My Breasts Are Too Big

This was the name of the television programme that was on last night as I sat at this very computer contemplating what to put in my latest blog update.  The programme was about women who had large breasts and weren't happy about it, so they underwent cosmetic surgery to get them reduced.  Needless to say I was never contacted to appear on the show.  However, it did make me rethink this whole 'cancer' thing.  And I have decided to rebrand.  I'm not having surgery to remove cancer from my body.  I'm having cosmetic surgery to remove my thymus (having one is soooooo 2009) and then additional cosmetic surgery to have half of my liver removed because it's too big.  Just like those lovely ladies last night with their big breasts.  


We met with the registrar oncologist yesterday who confirmed that the first of my cosmetic surgeries (thymus removal) will take place within the next couple of weeks.  A brief recovery period of a few weeks will follow (typical for that particular kind of cosmetic surgery) then my liver reduction surgery.  The recovery from my second round of cosmetic surgery will again take a couple of weeks.  Once this is all over (which will be soon - I promise!) I'm not sure I'll be getting a call from the BBC asking to appear in a documentary called 'My Liver is Too Big'.  And my breasts are just fine thanks.

Domestic Goddess-ness

Please accept my sincerest apologies for the recent radio silence.  It would seem that having a cold whilst undergoing chemotherapy isn't ideal - and probably not recommended.  It's been a tough week, but here I am on the other side - and ready to shout to the world that I am a Domestic Goddess.  Curious?  I knew you would be.  I hope you're sitting down for this, 'cause it's good.  Today - I hung washing out.  Yes, I hung washing out.  I am a Domestic Goddess.  I can appreciate that the significance of performing this menial task may be lost on you, but given that over the past 7 days I've hardly been able to eat, shower or walk down the stairs without needing to sleep for hours afterwards it was a pretty big deal for me.  And it made me feel like a Domestic Goddess.  Having not only the desire to do it (lethargy is a bummer!) but also the energy to do something as mundane as hang washing out was a pretty big deal for me.  So I did it.  And for approximately 11 minutes on this fine Wednesday morning, I was a Domestic Goddess.

They say the second time is easier

Well, as an observer I'd have to disagree with that statement. Whether it's a by product of the cold that was on its way out when this round started, or whether it's just a very different experience, it's certainly not been easier this time around.

Today is the first day Lee has managed to stay awake for longer than three hours at a time. I'd guess she's been sleeping a minimum of 18 hours a day. Vegetarian tendencies haven't been as strong but then again, she's not had an appetite at all. Next step would have been force feeding her but thankfully, she's felt up to dinner tonight.

All being well, the next post will be riddled with humorous tales.

A shell of my former self.....

Today was round 2 of chemo, and so far so good.  I won't bore you with the details, because it really is boring.  And I have confession to make.  One thing that has worried me from the outset of this attention-seeking exercise is that the chemo and surgery would knock me around so much that I would become a shell of my former self.  I consider myself to be a reasonably proactive person, so I took steps to ensure this would not happen.  I allocated 'entertainment portfolios' to my friends.  Let me explain.


I was warned that chemo could take me to the depths of despair, and that being in hospital following surgery would literally suck the life out of me.  So all in all I was preparing for a soul destroying experience.  Not really something I was looking forward to. I formed an action plan, and slowly began implementing it.  One by one I assigned entertainment portfolios to my friends, and gave them the low down on what's expected of them.  The conversation/s went something like this..."If you want to come and visit me in hospital or at home after surgery then you need to entertain me.  I don't want you sitting at my bedsite looking at me all pitiful and sad.  That is unacceptable. You need to make me think of something other than how sucky this all is. So, if you're going to come and visit me then you need to entertain me.  You are now Minister in charge of............."  So far I have friends who have accepted the portfolios of teaching me to play backgammon (Craig), playing cards (Greig), jigsaws (Bridget Roper), crosswords (Matt), trashy mags (Rosemary), and manicures (Tina).  


I'm unsure whether I'm confessing to being worried about becoming hollow, or about selflessly using to my friends to keep me real.  I'll let you decide, but irrespective, I'm mildly comforted by the fact that even if I do become a shell of my former self I will still serve a very important purpose..........if you hold me up to your ear you might just be able to hear the ocean.