Grumble, grumble

The sun is out and everyone is very happy. Except for me. My feet are swollen and covered in rashes so the only shoes I can wear right now are my UGG boots. And when it's 20 or so degrees outside, the last thing you want on your feet are sheepskin boots. I could, I suppose, wear flip-flops - but my vanity is still intact so I refuse to impose my ugly feet on friends and family. So in case you bump into me, and I've got a frown on my face, take pity on my poor feet in the winter boots.

PS. Am not happy with the bald look today. Am convinced I look like Arnold Schwarzenegger's disguise in Total Recall. Not good.

An inspiration

Last week, I met up with fellow breast cancer victim A for lunch. Although we'd been communicating regularly via email and telephone, it was the first time we'd met in person. And it couldn't have come at a better time. Being a few months ahead of me in this cancer malarky, she's finished her Taxol, had the operation and has just finished her radiotherapy. And she looks fantastic. Her hair has grown and although it's very short, it's a very chic look. (Gamine would be the proper word, methinks.) Her nails are lovely and white and her skin is clear. In other words, she looked absolutely radiant. Not the wasted image you would expect from someone ravaged by cancer treatment. I am hoping that in a few weeks' time, I will come out from this experience looking as well as she.

Apart from being overwhelmed by how lovely A looked, it was also very comforting to know that we had gone and were going through the same range emotions regarding this cancer: anything from anger and denial to the current fear of recurrence. But A is staying positive and so shall I. She is an inspiration and when I am feeling annoyed at the inconvenience of this evil crab, I will think of her and feel much better.

Phew

Bloods okay, so all go for chemo tomorrow. What a relief.

Also, am really liking this bald look. I feel I look more windswept and interesting.

Egghead

Just shaved off all my hair. Wow.

I would really really like it, except my mother's just informed me that I have a strange birthmark on the back of my head. Hmm...

Heck

It's 7.30pm on Sunday and I'm in bed. I feel terrible: my head hurts, and it seems every part of my body is in pain. This past week has seen the Taxol really take its toll on me. Apart from the physical, such as the bad case of water retention, the very sensitive nail beds, the pins and needles on my hands and feet and the itchy rashes, I'm also very tired. I've had to finally stop my weekly spinning classes and last night, LH and I went to see a play and I fell asleep for ten minutes after the intermission. Oops. It was a play set in the trenches during WWI though - it was very dark plus the flickering lights were very hypnotic. I had no chance...

I am getting very nervous. I hope that I am well enough to have my chemotherapy session (number 10) this coming Wednesday. We have booked to go away during the half-term break - two days after my last session. Which means that I really cannot afford to be unwell and have my sessions postponed, as this would mean not being able to go on holiday. A few weeks ago my blood test results were borderline - since that time I have been unable to relax till 4pm the day of the test. (The nurses say that if they don't call you by 4pm, chemotherapy the next day is a go.) This is one instance when The Sick Face does not work: I need to prove to them that I am well enough to undergo chemo, so a song and dance number is more apt.

Nightmare

Literally. Woke up with a start this morning because I dreamt that I had unintentionally driven on an unfinished road by a mountainside. The car started to turn turtle and I prayed as I knew I was hurtling towards my death. I woke up then, of course. They do say that when you die in your dreams, you die in real life.

What struck me as bizarre was how calm I was; I wasn't screeching and wailing. I had just accepted my fate. This is the opposite of how I feel - although I am calm and not screeching! The thought of cancer recurrence is foremost in my mind at the moment but I am definitely not accepting it as inevitable - I will do anything I can to keep it away. Although this year has been challenging and enlightening, I certainly do not wish to experience it again.

AAARRRRGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!!!

I counted August 31st twice in my calendar which means that I don't actually finish my Taxol on the first week of October, but rather the second. I know this doesn't sound like much, but it's still terribly frustrating.

Groan, groan and all that.