Whoops!

Well, I hope some of you are cackling out loud, I certainly was this morning when I looked at my blog and realised that instead of updating the widget for my chemo countdown, I had instead managed to insert something titled 'time until next solar eclipse', or something......which I'm fairly certain is *not* in a week's time (I could be wrong here though)!
The lesson being, don't try to update these things last thing at night when someone is hounding you to turn out the light so they can go to sleep.......
Lesson duly noted.
Enjoy the joke, I cackled so loudly that the Dear Other came in from the other room to ask what the strange noise was......(just me dear!)

The way we love

I've been having a bit of a funny week.
Earlier in the week I felt like I was almost having panic attacks. I was really tired and wanted to have a nap but I could hear my pulse pounding in my ears and I felt like I had indigestion almost, but I didn't really. So I couldn't sleep, even after I'd had one and a half Lorazepam. They're supposed to be muscle relaxants but I really didn't feel like I was 'un-doing'.
Then I've been oddly angry and weepy today - I went strangely pathetic when I discovered that Dear Other did not love the bedside cabinets I'd found and fallen for and thought would be just perfect, and thought he would think were just perfect......but he didn't. I'm over it; but I felt so lost - perhaps because we so nearly always concur about things, I'm not very practised at not agreeing. Not that we were arguing about it - I think it was more feeling that we were 'out of tune' with each other and I rely on him a great deal and am very used to being 'in tune' with him that it was an odd experience to not be. If you see what I mean. But, it's a bedside cabinet - it's not going to be on display to the whole world, it's not a big deal (and I do mean that). So I have the new one that I loved and he has the old one that I secretly think he loves since he's had it since the year dot. So, that's OK.

On Friday it's going to be my brother's birthday. I had hoped to go over to the States to be there for it, but I can't because I have to go and have my Pamidronate drip and Zoldex injection. Not a very nice substitute. I've send his present and card and I'll try and get him on the phone (although that's never the easiest thing!) I've discovered I'm feeling pretty nervous about his birthday - he'll be 27. Age 27 was when I got cancer and I think I'm somehow scared that something bad will happen to him - and I don't want it to (obviously). I'd really love 27 to be the year that life opens up for him, that things go right for him; that he finds his place, his niche, his perfect job; that he stops feeling so sad and depressed. If something happens to him, if he gets sick - I'll feel guilty - like I've caused it by being afraid of it. Fairly irrational I think you'll agree. I guess I'm just saying I love my little brother and I would rather the hideous weight of the world fell on me instead of him......

Woman overboard!

You know how you pysch yourself up to go to the hospital; so you don't turn into a raving, panicking lunatic when you get there......part of what keeps me out of my tree is knowing the people. So when you suddenly have to see one of the Juniors in the Onc Clinic instead of Mme. you suddenly get all into the 'man-the-lifeboats' phase. In case you don't see where we're going with this one - this was me yesterday.
He was very nice, and very thorough - which did freak me out. Mme never bothers with the whole tap your back, tap your stomach, poke your liver, listen to excessive amounts of breathing stuff. But when you're her junior - you do every damn thing on the list because if you miss something you'll be eating your own entrails for breakfast. Or, at least, that's the impression I get....sorry Mme, you're always very nice to me though!!!
So, the result of the tapping extravaganza is that I get the same pill regime - now go away and get them...all that tapping for nought! This is making me think of the Eddie Izzard sketch about finding hidden doors - "tap, tap, tap [ordinary voice], tap, tap, tap [low, hollow voice]" Somehow I think it may work better in real life than on the printed page.
Wheee! More pills! Whoopee! (Why yes, I am an ungrateful lout....)
Had a jolly interesting conversation yesterday about cultural memory. I think I have a rather puritanical cultural memory - I am, apparently, a roundabout descendent of John Howland. So, there you go. Factoid for the day.

