Okay so I lapsed in my writing again.
It is impossible to try write a sentence when your brain is turned to mush by a cocktail of drugs that may on some fucking off chance help you… if they don’t kill you that is.
I can’t bore you with the details of phase one trials, weekly hospital visits, long sessions in MRI and CT machines that never show me anything positive.
I have have had another 5 months of poison turning me into a vegtable, unable to get off my couch while the cancer continues its invasion, spreading, spreading, spreading.
So what does this mean?
- I am never going to hear the word “remission”.
- I am never going to hear the words “disease contained”
- I am done with operations and biopsies.
- I am done with chemo.
- and my home has suddenly been invaded by machines that hum in the background and some of most extraordinarily wonderful nurses. Palliative nurses. Palliative. This just means the drugs are a nicer. Slightly more fun.
The next step of this journey has begun, and it feels like I am in the Millennium Falcon hitting some kind of Hyperspeed… it’s a bit patchy.
My days are gentle.
10 days off the chemo and my mind is clearer, food suddenly tastes delicious again and I want to do things. The Laundry. The paperwork. Cook even.
I am spoilt -I had three weeks to say goodbye to Africa in December.
The days grow longer and we see occasional glimpses of Spring
I am still surrounded by the most amazing family and friends who walk this road with me.
My lover loves.
My daughter fills our home with noise and laughter and my heart overflows.