I have a song to sing-o

La, la la la la.....
What do I want to say - hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

I want to say 'thank you!' I had some very nice comments/emails recently which I do love. It's nice to know who all those people I 'see' on my stats are. I've emailed/commented back to some of you but there was at least one Anon with no email address so I can't - so 'thank you'.
I know it's OK to still be finding things difficult but I don't want to be still finding things difficult. I don't *like* difficult - I like to be difficult but I'd rather things weren't difficult for me. Hmmm, karma? And I am talking about all this shit. I do. I am. But it's part of the endless refrain: 'It takes time' - time, ha! Who has time? I don't - I had cancer - I have no time. I'm on borrowed and stolen time. 100 years ago cancer would have killed me; 50 years ago my odds wouldn't have been brilliant; 2 years ago I was lucky; for now I'm holding on with baited breath. Living with NED.

La, la la la la......
Hmmm
It's my birthday on Monday - nowadays, a touchy time of the year since my birthday in 2005 was two days after my first chemo - oooh, nothing says 'happy birthday!' like nausea and sickness! Last year - not so good either. Too busy remembering nausea and sickness. Forget, brain, forget!

La, la la la la.....
I have finally agreed to let the surgeon take out my portacath - I have now had my port accessed to be flushed about three times as many times as it was used for chemo. Perhaps time to let it go, no? Plus I don't want any trouble with it when I'm in Peru in the summer and it'll need some time to heal up and settle down again I should think. I was trying to work out why I'd felt so ambivalent about having it removed when I had such trouble with the idea of having it put in. Mostly it was about not wanting to be cut open again and partly the last time I let them do surgery on me I came away with one breast. Which I knew was going to be the outcome, and I know it was necessary and I know it's probably saved my life - but I don't like it and, irrationally, I blame my surgeon for it. I am really angry with him for mutilating me like this. I am literally half a woman now and it is his fault. So, not feeling good about letting him loose again. I have demanded sedation for the removal which is done with local anaesthetic because I DO NOT want to know what is going on; I do not want to be aware of what is going on otherwise I will shrivel up and squirm and then they will miss and I will end up a mess. Irrational, much? So, this time in three weeks it will be gone - just the wound will remain to fade to join the other scars I've accumulated over the last two years.

La, la la la la la aaallalaalla,
That's a skimming of the top of my brain - there's lots more and I should write it down more often.