Blood and hair

So, the vein that had hardened up has now gone thready and the one that was still working has hardened up now......there's one left on the inside of my elbow and then we're into the deeper ones in my forearm. Ick, is all I have to say. Ick, ick, ick. I don't think I'm going to be real happy about digging for the deeper ones. I don't want to be a wimp, but I hate them looking for veins anyway.

I had the stitches from where they removed the mole taken out today - and I survived that, but then it started weeping and I have a nasty feeling that part of it has reopened.....I had wondered if I'd be healing slower because of the chemo and I think I may have been right. It's nothing major, but I suspect this'll be another awesome scar, because I always seem to scar like billy-o (fascinating word, how is it spelt?)

Clinic day tomorrow and I'm foreseeing a real drag of a day. I have cut it down a bit by going to have the bloods taken this afternoon; but they've shoehorned me into a clinic that was already over-booked and I'm not due until after 11am - lots of time for getting behindhand. Yak. The waiting really does just eat away at me - very bad for the nerves.

I had a fascinating conversation with a shiatsu practitioner the other day. I was talking to her about the whole range of things I've felt over the last 3 years (shit, nearly 3 years! I only just realised - no wonder I'm feeling antsy.) Anywho, one of the things I mentioned was the feeling of being broken - linking in with the feeling that my body is me; plus how trapped and difficult I found it trying to fit in with people in the rest of the world. She said to me that perhaps I had been broken *open* - no more hiding away from the world, more communication. It's an interesting take on it all. I'm thinking about it.

I was asked about my hair in a comment the other day. It has grown back, in abundance - it's down to my shoulders now and would be longer if it wasn't so madly curly. I'm still quite ambivalent about it. I think I should have kept to what I'd said about shaving it all off every year to teach myself not to get so attached to it. I'd probably be a darn sight cooler if I had it cut at least but I'm oddly proprietary of the curls and I'd be sad if I had it cut off and they all went away. So terribly contrary. My hair grew back quite quickly I think - my hair has always grown quite fast and has been quite thick and it still is, well, hmmm, it's sort of fine but there's a lot of it. It's also really babyishly soft still. I don't think my friend's grew back so quickly. So, there you go. I'm hairy. I quite wish all the other hair hadn't grown back though!

I have no smart title for this one

Last night I received an email from a girl I know - a not long turned 18 year old girl.
She's had a shed-load of grief in her life with the death of a younger sibling in an accident she was also injured in. She's had family problems as her parents have struggled with each other. And she ended up with a boyfriend who was violent with her - all this before 18.
But she got wise, she recognised she needed help with her grief, she realised that she deserved better than a man who hurt her, she started trying to take control. She's clever.
Last night her email told me that this man, this boy, had become so enraged with her over her breaking up with him that he attacked her, raped her at knife-point but fortunately the police arrived before he killed her. She's brave - she pressed charges and he at least pleaded guilty and was jailed for 6 months. 6 months - nothing; unbelievable. But he couldn't even give her the satisfaction of that - a couple of days ago she was told that he committed suicide in his cell, leaving a note for her saying he couldn't take being in prison for 6 months and he couldn't live knowing what he'd done to her. What a coward - to make her life even worse.

How can someone be so evil? And today, today I don't want to hear about how he probably had problems of his own, probably came from a family where there was violence, how maybe he was abused himself. Today I am simply angry. And sad. And aghast that such things can happen in this world. I so wish I could make things better for this girl, but I know all I can do is be there for her, and listen to whatever she needs to say. She deserves better from life.

And today, today I guess I know that whatever I may feel about my situation; however much I may hate cancer; I count my blessings today that I have never had to experience what she has been through.

My friends, do something - please. Donate to a *local* charity that supports rape victims; support a zero tolerance to violence against women campaign; volunteer for a help-line; listen to young women - give them support and acceptance. Do *something*.

