Chapter 5
The Chi bubble.
The dark side.
The days after the chemo are certainly getting harder. This is the darker side of my journey… My Chi bubble felt like it had burst this time round. My focus somehow had been shifted. Everything seemed different… I was tired yet I couldn’t sleep, I had energy yet I couldn’t use it, my head ached, smells that I loved suddenly annoyed me to the point that I would dry reach when I could smell them. Even the thought of them, Garlic and broccoli in particular. My insides where burning, I could feel the life being sucked from the inside out, my ginger wasn’t burning like a bitch anymore, my boob felt weird, I felt my tumors were growing not shrinking. I felt like I had failed. My Chi bubble had burst. At this point I pulled the “Get F@#ked” card. I didn’t want any more treatments, I just wanted to be left alone… All this in a space of about 4 days. I still wasn’t pushing the “why me” button, just pulling out the “get f@#ked” card… I wanted my moment, My moment with My gloom. Greg was with me the whole way giving me words of encouragement, hugs, food and of course his humour, crackin corny jokes trying to make me laugh. I couldn’t stand being negative anymore. I had to get my bubble back intact again. As soon as I’d taken the “Get F@#ked card” off the table my ginger started burning again… Who would have thought I would be pleased at this? My boob stopped feeling like it was going burst, I started sleeping better, and my head doesn’t ache as much. I still dry reach at smells and thoughts but I can live with that. I’m back, back on track, positive and ready.
The excitement.
The weeks are just flying by, Greg is excited about organizing a trip to Perth to see the Redbull Air Race again. We missed out on getting the accommodation on the South Bank like we had last time because I was non committal as Dr. Geoff was talking about more treatments and I didn’t want to be travelling to Perth on the wrong week. I couldn’t think of anything worse than sitting in a stinky plane for hours. But all is not lost, we have a great room right near the race airfield, 2 nights in “Freo”, and 2 nights overlooking the ocean at Cottesloe so we can watch the sunsets. Just like when I watched them in Greece only this time with the man I love. We on the East coast are not used to seeing the sun set over the ocean, this I’m looking forward to! Greg has left nothing to chance... This will be my last holiday with my boob, so the girls are comin’ out to play!
This week saw my little car being written off. Not my fault of cause… As if it would be! It is funny though how people react to a woman in a scarf! I rang the police to report what had just happened and the woman on the other end asked if anyone was hurt. I had said no but I must have sounded a little vague. I then explained it was only a week after chemo and I can be a little dittsy, oh ok… they aren’t calling me 10 second Lou for nothing. Before I knew it there was an ambulance screaming around the corner followed by a fire truck and 3 tow trucks but no police. I was quietly disappointed. I wanted to blow in the bag… I wanted the kid that hit me to blow in the bag! Not that he or I had been drinking but I just wanted him to experience this since he felt the need to inconvenience me by wrecking my car. I had things to do that night! Greg was coming home and I had stuff to do… The ambos where not interested in the young fella, after all they were bored and they thought they had a live one here, something to do, someone to transport to hospital. Ahhh but they were wrong, I had other ideas! They kept insisting they take me to hospital… Finally I got through to them that I was not going anywhere. I was not going to be their source of entertainment. That night I got to ride in a big tow truck. I felt like I needed a ladder to get into the thing. Inside there was a DVD player, huge big armrests and a big big fat man (who felt the need to tell me his life story) driving. I only just beat Greg home and Greg being Greg, immediately started looking on the internet for cars. I needed a car to get to work before the end of the week as Greg will be away working from next Monday. We only had a week to find one and we both had differing opinions on what sort of car I needed. He thought practical, safe, and reliable. You know, the “that will do” car, the “no personality” car, the “no way no hope in hell I’ll drive that” car. I on the other hand wanted my dream car… I was trying to justify selling the ol’ Paseo to get this car but I really couldn’t do it. Not only did the numbers not add up but this car mechanically was very sound it was just