Monthly Archives: August 2012

Preempting The Mood Swings

I have been told that as I come off the steroids, I will be prone to mood swings. I will be coming off my 80 pills + cocktail a lot. Yay. Excitement. Apparently, at this moment in time in my cycle, I should feel elated. This really is not the case. I have a headache and neck cramp. As this is not the case, we could all be safe. Could.I could be safe from the anticipated outpourings of grief and sadness caused by a chemical imbalance in my body.

Nevertheless, I am imagining it to be similar to the Kronenberg comedown of NYE 2012, every three weeks for the next 18 weeks.

So, please treat this post as a warning. I may be volatile. I may cry. I may declare my undying love for you. I may tell you that I hate you or that I think you are a total prick. I may tell you that I do not like your jeggings. Just remember it is not me. It’s the drugs. I am sure that if I mean any of it, I will repeat it in due course.

That much I know about me.

In the meantime. L has made me a little reminder, just in case I cannot see the wood for the trees.

(P.S. Although I won’t be declaring my love for you, I’d welcome any declarations in my direction. I wouldn’t welcome anything mean, but that would just make you a wanker anyway, for I have cancer.)


Oh and just in case you are still reading, the poster will also work for haemorrhoids. Just in case you suffer from that affliction.

Shitting Never Gets Old

End of message 💩👍!

It Is Not A Popularity Contest, But…

… We knew this anyway. I’m a charmer. I’m a charmer. This is my discharge note by the way.




This is probably not the best place to park the walking stick when you are a Lady wearing a skirt.



I have parents. I believe I have mentioned them before… But just in case, you should note that they are excellent.

I mean sure, I did wake up to my Mother watching me sleep last week and my Mum did have to shower me the week before because I was too weak to do it myself. I found this humiliating but at the same time reassuring to know that despite my 28 years on this planet they are still around to protect me and look after me in this inexplicable time of need.

They are the best. Especially my poor Mum who has to come and clean up yesterday’s laxative spillage in my flat, some 90 miles from her house, and who has to ensure there are sick bags in the car in case i vomit later or who does not know it yet, but will wash and style my hair tomorrow so I can continue to look FIT despite the cancer.

Oh, and don’t even get me started on the Big Sister….

In short, they are not being taken for granted.


Last night’s little treat, I am going to blame on the chemotherapy… Stomach cramps. They suck. They also make you feel sick. That sucks. Have I mentioned that I am constipated again? That sucks. My whole torso sucks and not that I have tried, but I bet I still cannot eat a sausage. No sucking there.

Treatment sucks.

Must remember my home cinema and my indispensable friends, they do not suck.

This is just Day 4. I have at least 80 more days to go…

Laxative Spillage. Laxative Spillage!

Do not be alarmed. It was pre-consumption. Phew. My carpet can RELAX.

The Cancer Is Giving Me A Big Head

Once again, I have been overwhelmed with the EJ loving today. The posse of people who have replaced my lost cinema sessions with my very own home cinema for my bedroom, to the slowest Word With Friends Player Ever, to Flowers, to work reports on the Blackberry, to Middlesborough generally, to Big Sister being worried about the tone of my blogs… With this overwhelming day nearly done, there will be no medical updates today. I trust you’ll get by. We all existed before I got cancer after all.

Oh, and this is my home frickin cinema. Period dramas here I come


Memories, Misty Watercolour Memories

One day, I’ll be able to do this again


And this…


And lots, lots more besides… Come on steroids. Do some good!

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