Filums and k-nitting

St Trinian's was fun; the twins were entertaining - the whole thing was entertaining. I mean, obviously it's not going to be the next earth-shattering film; but I was diverted and didn't start thinking 'when does this finish?', and that's always a good sign! T'was also nice to grab a bite to eat with a friend and watch a film where we both seemed to laugh at the same bits - always a pleasure, yes?
However, they didn't use the classic St Trinian's song, but somehow I've come away humming it all the same.......dastardly! (now those of you who know it are humming along - ha ha!)

Did you know......you can buy customised M&Ms? Astounding.

My lace knitting is going rippingly - as in, I've had to frog one line at least 3 times, because a previous one was wrong, so then I had to go back further. Things I have learnt so far:
1) This is vital - do not attempt lace knitting when you've come back from a fraught time in the chemosuite. The tension in you will transfer to your stitches and your knitting will be so tight it's unmovable. You will also make grand fuck-ups and have to frog it several times.
2) Duh! - like a recipe or exam questions - read the pattern line through *before* you even start knitting anything. When you make sense of how the next row fits with what you've already knitted you'll recognise more quickly when it's going wonky - as opposed to getting to the last repeat of the row and realising you've make a mistake in the *first* repeat.
3) Don't be lazy - count your stitches at the end of each row - sporadic counting will lead to much frogging.
4) Do *not* stop to answer the phone or speak to someone mid-row. You *think* you will remember where you'd gotten to, but you won't.

There are probably others - or there will be in due course. However it does proceed - not necessarily apace, but languidly.

Diddly pom - peas

Clinic day yesterday - I've had an extra week off between cycles because of Christmas; I should have been there on Boxing Day, but since no-one else was going to be there I took the chance to have a 2 week break in Boston. Which was nice - but now I'm back. Blah.
So, at one point I lost my dad and thought I was going to have to go into the consultation on my own - which I've never done yet and don't ever want to. I don't think I'd manage to hold myself together on my own......he was still in Starbucks with no watch and thought I was coming to fetch him - I thought he was meeting me at the clinic. Moments of panic and no mobile phone signal for either of us but he, of course, used his nouse, noticed the time on his phone and came and found me. Phew! I did have to resort to a Lorazepam whilst I waited on my own though. Scary.
Anyway, side-effects are not judged to be bad enough to reduce the dosage yet - I'm glad about that, I don't want to reduce until we absolutely have to - I don't want to run out of time, if you see what I mean. Advice was lots of E45 - which I am doing, if a little haphazardly. My onc also said when I asked her about the whole mole thing that, yes, chemotherapy can cause changes in moles and especially their pigmentation......... would have been great if the Breast Care nurse had said this to me when I was in panic mode on the phone! Instead of claiming it was unlikely to be anything to do with it and go and see my GP. Grrrrrrrrrrrr. So, increased relief there.
Also, the lump in the lymph at the base of my neck is shrinking. It's what I'm calling petit pois sized - it's smaller than a regular pea and the onc joked that it was the size you'd send back in a restaurant..... I asked if there were any significance to that shrinking - which was jolly brave of me you should agree - and she said that generally with BC if it's shrinking in one place then it's usually having an effect elsewhere. So, it *could* be shrinking the lung and bone mets too. (Mind you, it also might not be, so no counting the chickens - I'm going to have another CT scan in the next month so she can take a look.)
So, goodish news. Hopefully this is working the way it's supposed to and hopefully it will continue to do so. Keep on keeping on as Dee said to me yesterday.

So, possible time to get up - I've spent the day in PJ's, knitting and now I'm off to see St Trinians with Sweet Camden Lass. We know two of the girls in it - the twins - and we're off to see what they've made of being 'movie stars'.......have to dress for that!!!