the appearance I didn’t like, sadly she just didn’t fit the image I wanted. I had never gotten over selling my beloved Celica Convertible, the very car Greg thought was a “shitbox”. I loved her, I and all who rode in her had some very good times. All this was about to change. I dearly wanted an MX5 or a Spider or a 2 seater converable, any convertible. As usuall Greg’s practicality won out. Really, a 4 seater is what I needed. We still have kids that I am still being taxi to, not to mention a grandson that needs to be properly restrained (Gees when did I get so responsible?). In the end I charged Greg with the sole responsibility of choosing a car, I said I trusted his judgement… I was scared… I had given him all the criteria and now it was up to him to perform. After teasing me with MX5’s, Astra convertibles and MR2’s I had had enough. After all it was Monday and still no car! (he’s had 2 days!!!). Greg had got some groceries before he had to pick me up from work. He disappeared to put the goodies in the car then came back. What he was really doing was taking the top of my Astra Convertible! My car, my 4 seater convertible, my machine that is fit for me, my personality, my image. I was so excited. Greg had done it again! I drove that car for seems hours that night, so much so my left arm and left leg were getting sore from changing gears and pushing the clutch in. How soft had I gotten? I still look at “Astrid” in awe and can’t believe she is mine. She is beautiful. She is the very model that I had ordered back in 2002, but cancelled coz I found my Celica. She is maroon with black leather interior, fully optioned… Im getting excited just writing this. This week saw a lot of fun stuff amongst the bad. I even got a blackberry! I am struggling to navigate that one as yet (unlike Astrid). Greg even got his tattoo. He had one designed, a pacman of cause, with a machine gun standing over a dead evil blob. He no longer has virginal skin and the tat looks fabulous! The first of many I wonder?
The smile.
The day had come, the day I was not looking forward to. The day of my appointment was with Professor Ian, the butcher…sorry, surgeon. He is still stoney faced and hard pressed to show any emotion at all. He is obviously a thinker. You can see his brain ticking over while he talks. He came straight to the point, no idol chit chat for him. He asked when my last chemo sesh was and said he wanted to operate mid April. Im almost sure he has never been told no before. I wanted to go to Perth, I wanted to have a “cancer free” holiday. After all it was just 1 week. He ummed are ahhed then said ok, the 21st. The day after we get back. Ironicaly It’s the very day we were to have flown out for our most amazing trip yet. He still has to take it all and the lymph nodes, and I asked again about a reconstruction. He remembered I asked him before and said the answer is still no. I felt like a little school girl that’s just been sent to the principals office. I may not have gotten the answer I wanted, but I did get a smile. He smiled a few times actually, by George I think I have cracked the old Professor.
Today brings the last day I will ever have to endure these two toxic chemicals. Even though I know there are others to come, many others in fact, it brings a smile to my face. As it turns out my white cells are low again and so are my nuetraphils are extremely low. They are so low that the only way they can give me my cocktail of drugs is to add another… This one is by injection… An injection in my fat bits (I have lots) the following day. This is to be done at home and so Greg will have to do it. This has sent a wave of terror through my every being. It’s not that I don’t have faith in him coz he is great at everything ……but this is medical business… needle business… Where is Lee when I need him? We were given another goodie bag only this time it also contained the preloaded syringe. We watched a video of the how’s, where’s, and why fors. I can only trust Greg paid more attention then me. Saturday came and so did that needle. I sooked like a big girl. I was like a big kid. A big sooky kid. When I look back at it now, how embarissing, I guess it wasn’t that bad, I keep telling myself that, It was just all in my mind, but its my mind, my fear. I would rather be put in a pit of snakes then have a needle. This needle through everything off balance. My taste was still here 2 days after chemo. This was unheard of. My eyes leaked with something that took the colour out of a tissue. I ached. But I also knew that this was going to give me energy, bring me back to where I wanted to be. So again, I sucking it up.