By 08:30am, I had the beef in the slow cooker, bread ingredients in the bread machine, leek and potatoe soup bubbling away nicely on the hob, and the bedding in the washing machine. As I whirl about my kitchen liked some crazy domestic bald goddess, I look like I should belong in an advert for kitchen appliances. Everything I have is getting a battering! The dog looks at me wondering where I get the energy from. He has seen me on my knees in this kitchen, crying into the sleeves of my nightgown, totally battered by the side effects of the cancer. I think he prefers me that way. Less noise. I am good at silent crying now. I have it off to a fine art. I notice he is getting fat. He had his balls off about 6 weeks ago – he too had a huge tumour dangling there that they say was cancerous. Now he is 10 years old. So the poor bugger is doing bloody well considering. Since the op, like me he has not given in and has kept on. But as Golden Retriever’s do when they are castrated, they get chubby. He is widening around the middle and I smile….we have a lot in common now Buster!!
With a cup of tea in one hand, and a coffee in the other, I make my way down the hall and gently put the coffee on my husband’s bedside table.
He stirs and comes to life. He’s had a bad night’s sleep, so a bit grumpy, so I guess my invigorating conversation about the morning’s activates pass him by. I don’t know if this is a man thing, but the minute I am awake and the day floods into my racing chaotic brain, my thinking gets going and usually starts with ‘What shall we have for dinner’. If I ask him this question at this time of the day, he looks at me like he wants me dead. If he had a gun and could get away with it – he would. Despite my ,mad hour, I drop my hairless big body back in beside him. We chat about the day ahead and I feel relaxed and actually feel well. yes, well. A far cry from the last recent weeks. I am not feeling like utter shit, and I can actually feel some skin returning to the roof of my mouth. Right now to me, this is what I guess would feel like if I won the lottery. I can feel the roof of my mouth and I want to celebrate! can’t taste a bloody thing and don’t know if what is going in is hot or cold, but I have skin where I should have.
Up and off we go in different directions. It’s my birthday tomorrow so I’m determined to get my blog published and promoted. This has ben a long time coming. I am anxious, I have already told you that…… and the hesitation persists within me. Shall I just keep this for me? This could be my legacy in case the cancer does finish me off. Which lets face it. It might. I am not out the woods. Will I ever be? I have to get a social media presence and that my lovely people scares the living hell out of me. But not as much as dying from cancer does.