Thursday 22 January 2009

Them Bells, them Bells, them dry Bells....

Everything's gone a bit mad!  I hardly know where to start, and yet every day I feel a little more tired - and it isn't as though I'm like er... doing loads either, but keep drifting off - that's got to be a bad sign, hasn't it!?  ha ha!

Speaking of drifting off, it's now 20 past 11, and this is the first chance ~I've had to come back to this post!!!! And only because the fabulous Nee Nee is here, making me porridge... tis official - I am like proper poorly now - have hardly eaten all day, am n0w 7st 10lbs too, but still getting to the loo on my own, and now thinking of getting to the riding school again somehow, at the weekend?  As for riding, it depends on, whether or not I can get the strength back.

For anyone reading this who may have just been diagnosed with multiple tumours and has, heaven forbid,  started having  'symptoms'  I reckon this here is a bit of a danger stage:  I still don't understand why, and I'm not questioning it, but when everybody starts popping in to see you with such wonderful presents/cards/flowers/fruit and even the GP has you scheduled in for private weekly home visits, not to mention District nurses twice a day it makes your head almost start excepting a rather immediate demise.

So folks, this is where I am now having to learn to strike a balance between mentally fighting back and physically fighting back whilst at the same time realising I can't e mail everybody back at the moment.   I  just haven't got the strength to do something as simple as digesting food AND email someone!!!   So please don't be offended if I don't always get back to you in these few coming days - I'm not planning on going anywhere, just on spending a few days getting well enough to do all replies the following week!

Actually this blog will be the one thing that keeps me going I think and I want it to be useful for anyone else in this position - with multiple tumours, whether they die or not, to show that, even though it sometimes feels as though your funeral is being planned around you,  ("WHERE WOULD YOU LIKE TO DIE?!") You need to keep wanting to live, and have a plan to keep you going (my dad, "Now that you're not eating anything let's start back on the nutritional war").

My Plan:

1. Keep breathing.

2. And eating - doing proper hardcore cancer fighting, for which I am even prepared to ingest spirulina and wheat-grass juice!!!  Joder!

3.  Doing EFT Tapping to help body to retain nutrients.

4. Positive thinking - and this is why I so want to talk about this here and now, because I am not in pain, feel loved and useful, have no regrets - other than got to finish my writing, etc., so it almost becomes like, "ok, we're ready now!" and the medics. when I ask them, okay, how long, like exactly (you know me, I want it down to the last millisecond), they all ask me, how long is a piece of string!!!

5. Need to plan a trip out of the house (and already, in a week or less, this is starting to look more and more difficult/challenging.

6. Need to spend time with family that doesn't feel like a death bed scenario from Dickens' or somewhere!

7.  Close thine ears to any tollings of any bells!!!

11 comments:

Unknown said...

Hope the riding school trip happens as that always seems to feed your soul.

What about a family game? One that makes you laugh and keeps you together and thinking about other things. Maybe Ex Libris or Articulate.....

Keep those positive thoughts.

love,
lizx

Jenny Beattie said...

I am certainly not expecting an email. I am grateful to you for still blogging, my sweet.

And, I'm crossing my fingers for you to feel up to visiting the horses.

Much love, JJx

Caroline said...

I hope you all make it out together. Horses have magic powers.
Take care honey and know that I'm thinking about you all, lots x

Zinnia Cyclamen said...

Ding, dong... oops, sorry! Yep, focus on the digesting bit; emails can wait. So good that you are not in pain. Sending love and hugs.

Chris Stovell said...

Hello deart heart, what a star you're being. We should be making you laugh but you keep making us laugh - as I did at the Dickensian beside scene idea. Hopefully you will be able to get out for a breath of fresh (very fresh up here) air. When my dad was very frail and in a wheelchair we took him to Worthing to see the sea in a storm and it did him so much good he got up and walked along the prom. You could see people's jaws drop - it's been known ever since as the Miracle of Worthing!

rog said...

I hear the bells have been nicked & weighed in for scrap. As for the string, I find it always gets in an awful tangle...it's almost as though the end doesn't want to be found.
You're an inspiration, lass. x

Leigh Forbes said...

Oh, be lured and comforted by the smell of saddle soap and horse. And the lovely thing about horses, is that they don't care if you take a nap in the saddle.
x

Anonymous said...

I want to say something, but am lost for words that don't sound trite - all I can say is that I am thinking of you and your bravery every day.

Deborah Carr (Debs) said...

Ooh I love the smell of saddle soap too.

Keep up those positive thoughts. x

Fiona Mackenzie. Writer said...

Wheat grass is so revolting that it must do you good.

I am hoping that you can go and stroke the horses and keep blogging and keep postive.

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