More travel insurance

To be clear - they did insure me in the end - as a 'goodwill gesture'; but probably won't do so again.
I cried - no, I'll be honest, I bawled down the phone at them to the extent that I was barely intelligible while giving my credit card details. So much so that the woman who was dealing with me became so upset that someone else had to take over.
I hate that crying that ends up with those juddering breath/sobs that you can't stop.
They then told me to have a good trip and the woman who'd taken over said 'go and have a nice cup of tea.' - To which I replied 'I don't think tea cures cancer' - or I would've done if I'd been able to enunciate the words - it came out more like gobbledygook and I caught myself when she said she hadn't heard what I'd said and just said 'thank you'. Because, as I'd said to the other woman - it wasn't her fault and actually it was horribly unfair that she had to be the one to tell me this and to deal with a distraught person on the phone - it was the decision of the underwriters who, of course, don't deal with the customers. Which is pretty luxurious for them. I get really angry about things like that. I'm not surprised when my cancer means that I can't have what I want - but I get angry when people won't face me with it. If you're going to deny me something then you better tell me yourself and take it when I get upset and angry. You have to listen to me because I don't see why you should get to run away. Take responsibility for what you've caused. Be the big person and deal with my upset. Trust me, no matter how much you don't want to and no matter how uncomfortable it makes you - it's worse for me. It will always be worse for me. So don't be so cowardly. Worms.

So, I can no longer recommend InsurePink travel insurers if you have mets. I expect they're still not bad if you've had cancer but are now in the clear and to be fair, they have always been very easy to deal with and talk to when going through the medical questions. But if your cancer is metastatic: keep looking......

Oh, and sorry I upset you Mirriam.

Just ring! - Or actually, don't. Piss off.

Update:
They'll insure me as a one-off as a gesture of goodwill this time but underwriting changes all the time and I can try them in the future but they may not insure me (i.e won't insure me). Because they're not set up for helping people with metastases just people who've had cancer but are better now.

So there.

And it's not because I have cancer it's because I'm going to the U.S.A. - except of course, it *is* because of the cancer - because if I didn't have cancer they'd insure me.

I've had this underlying feeling this would be the last Christmas I'd have in the States. Perhaps I was right.

Oh hey! Merry Christmas! Have a great one!

***********************************************
Urgle,
waitwaitwaitwaitwait.
Ickety waiting for the Travel Insurance people to call me back and say if they're going to insure me or not.
The relevant person is only on the end of an email or something and I've been waiting for nearly 3 hours. Which is silly - they insured me a month ago for Thanksgiving - nothing has changed since then. There is no reason why they shouldn't be able to do it. I just have to wait until the supervisor ok's it.
So why am I researching other Insurance companies?.....

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.......

Round and round we go, where we stop - noone knows!

Well, what a farce that flight turned out to be!!! Like something from M. Hulot's Holiday.
First the flight was going from Gate 20 - then it disappeared from the departure screens entirely; then we got all the way to Gate 20 only to be told that the crew were delayed by a traffic accident in London and we had to return to the departure lounge and wait for a new gate and departure time EXCEPT we couldn't go back the way we came, we had to go back via 'flight connections' and go through security again. When we got back to the departures area the screens said, wait for it........
Go to Gate 20!
Again!
After standing in a massive queue to get back from Gate 20!!
Hilarious! (ish)
Go we trekked all the way back to Gate 20 and still had to wait a while for the crew to get aboard and so their safety checks. So we left an hour late.
Still - we made it - something to be thankful for I'm sure.
It's been misty all morning but the sun has finally made an appearence and the orange-yellow leaves on the tree outside the window are positively glowing.
Plus, I had a heavy, grey cat come and stand on my chest at 6 this morning (thank you Max!) why does he insist on standing on the painful bits?? Still, it's nice to have a furry, purry thing around - even if he is a bit of a bruiser.

Hey! I'm in Boston peeps! (well, Boston suburbs) - I made it! How's that?

Leaving on a jet-plane...back next week.

