Wednesday, 30 January 2013

In the wars

Cyril after the fray


Cyril (the three-legged monster cat) is being tormented by a bully.  My money is on the culprit being Big Bad Brown Fluffy Cat (BBBFC), the local thug.  I know Cyril doesn’t look too distressed in this photo, fast asleep propped up on velvet cushions, but look at the gash on his nose.  I’m thinking of getting a second cat to act as minder, maybe one like this:

Picture from here
Our lack of heating and hot water saga continued, with the brand new boiler not working when it was finally fitted.  I'll spare you the long tedious story but suffice it so say that all is now sorted and warmth reigns at Discombobulated Towers.  Which is probably why the other half and I have come down with the lurgy and are coughing, spluttering, sneezing and generally being pathetic.  I'm sitting in bed in a lemsip haze.  I'm one of those weird people who love lemsip so things could be a lot worse.

Before being struck down I'd been as busy as anything with a panto, a party, the cinema and meditation class to name just a few of the highlights of my exciting life.  I can really recommend this early retirement lark.

I've also been to see the breast surgeon and it's all change on the treatment front.  As the crap in my lungs doesn't  seem to be growing at the moment (a relief after the scare from the last but one CT scan), the oncologist and surgeon put their heads together and decided to go ahead with surgery.  So I'm booked in for a mastectomy and full node clearance at the end of February.  Being a wonderfully deep and complex person, this feels me with horror and relief in equal measure.  At the moment I feel pretty calm about it all, but then it is a month away.  I reserve the right to go into meltdown as the operation day approaches.

Meanwhile my attacking-this-crappy-disease-on-all-fronts continues.  So as well as Herceptin,  Tamoxifen and shortly surgery, I'm meditating, visualising, reiking and experimenting with clean living.  The clean living thing went a bit haywire at the panto when I sat and scoffed my own body weight in popcorn and jelly babies, but I'm viewing that as a blip.  In fact my attitude to it all can be summed up as below (image nicked from a friend's FaceBook page, ta C).


4 comments:

  1. Maybe we should arrange for Cyril's cousins to come over .

    'The Mogsters':
    Cookie the Crusher, Tumpy the terminator, Tuppence the Tormentor, and Sheridon the Shredder. That will sort out BBBFC

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    1. Oh yes, a pussy posse is a great idea!

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    2. I can't be held responsible for your mucky minds.

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