day (pre-illumination).
I'd go to bed but no, alas, tight-fisted me got a supermarket delivery as usual in the graveyard shift, late Tuesday night, to save £3 of delivery that are immediately reinvested x10 in fancy grub and toiletries... gonna have a shower, while I wait for ocadoman.
I've got 6 now! Maybe they are going to play join the dots at the end of my treatments and there will be a beautiful work of art on my bloob!
Such an early morning mael, I know you like your sleep!
Enjoy your Chinese Sheena, you deserve it. Imma go having dinner myself. Got up at 6.30 because of the appointment, I should put Grumpy Cat as avatar. xxxxx
Btw tried the trick of changing into the radios room, got told off rather badly -- apparently the surgical gown is mandatory for reasons of "dignity and respect" 😮 -- the nurse went "ooo noo, you're too naked!" (I was in jeans and socks, but I was standing up instead of lying down, lol). Bah humbug.
Another flaming tattoo today! Chinese for dinner tonight to make it better, sure it's not the recommended food but hey! Yummiest x
Aww, Jill 😞 I understand perfectly, even if I've "come out" to all and sundry, I still prefer not to shout it out loud in public. At least you got saved at the end!
PS if you want read this: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Illness_as_Metaphor
Shrink gave it to me -- it has taken the edge out of my self-consciousness.
(at work so skipping words etc 🙂 xxx)
Night my pretties
New thread mael, good idea although it might still just be the banker boobets that post xxc
sweet dreams xx
🙂 one, I can't really help, it's under my nose, almost literally. I have a ton of moles and freckles everywhere but the bloody thngs stands out like a landing beacon (not that I allow planes on my sternum, but now I could).