I'm losing track of the days of the week - I was convinced today was Monday - it's not, by the way. This not working thing makes life very confusing. I can't quite believe that I'm flying to the States tomorrow evening - especially since in my dismal moments I'd been convinced that I'd never see the place again (or get clawed by the cat again).
And now I've just noticed I've scratched myself on one of my lymphoedemic fingers - so I hope that doesn't go funky and fall off before I manage to get back. I'm doing it all the time and I've already had one infection in that finger - and I couldn't even see where I might have damaged myself on that occasion. I'll be taking my antibiotics with me; along with all the other medication - I hope they don't search my bag otherwise they'll think I'm some druggie. I think I'd better carry my 'I've got cancer' letter. (Yay! - not)
I just had a thrilling time trying to speak to the airline yesterday to ask for 'meet and assist' at the airport - but they said they couldn't guarantee it unless I also booked a wheelchair.....well, I'm not doing *that* - damnit, I can still bloody walk; it's just that if I have to stand in a 30 min security queue I'm going to get stressed, get hot and collapse in a heap. So, if they have a member of staff available then they will help; but otherwise, I'm on my own. (Just they wait until I feign a faint!! ;))
So, any Bostonians out there? Or New Englanders? How's the weather? Any leaves left on the trees? Have I missed all the leaf color-change? When's the snow going to start?

Surprisingly thankful

Well, I've reached day 16 and run out of steam - I don't know what to say today.

That said, today's not shaping up too badly - I have actually had a shower and washed my hair today. Some days that's too much for me - so, yay me! I will also step out of the house today. True, only to the supermarket and only because the Dear Other is insisting that he won't drive - lazy old me would prefer it if he did.....

Are these bad signs? The other day I managed walking the distance I used to walk to work. I did feel like I'd walked quite far and I'm not sure I'd go straight out and do the same again in a hurry. But it was only a couple of miles and I used to cover that in 40 minutes easily. I can obviously still do it but without quite so much ease. What with the dormant verdict I feel even more lost sitting around at home. I know I still couldn't get up and do a full days work. I think it's because I'm so much less sick and unwell than I was with the chemo 2 years ago. But then, that *really* knocked me out so I guess that's not so surprising. Just because it's not as bad as last time doesn't mean I'm 100% well.

I think, having had a day or two to assimilate, I am feeling pleased with the chemo's apparent success. Stopping it growing is a good thing - it's not nothing! It hopefully means that we're in control again rather than it running the show. (hear that , cancer?? You've lost some power now - just wait and see what happens next, because we're running this show!)
I think I may be finding the groove. The little bit of bite and fight that gets you through. Yes, alright, a little hope. I'm not sure what the hope is or what it's hoping for but there's a glimmer. So, I'm upping sticks and heading State-side for Thanksgiving with my mum and dad and my brother - and at least we've got a little something to say 'thank you' for. I have even found a company that will insure me at not too extortionate a cost. Insure Pink is a broker that has finally realised that cancer doesn't necessarily make you an appalling risk for travel insurance. For £70-odd (GBP) they've insured me - including the cancer. For Christmas last year I paid £80-odd (GBP) *excluding* anything cancer related - and then I didn't have mets....and nothing happened to me of course and I didn't make any claim. Hopefully it will be the same this time.
Now I just have to sweet-talk the airline into cutting us through to the front of the security queue - gotta have some perks, right?

Turkey and pumpkin pie - here I come!

The illumination, the earthquake and the Andes

Well, I'm home again.
I feel like I've been gone a lifetime and come back as someone else.
Someone else with Peruvian alpaca yarn.

Peru was an experience. Travelling with a group of 16 young women was a fantastic experience. Fantastic humour and courage and tenacity. We had illness and tears and hilarious laughter. I had some moments when I wanted to leave and come home; when I didn't think I could manage the responsibility - but of course, I did - we did. We had Peruvian hospitals and doctors; and we had copious amounts of vomit.