Knit, knit, knit

Well, I finally took heart in hands and laid into Pocketina's yarn.
She said to me that it wasn't much so not to start on a big project. So, I decided to make a mini moebius neck warmer - no pattern - just a rectangle twisted and sewn. I used moss stitch - that's seed stitch to the Americans out there (I think).
The beginning was hilarious - because I couldn't work out how to get into the darn stuff - which was so beautifully twisted together. I've never knitted from a skein rather than a ball of yarn so that was rather messy (how *are* you supposed to manage it?!)
So, the results - the pictures are rather poor sadly - the light wasn't good enough:
This really doesn't do justice to how lovely the yarn is - very soft and quite stretchy too. I knitted with 12mm needles so it knitted up really quickly. It was yellow flecks in it and some faintly sparkly bits - so, all in all lovely and I'm very pleased with the result. I also look to have loads left, which I wasn't expecting, so I'm not sure what to do with the remainder (which sadly is a rather tangled mess now - it got out of hand and I'm not sure how to go about sorting it out....::sigh:: I foresee a lengthy job ahead.
Just to amuse, I shall show you the two different sizes on needles I've been using today:
The observant among you will spot the Addi Turbos - my first set. I am officially loving them. They are being used with Malabrigo lace yarn in Indigo to make Alice's Cheshire Cat Stole. Early days with plenty of opportunity to mess it up - hooray!!
BTW - the lump in my lymph system is now officially down-graded to petit-pois size. Also good, yes?

New Year, new Blah...

Um, yeah, Happy New Year and all that.
I'm not quite sure how I categorise a Happy New Year - so, er, here's to living another year! (Imagine me lifting a glass at this point.)

Happy Holidays

Happy Christmas y'all! - well, those of you who celebrate it.

Happy ordinary December 25th to the rest of you!

I've celebrated this morning with an unhappy digestive system - no turkey for me today, I think...... :( I just hope I can manage to stuff myself with stuffing - which, let's face it, is the only reason for having turkey to begin with! I love me some stuffing...... ::sigh::

Today, Xeloda, I give you the v's - and I'm not even wrapping them up. So there.

So, I haven't taken part in the cousin's visit this morning - which makes me feel even worse. Not because I was desperate to see them (does that sound unkind? Yes, it does a bit - but that's not what I mean) - what I mean, is that it means I have to play the 'cancer-girl' role. I wanted to go and look normal and be normal and not have everyone thinking 'oh, poor her, etc.'

Crapola.

Whoo -hoo. I'm suffering with ruddy Internet Explorer instead of Firefox today - so I do apologise if my spelling is a load of rubbish. I discover I've become dependent on the in-browser spell-check with Firefox and consequently don't notice my own typo's anymore.

Sweet Camden Lass asked for a picture of the Christmas Tree Caper villain (pseudonym: Maxwell), so here he is, trying to look all innocent:

And here he is looking pissed off because he was sleeping *under the covers* and I lifted them up to take a photo (mean, old me!)

Pissy, evil-eye; yes?

Finally, we have a White Christmas (and yes, I've just grokked-out watching it this morning. It is my favorite film ever, along with anything with Fred Astaire in. *I* want to be able to dance like that and wear fancy frocks like that. ::sigh:: Not Going To Happen.)

It had snowed before I arrived and this was the view from my bedroom window the morning after I arrived:

*Pretty*

Then, we were supposed to have a couple more inches last week, but what we got was more like eight inches more - this is the house over the street in the snow:

And, then this is our back garden (well, the wilderness - my grampy liked trees - me too. I miss him lots):

*So* beautiful. The more so because I get get scared that this is the last time I'll see this; have a Christmas here; have any Christmas.

But, it may not be either - maybe I'll see many more. I hope so.

Enough - today I'll just enjoy the day - or do my best, anyway.

(Dear Other arrived last night with miminum delays - so that makes me happy :))

Happy Christmas eveyone.

Naughty or nice

Remember what I mentioned about the cat and the tree??
Well, tree met floor with resounding crash yesterday evening as the cat tried dabbling in the water at the bottom (at least that's the theory). So, some smashed ornaments, water all over the floor, sodden rug and us trying to screw the tree into the floor at 8pm.
And now he's just knocked the watering can over - more water all over the floor.
Someone's not getting a visit from Santa Claus this year........

