So, the last time I posted, I’d just been given the news
that I was clear of the bastard cancer and was in remission. Huge news.
Massive. So I went out and got
well and truly inebriated – getting out of the pub and home was fun that night. Being drunk doesn’t work well with crutches
and no natural balance!
Anyhoo, given what the cancer had done I was clearly still
left with the whole walking challenge. Not
ideal. I was making fantastic progress
given my initial prognosis, but it was still too slow for me. I kept expecting too much and then being
disappointed and frustrated with the reality.
Also, the unrelenting ‘positivity’ I was maintaining was
wearing. Exhausting even. Every now and
then I wanted to rant, shout and cry. I've
found that facebook helps me meet and suppress that need.
There’s nothing like a drunken rant on arsebook to remind you the
morning after that although you may not be well, you can still make yourself look
like a total twat with minimal effort. Particular thanks go to Gary Francis and
the Sneddons for reminding me of that. ;-)
Salutary lesson, duly noted, but one which I’m sure I’ll completely ignore
next time I overdo it on the sauvignon blanc or rioja.
What’s that? A funny story to keep the readers hooked you
say? Ok, I can do that. Going to the
local pub last week for Sunday lunch, Kevin and I were stopped in our tracks by
an elderly lady. I bloody love the
elderly – they have no respect for privacy or personal space… “What’s happened to you? Knee replacement?”
she shouted from about 100 yards away. “No”
I said more quietly. “What then?” she
shouted. Right then you nosey old bag, I
thought, so I let her have the whole horrible story. “Well” she said. “Aren’t you a lucky girl!” “Am I?” I
said. “Yes”,she said. “Two years ago, my son’s wife was at work –
very bright and successful, just like you (little bit of preening), when she suddenly
felt a bit odd and couldn’t feel her fingers.
She was rushed into hospital, two weeks later…..huge pause….DEAD!!!!” “Really?” I said. “Well that’s a hugely helpful story, thank
you for that”. WTF??
But actually, in a funny way, the old dear was right. Although I have permanent damage and will
never again do a jig or walk a marathon, (was I ever going to do that anyway?) I am still
here. If the cancer hadn’t done its
worst on my spine, we’d never have known it was there, and I definitely
wouldn’t be around now to regale you with funny tales. Scary stuff when you
think of it like that.
And on that bombshell, goodbye for now.
A. xxx
