From ballsy to bitter

So much time...so little to do. I have worked assiduously (w.o.t.w) through my 'tasks' and can report the following highlights from a busy week:


1) 2 more mice are goneburgered - thanks to the new plastic traps and a personal visit from the aforementioned Arkwright to provide after sales service and practical advice. I don't want everyone in Sumner to expect the same sort of attentive service but it was certainly appreciated. I am blessed to live in a village on the edge of a city. Thanks CM.


2) Mum, J, has returned from her home in Auckland with her suitcase full of retail therapy.

J: "I love this new coat Sachi, but I'm not sure about the colour. What sort of scarf do you think I could wear with it so I look better?"

S: "A balaclava"

Sometimes I surprise even myself with moments of comic brilliance but I share this for two reasons. The first is to introduce you to my Mum who is amazing, and looks stunning. No-one really understands the extent of a mother's love for her child until that love gets challenged to act. And act she has. Mum has taken short term unpaid leave from her work to be available for me. This takes special talent. I am an awful patient. I like to do everything for myself except for all the menial daily tasks that I am capable of doing, but which, just don't seem that important anymore. 'You do the dishes eh Mum?' My humour is blacker than ever and even Mum flinches from time to time.

J: "Are all those tablets you're taking helping ?"

S: "Well, my boob didn't grow back overnight if that's what you mean."

Mum also has the unfortunate job of dealing with P, who loves spending time with Mum but never remembers this. When we drove out to pick Mum up, P said "hello, Nana, when are you going back?" And yesterday during our 'what good ideas did you have today?' talk, P chipped in immediately with "my really good idea is that Nana goes home now". Tell us what you're really thinking sweetheart.


The second reason is to highlight that while I don't feel like I've changed much, I'm conscious that to everyone else I have. M, at work, pats my arm all the time. Like I'm elderly, or mentally impaired. Enough already! Whenever I say something ballsy, people look at me as though I'm bitter. Funny, ha, ha, balaclava, ha ha, isn't as funny because I'm not cute anymore ...I'm a project.



3) Retail therapy rocks. Naturally in order to complete my 'to-do' list I had to buy a few items. Briscoes, The Warehouse, Borders, Kimberleys have all benefited from my rush of activity. It's a bit like nesting. I firmly believe that if, when I first get home from chemo, the pantry is sorted, with everything in glass jars with labels, all will be well. Jacinda worked assiduously :) on Saturday night to revolutionize my pantry. My meagre contribution was to take apart all my old herb and spice packets and fill the brand new containers with lots of lovely smelling herbs, that now all smell the same to me. To this end, I need a volunteer. Anyone who can distinguish between sweet basil, oregano, thyme, rosemary, coriander, cumin and what Jac thinks might be nutmeg is welcome at La Maison D'Moi anytime.



4) My dear friends, F & G, have been supplying delicious meals full of goodness and I have taken healthy eating to new heights. Veges, fruit, whole grains, donated fish of every kind imaginable - almost no sugar, very little dairy and virtually no red meat. Of course, I'm now sick. My body has gone into some kind of anti-toxic toxic shock. Perhaps I hit the good stuff way too hard. I've got laryngitis that I've been told can only be fixed if I don't speak. C is in a state of Nirvana.

It's important that I can speak on Friday so that my oncologist can be confident that I'm ready to boff my first cocktail (fabulous expression stolen from W, my friendly village dentist) as soon as possible. I've been told that I'll be having 3 x 3 weekly cycles of Taxane, 3 x 3 weekly cycles of FEC (find every cancer), weekly Herceptin for 9 weeks and then 3 weekly after that for 12 months. I'll get a port inserted in my chest - another wee day surgery to squeeze in - for ease of drugging, and any decision on radiotherapy will be made after I've got through the chemo.

6) WOW. Watch out world. Today I tried on my first set of wigs. I've always been blessed with beauty as you know, but with a wig of luscious, fake but perfectly styled, holds it shape all day hair I am nothing short of a knock out. I asked if they had pantyhose with week-old stubble I could try. I think it's important to look as much like my old self as possible and seeing as there's only ever one day every six weeks that my legs are smooth (who has time for grooming?) I want to wear hairy tights along with a wig. Minifies didn't have tights quite like that but they did offer to pull apart their werewolf costume set so I could have stick on underarm patches. The tattooed child that served me is my new best friend. I was not brave enough to mention Merkins.

Tomorrow is 'Meeting your new oncology team' day and I'll know a lot more then about what's ahead - and when I have finished working assiduously on the rest of my pre-chemo tasks I'll let you know too.