Snow! ::grin::

Whee! Short interlude for sitting on a plane with lots of turbulence and dodgy intestinal tract - yay! Recipe for a fun trip! But I did make it to the other side of the pond and I've only got 3 more doses of Xeloda before Christmas - hopefully it'll all calm down by then. I have my onc's permission to knock off one of the small tablets on each dose if my skin gets too bad but it hasn't really - my cuticles are all disappearing and I like to be in close-ish proximity of a toilet but that's it for now. So I'll stick with the full dosage - I don't want to start decreasing the dosage until I really have to - that will just mean that I've got less of a place to go to before my body can't take any more of it. So, I'm shutting up and swallowing the damn pills. And lots of liquid to try and avoid being *too* dehydrated.....I thought last week I was getting a cold but it so far hasn't transpired (which is good) But I checked with Megan at the hospital about what to do if I got a cough (instructions in my purple chemo booklet say I'm supposed to ring them if I get a cough and I thought calling transatlantic over the Christmas period probably wasn't going to be much of a goer; so I now have *two* different sets of emergency antibiotics (on top of all the rest of the rattling lot) - I'm getting to be the drug queen........

It's snowing here in Massachusetts - we've had about 6 inches of the light, fluffy variety on top of the 8+ inches from the previous week, and I'm loving it. It's beautiful. Light and white and fresh. I stuck my head out the door earlier to take some photos and it was so quiet. I'd forgotten how quiet the snow makes everything. Even when there's nothing to hear; the silence is muffled too. Isn't that strange?
I'll post the photos later on I hope.

My memory is getting quite iffy again - hence the leaving my glasses at the Haven after Shiatsu last week. They were right on the table in front of me and I still didn't notice and left them there and had to go back to collect them another day - which is a drag because it takes at least an hour and 3 changes of transport to get there......grrrrr.

Amazon seems to have sent everything I ordered from them in an individual box - sorry, make that an individual, ridiculously enormous, over-packaged box. I'm sorry earth - I think my Christmas presents have cut down the last trees in existence. In the past they've been *much* better about it so I'm quite cross really. We went and picked out our tree yesterday and it's lovely - lots of smell and just the right shape and size - so now we have to fish out all the decorations. When we were putting it into its stand last night the cat insisted on sticking his head in it for ages - and then had a sneezing fit. Quite amusing. Hopefully this will have cured him of wanting to climb or otherwise decimate it......(but probably not).

Heartburn can See Me In Hell - getting permanently annoying now.

Right -decoration hunt begins now! Challenge!

Long time, passing

::Sigh::
Where did I go? I guess December has gotten the better of me.
What have I been up to?

Well, I had my appointment at the Royal London Homoeopathic Hospital with Dr. Kassab - who was very nice. Her office was filled with plants which was nice - green and leafy. She was very kind and it was so fantastic to talk to someone who really acknowledged how much of a problem the hot flushes are - and then went on to say that she was pretty sure she could do something to help. Which is such a difference to the usual 'well, it's crap but we can't do much about it'. I'm not saying that other drs. etc have been unkind or unsympathetic; it's just that, generally, they can't offer much help with it. Plus, it's always considered as a *side-effect* rather than a problem in its own right.
So, I cried (as usual) and explained everything that had happened to me (which I hate doing - well, the explaining the whole when it first started, how I found it and all that stuff.)
It was really quite fascinating discussing it with her - she asked lots of questions about the emotional effect and how I felt when it happened and before it happened and what it felt like. I learnt some interesting things about them through this - for example, the hot flushes make me feel claustrophobic - having to have windows open at night; feeling compulsions to take off as many clothes as I can when they happen; panicking and feeling trapped when they happen.
So I came away with an initial prescription for 'Argent Nit. ' and another for 'Glonoine' if the other isn't doing much after a month. So it's been just over a week and I'm still waiting to see what sort of effect the Arg. Nit. is having......I'm not feeling like it's helping much yet but I'll keep on giving it a go.

