Lockdown🔒

I am used to a weekend’s lockdown. Back when I was a healthy person, I regularly had to endure a weekend’s lockdown for work and I embraced these times. It was an excuse to rest and bake. These days, now I am not a healthy person, I have a lot of time to rest and not enough time to bake. Annoyingly, I have the energy today to not rest, but my immune system is low, very low and is likely to remain so until Monday. Thus, for health reasons, and because it was this time in the last cycle I caught my cold, I am staying in the flat all weekend and sick people are strictly prohibited from entering.

What to do then? Hmmm. I just cooked a friend lunch and another friend is visiting shortly. Earlier, I did the dishes I had not done for two days because I did not have the energy to do them. I have put the recycling out. I have planned all my meals. I have produced a stool. Maybe it is time to finally conquer the knitting. I could bake whilst listening to Magic FM. I will probably wax my beard. I am most definitely going to watch a film or five, intermixed with some racy Scandinavian crime drama. I may sleep. How many hours is that? ⏳⌛⏳⌛

I bet you are jealous of my life.

All I know, is that I am going to be seeing a lot of the following over the next 48 hours…

Who am I kidding? Of course you are jealous.

EJB x

Boredom?

I am constantly being asked whether I am bored and I how I manage to fill up my days. The truth is, my days go incredibly fast. There are many things I mean to do, but do not get round to doing them because I do not have the time. That’s not to say that I am having the most fun ever; I am not, I have cancer. Importantly and fortunately, despite the short-term memory issues and in spite of My Myeloma, my brain still works.

As a singular, my days are fine. I go to the clinic and/or I see or speak to people in The Network and there will be some television involved somewhere. I am not going to list everything else that I do in a given day, but rest assured, I do not spend my days staring at my magnolia walls. Obviously, I will get bored when I am stuck in the clinic for six hours, but at least I am doing something and I have Words With Friends. My days are full. Let us not forget, I have cancer and I am undergoing treatment for said cancer, so there has to be some time, despite my protests, dedicated each day to nap time. An unfortunate side effect to My Myeloma and the treatment for it, is fatigue. I am tired a lot. The bags under my eyes are a testament to that.

As a whole, I am bored of my collective days and weeks and I am bored of the treatment. Not because I am not finding worthy things to do each day, I am. I am bored because I am not doing the things I want to be doing with my day. Social media tells me all the things I could be doing, but I can’t. I want to be going out and having a drink, experiencing the the excitement of going on a date, going to the seaside, going for a walk, an exhibition or doing any of the things normal people can do, but I can’t. I get tired. Right now, at this current moment in time, I even want to be one of those people who thinks it is acceptable to post the most mundane of mundane status updates on Facebook. I really am glad you just had a roast dinner. Well done. Shame you have to the dishes, but oh well. Having a bad day because your train has been delayed by 20 minutes? Poor you. My bones are full of potholes. I could stop looking at social media, but then, how would I know what I am missing out on?

I am bored of the tedium that is my treatment. I am locked into a schedule that is not of my making and this is boring. As last week’s cancellation of treatment shows, my life revolves around what others tell me to do. I have the choice in how I fill my free hours (location dependent) but I have no free will in how I spend my days and weeks; this is boring and frustrating.

I am bored of constantly panicking about the implications of a new or increased pain and fretting over whether my treatment will be successful. Tonight for example, I have managed to hurt the area around my left ribcage and now I am worried about what that means for my treatment and my untrustworthy body. If I get a headache, does that mean the cancer has spread and I now have a brain tumour? I am bored of this paranoia.

I cannot stop my Network from living their lives either and doing the things I listed above; I wouldn’t want them to. I am bored of being jealous of them for doing the things I cannot and I am tired of using up my energy wishing I could be doing all of these things like I used to. I am bored of constantly thinking of the fun they are having without me and worrying that they are having more fun without me. I am bored of being afraid that I will be forgotten. I suppose I do have the option of cutting them off too, but I am selfish and I need them. All of them.

To conclude, I am bored of cancer. It is all I think and talk about. I have no witty anecdotes to share that do not relate to cancer. It’s worse than that, I have nothing to share that does not relate to cancer. Cancer is taking over my life, like um… Cancer.

