So it’s 8th June 2015 and my boy has turned 21years old. He is stuck in Canada with the Army and so another year goes by without sharing his birthday together, it’s been like this since he was 15. No birthday cake, no phone call but thankfully for the internet I do send messages and finally get a reply.
It’s day 4 of Chemo and apart from slight side effects I’m doing okay. I can’t touch or drink anything that’s cold it has to be room temperature and Rebecca brought me two sets of gloves to wear to handle cold things from the now demon fridge, bless her.
The 12 tablets I take each day are administered by Steve the now drug lord of the house! Not sure which tablet it is but one of them makes your bum tingle like someone has put the sweets ‘Star Dust” up there, now you have to be a child from the eighties to get that joke. Itching is the only way and I broke my nail, no sympathy for that in this house.
I think my on hand nursing team are a little disappointed that the Chemo hasn’t made me feel more ill, not that they wanted me to be ill but the build up prior to taking these chemicals was unknown. In fact they have cured my constant running to the loo all day and at this rate I’ll be heading for the laxatives, oh my good my poor bum.
I really wanted to get as much history into this blog before it went public but my best mate Nicky decided she wanted to share it and so modern technology steps in again and the world of our friends and family start to read my ramblings. Within a few hours I was contacted by so many people with messages of support and love, I can’t thank you all enough. I cried at some of these messages and if I can just help one single person through this blog then I have won. You are not alone in your pain and sorrow for dreading losing your life when it’s under threat, it’s okay to be scared and angry, it’s just not the British way to admit all those emotions so instead when asked we say “I’m fine” and cry alone.
