The scan of my head revealed nothing. Oh shut up. I do have a brain in there but, hurrah, there was no sign of cancer. My bones although showing a couple of iffy bits on my ribs (which have been there for at least two years) are OK, in fact the iffy bits have improved so the oncologist still doesn't reckon it's cancer. My liver (cancer detected there last year) has improved and my lungs (which have had cancer ever since I was first diagnosed just over three years ago) are stable. The onc reckons my dizziness is due to low blood pressure and my back ache to old age. Never have I been so happy to have someone tell me I'm an old crock.
This means I carry on with my current chemo, which although causing me fatigue and sometimes an exciting dash in the direction of the bathroom, hasn't caused hair loss or major sickness.
As I was very concerned about the outcome of the latest scans I haven't been planning ahead massively, but that's now changed and already today I've been out and bought some summer clothes and, now I know I'm not going to lose my hair in the near future, have booked a haircut. My thoughts are now turning towards summer holidays. Watch out world, I'm on the rampage.
In order to distract me from chewing my non-existent finger nails, the other-half, sis no 3 and I headed out to Cheshire on the day before I got my results to visit Bluebell Cottage Gardens and Nursery. It was glorious, look
However it's not all joy and bluebells at Discombobulated Towers I'm afraid. On Wednesday evening Cyril (the three-legged monster cat) caught his first bird. Thankfully I don't have any pictures as Cyril took his prey next door to give it a good munch there. He made a quick exit from our garden due to the other-half yelling 'drop it' at him as if he was some kind of obedient dog. So, I have raised a bully and a murderer. Where did I go wrong?
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