One of my few working veins has given up the ghost so we had to have several goes at getting the cannula in on Friday ::shudder:: I never thought I'd say this, but; I miss my portocath.....I keep joking that I'll bring in my port and they can put it back in. But I was down to 2 or 3 functioning and easily found veins in my one usable arm and if we keep going with the IV pamidronate then I'm going to run out of veins!! Plus, who knows what they'll have to give me in the future. Eventually, if the Xeloda stops working, then I may need some other drugs. So, in the long run, it may be an investment to have the portocath put back in.....I guess I'll cross that bridge in due course.

So, then on Saturday morning (of course, these things never happen on Mondays...) I noticed that a mole on my leg was looking odd and scabby and darker. So, of course, I freaked out; convinced that it was skin cancer and it had spread and perhaps this was the initial cause of it all (irrational, much?) and so on. Oh, and that the 3 cysts I have in various places weren't cysts and I should have mentioned the new one instead of telling myself it was just another cyst etc. Argh, dying, end of world, man the lifeboats, plan the funeral, finish the knitting etc.
Poor Dear Other tried to reassure me - reminding me that the CT scan would have shown up other cancer spots, that even if it was abnormal it didn't mean it was cancerous, that it was small. And it was a case of me meeting logic and going 'lalalalalal cannot understand this logic-thing, s'cuse me, too much dying to do!' Poor, poor, Dear Other - he looked so sad and said he felt so bad about not to be able to make me feel better. (Bear in mind I'd thrown in a healthy dose of 'I'm so stupid; it's all my fault; I should have done this and that and the other; bad, bad me, blah, blah, blah') Well, he did make me feel better; but I felt pretty crap to begin with so it was better on a relative scale. So, after a weekend of 'argh!' and great fear, on Monday morning I rang my breast care nurse (well, the new one - the one who knows me best is on maternity leave - the nerve of it!) who helpfully said 'hmm, don't think it's to do with the Xeloda - go and see your GP. Bye!' Not quite as much cossetting and reassuring as I'd hoped for. So, I rang my GP's surgery and asked for an appointment that day - none to be had (of course) so I asked for my GP to ring me and headed off to Shiatsu where I spent at least half the session crying and wailing before we even started - but she was very nice and understanding about my neuroticness and was even kind enough to say that she understood my point of view about feeling that the cancer was my 'fault' because my body is me. By the time I got home it was getting on for 5pm and my GP *still had not rung me* and I was cross but decided I'd just ring for an appointment early the following morning but just as I was bad-mouthing him, he rang (at 4 minutes before 6pm....) and said 'it's about a mole?' and I said 'yes, it sounds pathetic, I know.' and he was kind enough to say 'no, no - do you want me to look at it?' (er, no - why would I want that? Please just use your psychic powers to divine it's status and we shan't have to bother with all this appointments business.....) Ooh, I am bitchy - horribly so, considering that he told me to come and see him the following day - a miracle because I can't usually get an appointment with him at all. But he squeezed his schedule or something and fitted me in.
So I showed it to him, along with a bunch of other ones and my cysts, saying 'what about this one? Ok, this one? Can I just show you this?' and he was exceedingly patient and looked at them all and told me they were all *FINE*. (YAY!) But he said that if I came back in a month then he'd look again and if I wanted to have it removed then he'd take it out and send it to be tested; so I probably will have it taken off - just so I stop peering at it and poking it (which was probably why it was red in the first place - dumbo.) Then he asked if there was anything else he could do for me - which I always think if very nice but very pointless; because what can he do? I was torn between saying 'yes, make it all go away' and 'yes, come round for tea - that will make me feel better!' But I didn't say either - well, I might have said the former in a not so facetious way. But I did whine a bit about not sleeping and he gave me a prescription for some Zopiclone (why do half my pills start with a Z or an X???) - just a small number, not a long term thing but he said it might help so I can make the most of my time with my family over Christmas. So, I went home a very relieved bunny and collapsed in a heap.