I have comforted so many tearful people and exuded empathy and sympathy from every pore for nearly 3 weeks. Guess what? I'm pretty good at that. If you'd asked me what I thought were my strong points before I left I wouldn't have thought to include that. In fact, I think I might have thought that everyone could do that in the way I can - but I guess not. Perhaps that's why I've had so many problems in the world - I truly haven't realised that not everyone can feel/see what others are feeling. I can. But I also discovered that I was stronger than I realised - I thought I would be overwhelmed by others pain - and I was at times - but actually I could cope with it in the moment. I could comfort and reassure through pain and fear. I could see and read and guess fear. I used my knowledge to guess where others felt frightened and I was right. I have skills I never knew I had. And it may have been exhausting but it was good. I said many times that I didn't mind people crying and being fearful and sad - that I would just be there for them and that I wanted to try and make people feel better; or at least, not alone. I think I managed some of that. I think I'm finding where I need to be.

I'm not sure what that's going to translate into but it's a better feeling than I've had for a long time. What I think I felt to be a flawed aspect of my personality - caring what people thought and how they felt - being aware and frightened of sadness and fear and anger; well, I think I now realise that it's an asset. It's something that not everyone has to the same extent.

I just hope this isn't a flash in the pan. Yet another wild dream of a moment (Yes! I want to be a fighter pilot! - No, I'm kidding; I never wanted that. I'm too much the pacifist for that.)

I think I've also come home realising how much I want to be married and a mother. I've been fighting my mothering instinct for a long time and it's not necessary.
I'm quite frightened now I've written that - and I want to shout 'no! no, I don't! It's a lie!'. But that would be the lie. I run away from making decisions. I haven't seen enough of decision-making around me. I've watched a 10 year wait-and-see scenario and I've allowed that to teach me not to make choices. I don't know how I'm going to make some choices but I'm going to have to try.

What a to-do since I last posted....
I have since then:
- had an MRI
- been to Leeds and back

On Tuesday the appointment letter for the MRI arrived and they'd neatly ignored my request for the 7th or 8th of September and made it for August when I'm away. So I telephoned to say 'no can do' and the eventual upshot was having to rush in to have it done on Tuesday afternoon. David literally had time to drive down from Northampton to go with me (thankfully). I mean, I could have managed on my own, but I'd really rather not.
So we went and had it done - uneventful except for rather profuse bleeding after the nurse removed the cannula. I think I've probably got slightly low platelet count at the moment so it took a little longer then normal to clot. So I looked quite gory for a few minutes!! ::hee hee::
At least it's done and dusted and I don't have to think about it while I'm away. When I get back I'll just have to have the portocath flushed and then the silly pre-admission thang just before surgery.
So, Thursday we set out for Leeds from Northampton. On time. Unfortunately once we'd stopped at David's parents and at Sainsburys we were no longer on time and I had to call Vis and say not to wait for us for lunch. We got there at 2.30ish (I think). It's a nice house they have and you can see the airport from their front windows but fortunately they're not under the flight path so it's not too noisy.
Lovely meal in Horsforth at the Town Street Tavern - I had some delish duck, Greek salad and creme brulee (how the *%^& do you spell that?)
Picnic in Golden Acre the next day and I finally met Zoe - she's nearly a year old and has a lot more hair than me!!! :) But she's such a smiley, good natured sweetheart - I can see why her mama loves her to bits. Anyway, we had one incident of vomiting but that was it.... (that was her vomiting, not me - for a change!)
After the park we did a quick jaunt up to Otley Chevin - lovely, green and cool. I picked a sprig of heather to take home with me (for luck, or something).
Quiet night in, watched 'Hero' - I enjoyed it, David thought it was slow.
Last day in Leeds: took Vis for lunch and then stopped at m'dad's - grabbed some stuff to take home: mostly books (of course!) then drove back to Nptn.
Nice weekend - nice to see everyone. Cat, of course, showed me her scar- I hope mine heals as well. I don't usually scar badly so I hope it won't be too obvious (except in the really obvious, only one breast sort of way). Aber and other bits of Wales next: can't wait. Have to try and find a B&B in Aber first though: the folk we were going to stay with can't put us up after all.