I don’t like me with cancer and this is boring. Cancer is making me boring. Goddammit.

The Saddest Sight

The other day I said I was addicted to Words With Friends. I am indeed addicted to Words With Friends. I can’t get enough of Words With Friends. Words With Friends. Words With Friends. Words With Friends.

It’s a problem.

I have started to take it seriously. I am learning all the two letter words and words that contain a ‘q’ minus the ‘u’. I want, correction, need these in my arsenal. WWF, as it is known, (actually I have own heard one person refer to it as this, but it is easier to type), is the perfect way to kill time in the clinic… That is how my addiction started, killing time in the clinic. What a fool.

My addiction has spiralled. I now play when I have friends round or as I found last night, in restaurants and this is just rude. And I am all about manners.

I look at my phone constantly checking for updates and my heart sinks when I see this:

Particular thanks must go to the three boys who are helping me get through the day and sometimes night.

Oh God, I am addicted.

I just don’t know what to do… Perhaps I should speak to my Doctor about it like I will the smoking. Alternatively, my counselling starts next week….

I think I am a geek.

Five Hours

This morning, I left my flat at 09:25hrs for my 11:00hrs appointment in the Clinic. The only medical requirement of the day was to receive an injection in my stomach of a medicine called Velcade. It is now the afternoon and at 14:30hrs, I have just walked through my front door. For those of you bad at maths, that is just over five hours of fun, for a single injection in my stomach.

I know that this needs to be done and although I am quite clearly complaining, I am not really complaining. I am just tired and hungry. Do you know how I know I am tired and hungry? Because my face, at this current moment in time, looks like this (it actually looks worse, but I can’t not use the filter):

I know what you are thinking, what could I have possibly have done to fill a whole five hours? Well, see below:

• 09:25-10:20 – Travel (front of the ambulance of course)

• 10:20-10:45 – Excretion and Words With Friends

• 10:45-10:53 – Hobble to the Macmillan Support to say “Hello” and fill up water bottle.

• 10:53-11:00 – Get the lift to the Second Floor and check in.

• 11:00-11:25 – Waiting… Words With Friends, attempt to refill water bottle, write a post about attempting to fill said water bottle and find a nurse and offer to have my bloods taken in Haematology instead because they look busy.

• 11:25-12:00 – Get lift to the Lower Ground Floor, check in and wait, annoy the man sitting next to me, Words With Friends, Chemospondence, and then have my bloods taken.

• 12:00-12:35 – Get lift back to the Second Floor, toilet, correspondence, flirt with the nurses, Words With Friends, speak to Big Sister on the phone, have vitals taken and ask the nurse for my blood results. All fine and dandy.

• 12:35-12:38 – Receive injection.

• 12:38-13:30 – Book return travel and wait. Waiting… Waiting time includes getting Haemo Dad to explain my blood results, Words With Friends, talking to my favourite lady in Macmillan about my weekend and hair loss, correspondence and listening to music.

• 13:30-14:30 – Travel, this time, unfortunately is not in the front of the ambulance.

Jealous? Of course you are.

Bad Comedy

I have a problem and it is not Multiple Myeloma… I think I have regressed to my childhood and I am now obsessed with the Police Academy films. Not Number 7 – ‘Mission to Moscow’; I still have standards. That film doesn’t exist, for the same reason ‘Indiana Jones and The Crystal Skull’ does not exist.

The rest of the Police Academy films though? Awesome. Multilayered and complex screenplays about good overpowering evil, examining our personal responsibility to challenge corruption at all levels in order for us to maintain a decent and healthy society. The questions of morality addressed through the first six films, is unparalleled within the American comedy franchise genre. The writer/s and producers achieve this with such subtly and precision, it is almost subliminal.

Maybe it is time for me to see that MacMillan Counsellor….

From Soho To Bed

Okay, so it is the tiniest collection, but with my fancy shiny toy via the Curzon website, I will be able to watch new art house releases simultaneously with the cinema release, direct from my bed. I cannot express just what this means to me. I bloody get members’ discount as well.

Happy Wednesday Film Fans!