Remind me to tell you tomorrow that I left my glasses at Shiatsu, I'm getting a cold, I'm collecting preventative antibiotics and to show you the *bee-you-ti-ful* lace stole I was given as a Christmas present (which I've worn and stroked every day since I got it); plus my dithering over what to make with Pocketina's hand spun yarn (I'm currently too scared to knit it in case it all goes horribly wrong and I spoil it - which will make me cry, more, lots.) Plus, plus, my envy over the meeting and fah-bulous new creations of Laurie and Rebel.

The end.

Whee! Are you still reading? Or have you slumped over in a heap of overwhelmed-ness?

It's all Wicked!

Wow - the whole lack of NaBloPoMo meant that I could have my party yesterday and not have to blog about it on the same day whilst collapsing in a heap of tiredness......
It's great!!
It did go with a bang rather than a whimper, which is always gratifying. The mulled wine went down very nicely - no-one ate enough cake or mincepies: how can this be? I am at a loss to understand this issue.
We did have a few youngsters around which was lovely - at one point there were two little girls grovelling under my table - hunting a tiger, I was led to believe. I also got to listen to a very good rendition of 'Away in a manger' - with nearly all the right words. Apparently there is 'no crib for a star' in this version - and I was quite tickled at the idea of sleeping in a star..... :)

I finally tracked down mini candy-canes to go in my mini Christmas stockings; so I'm well pleased with that!

Tonight, I am going to the theatre too see 'Wicked'! Yay! I've been wanting to see this for ages - the only flaw in the plan are the 10 Guides who are going too......apparently there have been ructions and I'm just hoping we can all have a Nice Time this evening. I've got lots of back-up though (for which I'm super-nova-ly grateful!) - so hopefully all will Be Well.

Tomorrow - is homeopathic hospital day. I have High Hopes. I hope they won't be dashed.....

Blah, blah, looking a lot like Christmas etc.

Well, it's bakety, bakety bake here today....tomorrow is our Christmas Drink part-ay. Why, yes, that is quite early but I'm having fancy afternoon tea at Browns next Saturday. Which is jolly exciting if you spent lots of your early years reading Agatha Christie (like me) - Browns is where, and what she based 'At Bertrams Hotel' on. And the weekend after - I am,...doing nothing actually. But when we planned this I thought I might have gone to the States by then. So, this weekend it was. 35ish people will descend for an afternoon of mulled wine, Christmas cake, mince pies and other such festive things. Oh, and lots of crisps - one of us got a *little* carried away on the crisp-buying front. (and it wasn't me ;))
So, I have baked a cake today, marzipaned and am about to ice another, made cinnamon cut-out cookies, made orange/lemon sorbet (hoping it freezes by tonight - slightly wishful thinking I suspect).
I've also made the bed up in the spare room and am about to fish out the Christmas tree and decorations.
This entertaining lark is hard work!

The end, done, finito etc

Welcome to the end of NaBloPoMo. I made it, you made it reading along. Done and dusted.
Now I can think about Christmas - nearly - tomorrow I can.
Last year I thought that having done a month I'd be much better at posting regularly - it didn't really work out that way. I admit I was somewhat distracted by the whole 'going to Peru' thing; so maybe this year it *will* make a difference.
Watch this space!!

I promised lots of Peru photos at the start and didn't follow through - so maybe we'll finish up with a few more to make up for it.

False face must hide....

At some point I may have to admit to myself that I've been depressed for most of my life.
Because I think doing that might mean that I could stop feeling like I'm just not trying hard enough to be happy. That maybe it's not my fault. That maybe this is something that I've inherited along with the family silver. Or not, who knows.
I think that I have always felt at odds with the rest of the world. I think I met unkindness from my peers early on in life and I could not understand why. I think it's hard to realise that not everyone feels the way you do.
It seems like there is an expectation that childhood is 'the best time of your life'; that children are innocent and untouched and unaware of sadness and badness in life. And I think there (was) a feeling that children/young people aren't/can't be depressed. I think this attitude is changing - I think today there is much more awareness of it. I don't think there was so much in the 1970s.
I think I felt sad and didn't know it. Or didn't know that it was possible to change that. I think I did know that not everyone seemed to be that way - because I think I felt that it was my fault; my problem; that if I were able to be like other people then I'd feel happy.
I also think all these terms are horribly subjective; and that it's very hard to know how other people feel. I don't think I'm the only person in the world who puts of the 'I'm OK' face and lies and lies. (What's that quotation I'm trying to think of? Something from Shakespeare; possibly from Hamlet?)
I also fear that my memories are being tainted by the way I feel now and are not a true representation. Interesting conundrum, eh?

