Well this week I have realised that it's all about the 'chood. Innit?
The woman in the chair next to me is 4 years older than me (I am called 'the young lady' in here...) and has colon cancer. This is our conversation;
Her: "My cancer is incurable"
Me: "But it is possible to shrink tumours until they are almost non-existent - and you can live with it"
Her: "No, it's incurable, it's spread to my liver and pancreas"
My reply: "Oh mine's spread too, to my liver and lungs"
Her (visibly shocked): "But you look so healthy and you still work, (pause and deep sigh) I expect you're a 'positive person'."
Me: "Maybe - I just want to carry on with life."
Her: "I'm not a positive person. I wish I could be but I can't"
Wow, and how terribly sad. She clearly feels so impotent and destroyed. I am not saying this in a smug superhero type of way. I have grieved and raged against this disease too, and I don't think I am a particularly brave or strong person; but I have never given up.
We have no idea how this tale ends, but I have no plans on spending the last, or any (!) chapters feeling miserable and sitting waiting for the finale. Not when there's still so much good stuff going on and so much fun to be had. Brilliant early morning dog walks, giggling with Al, watching Rosie shake her booty, feeling so proud of my gorgeous, clever Ilias and watching Zak grow into a young man (with added airhead features). Life is just to good to spend waiting. Too wonderful and beautiful.
Good Lord. I think cancer has turned me into a hippy, or back into a hippy.
In other news if the poor lady sitting next to me wasn't suffering enough, Al stole her orange juice (he says by mistake). I think she should be happy as she ended up with posh m&s orange juice with added mango as a replacement, but it's still worrying behaviour. Look at Anthony Worrel-Thompson.
|This man steals from cancer victims.|
|Crime never pays.|
None of this, however, was as shocking as the man two chairs down (he of last week's fame) loudly discussing with his chair neighbour (who he met for the first time today) how he'd "been straining and pushing for 45 minutes to do a number 2". So when Al told me via text (I had headphones on) that 'Man with Number 2 issues' had also informed her, in tones of great and advanced medical knowledge, that her special socks were designed to stop her getting "a DVD" in her leg, we became hysterical with laughter. This medical guru then added that she wanted to avoid DeepThombone at all costs... I was giggling so much that a nurse turned round with a worried look that said 'I might need to do CPR' before realising that we were actually happy. Yes, on a chemo ward.
|YOU DO NOT WANT THIS IN YOUR LEG.|
Listening to loads of loud music also helped today go with a swing. David Bowie, The Smashing Pumpkins, Foo Fighters and not to forget a bit of Beyonce, Madonna and Rhianna - I am camp rocking this cancer into submission!
So the care packages of a digital radio, boxes of food and love and messages and good vibes; and some great pre-treatment reading (Crazy Sexy Cancer Tips is a fab book for any youthful woman dealing with this) have all made day one of chemo cycle two a pretty great one. We genuinely laughed and not just at the threat of a bad movie in my leg. Today we giggled loudly and more than I've done in a long while - and it wasn't hysteria, it was just a very funny, good day.