How's that for a serious entry at the end of NaBloPoMo?
One day left - light and fluffy? Or bad and serious? You choose.

I'll moan if I want to!

Well, the Xeloda is starting to have a few more side-effects now.
The skin on my right thumb and forefinger has gone all shiny and is peeling all over the place. It's looking like I'll have no fingerprints on them (Quick! Rush out and commit crimes! They'll never catch me! - I'm kidding, right?)
The skin on the soles of my feet is quite tender now and will blister and peel if I even *look* at shoes other than my trainers. This I found, to my sorrow, the other week when I wore (not *that* high) heels to a dinner party. I was limping with both feet (this is quite difficult in itself) by the end of the evening and the little toe on my left foot was entirely made up of blister. No kidding - there was no bit of skin that wasn't blistered on it. Nice!....Not so much.
I'm back in heartburn-city, drinking peppermint tea by the bucket-load to try and stave off the having to walk round the house with hand pressed to chest at all hours.
Plus, the old lower digestive system is starting to notice and rebel - lovely. Just what I need to make my attractiveness bloom - rushing to the toilet. Although 3am seems to be the time it likes to strike. At least I'm at home then.....
Oh, and the cuticles are disappearing. I don't get that. It happened with the previous chemo-varieties too . What have cuticles got to do with anything? It's problematic in that it's not good for the lymphoedema side of me.
Flying (or something. Too much blueberry pie?) seems to aggravated my hand a bit too. My fingers are looking decidedly podgy again - grrrr. So it's back to the lurvely sleeve and gauntlet - mmmm, sexy!

Hmm, owt else I can complain about? I'm just practising for my next Onc. appointment on Weds really. My oncologist worries about me if I don't arrive whinging and complaining. I think she's finding me entirely less interesting this time around. No far-out, more-unusual side-effects this time around. (I'm tempting fate, aren't I? What an idiot.) She won't want to know about my feet anyway - she doesn't 'do' feet.... ;)

In other news, we flew back from the States on the daytime flight rather than the red-eye yesterday. Wow, *so much* better for the jetlag....we left at 9am US time and landed (with help from a very kindly jetstream) 5 and three quarter hours later at around 7.45pm UK time. Home by 10pm and ready to go to bed at a usual hour - woke up (well, as usual, throughout the night) but was in fit state to get up at 7am (I didn't, mind you; but I *could* have if I'd wanted to!). None of the 'awake until 3am and unable to prise open eyelids until noon'. Getting up at 5am to get to the airport on time was less fun; but manageable since I hadn't been there long enough to get fully onto US time anyway. I'm converted I think. I always thought it would make more sense actually but had never actually done it.
During the course of the flight, I managed to tip a full cup of gingerale onto the (fortunately) empty seat next to me and karma returned the favour when one of the flight attendants knocked an orange-juice carton onto me - it mostly went on the floor thankfully. Plus, I managed to fit in all the requisite pills at relatively appropriate times.

Goin' to Graceland.

Why is it that everything I'm truly interested in has signs on like this??

Home again, home again. I'm on the plane back to slightly-warmer London.

Capecitabine/Xeloda is making the skin on my fingers all peely. It's annoying. Welcome to the world of the banal. Lalalalallaala.

Tomorrow, we return with jetlag.......

The view today....

Well, here is what my day looks like today.....damp, but pretty.