Pick 'n' mix

I've been a busy little beaver lately, so here are various bits and bobs I've been up to.  Do try to stay awake.

At the end of August I turned 54.  Yay me. I had a lovely birthday with a slightly  rabbity theme.  First of all there is bunny - pictured as the blog's header.  Bunny has been with me since I was three.  He is very tatty, a bit smelly and loved to distraction (indeed disintegration might be more accurate).  In the last couple of weeks bunny has been joined by:

The wooden bunny I got from the local  flower show

 

A bunny night light from a pal

And, from my sis, a hare from France who lives in the garden

These are all lovely.  Not so lovely is my hair (not hare - see what I did there).  This is me just a few days ago (with a slumped other-half) experiencing hysteria in Plymouth (more on that in a mo)
 

But this is me now

Yep, I'm a baldy bonce once more.  The swamp juice I'm on at the mo, Eribulin, causes hair loss in about 50% of patients.  I was hoping that I'd get away with it but over the weekend I started leaving a trail of peroxide tufts wherever I went, so I bit the bullet.  Thankfully one of Nev's sisters is a dab hand with clippers and she gave me a good shearing (just like she did three years ago).  I plan to spend the money I would have spent on bleach and hair cuts on scarves and hats instead.  A spending spree is a silver lining of a sort I suppose.  Oh well.


Plymouth.  The other half's uncle died recently.  Obviously this is very sad but he was well into his eighties, had a full life and was much loved.  Eighteen members of the other-half's family made the journey from the Midlands to the south west to pay their respects at his funeral.  We all stayed in the same hotel.  If I tell you that their was much running about in between bedrooms, scoffing of biscuits and general carrying on, including a telling off from a member of the hotel staff, I'm sure you'll get the picture.  The general consensus was that Nev's uncle would have totally approved of all the shenanigans.

We had a stroll around Plymouth 

where I was particularly impressed by a big fish

And yes, you are not mistaken, we had blue skies!

No sooner had we returned from Plymouth then we set off for a weekend in Yorkshire, visiting my aunt and cousins and, once again, seeing the sights.  We were treated like royalty and, if I had my way, I'd move in with my cousin tomorrow to be pampered ridiculously including being fed cake and wine at regular intervals.  And look, she has cats.  The incredibly handsome Jack

and Roger who has the life of riley but here is doing his best to look like he has a tough time of it with this paw to his fevered brow

While we were in Yorkshire we drove around the beautiful dales, taking in the Ribblehead Viaduct

 Grassington

Skipton Castle

East Riddlesden Hall
Where we got a special tour (courtesy of one of my cousins who's a guide there.  It's not what you know, it's who you know)

And before I bore you to tears with all my showing off about having been here, there and everywhere, here are some pictures of the Flower Pot Festival (yes you read that correctly) which was taking place in Settle 

And to bring things to a tidy end, let's end on a rabbity note with a flower pot bunny

I'm hopping off now.  See you later.

Going loco

The other day I went out to buy a water filter jug but came home with this instead

Not the world's best picture I'm afraid but who wouldn't want a tin 1950s toy train (plus signal!) on their bathroom skirting board?  The other-half is threatening to paint scenery on the wall behind the train, but I quite fancy the real 3D McCoy that I saw recently in an the window of an old style model shop in York

It would certainly make trips to the loo a bit more interesting.

So yes, I've been to York for a few days.  It has two of my most favourite things - history and shopping.  I had a great time, ate too much, slipped off the Lent no-booze waggon, spent too much money (new red boots and a picture!), went sight-seeing and walked my legs off.  

The glory that is York

I'm absolutely knackered now but it was worth it.  Did I mention new red boots and a picture?

Before we went to York I tried to kill sis no 1.  We went to see the snowdrops I talked about last time.  It was as lovely as usual although a bit on the chilly side

Then we headed off to a pub for Sunday lunch.  We decided to go via the Stiperstones (if you've the misfortune to live somewhere other than Shropshire and have no idea what the Stiperstones is, I'm talking about a big hill).  As we drove up and up the weather got colder and colder and snowier and snowier

until we were almost in a white-out

Sis no 1, not a lover of all things wintry, was not impressed.  Anyway, we made it down the other side safe and sound, took refuge in the pub and stuffed ourselves full of grub before driving home, taking a less dramatic route.  I think sis no 1 has just about forgiven me.  Yhe other-half, on the other hand, enjoyed his Ice Road Truckers moment.

Have you notice I've been tinkering with the blog header again?  I'm not sure I like it but a change is as good as a rest.  And in that spirit I decided to experience some spring madness myself and go blonde

I'm not sure about this either as it's a bit too Bet Lynch for my liking

Picture from here

See what I mean. 

At my most recent hospital appointment I asked the oncologist what chemo options were left for me when the current regime (capecitabine and lapatinib) fails.  I was relieved that there are still two or three options to try but the reality is that nearly all of them would see me lose my hair again.  So I decided to have a bleach blitz while I had the chance.  So, no regrets there.  But no promises that the next post won't see me back as mousy brown and/or with another change in blog header.

While I'm on about all things cancery, my latest blog post for Vita (an online breast cancer charity magazine) can be read here, this month's not particularly happy subject is times when medical staff aren't all they could be, something most have us have experienced at times.  Big sigh.

Gadding again

I’ve been gadding about all over the countryside again.  That’s my excuse for not posting recently. 

Apologies for anyone left in the lurch about my latest CT scan results (although I did plaster it all over Facebook).  I've seen the oncologist and there was no change in the cancer, in other words I'm classed as stable (for now) and I can carry on with my current treatment.  This made me very happy.  I would have been even happier if the cancer had shrunk but that’s just me being greedy.

I recently posted a blog entry for Vita, Breast Cancer Care’s on-line magazine, you can read it here.  However, it’s mostly just me whinging on about waiting for scan results which, if you’ve read this blog for any length of time, you will have already endured several times.  So, here’s a get-out-of-jail-free card, you are excused reading the Vita blog.  I’m good to you, I really am.

Anyway, since getting my latest test results I’ve been here, there and everywhere. Well, Birmingham, Yorkshire and Cornwall to be precise.

I went to Birmingham to meet up for lunch with several other women with secondary breast cancer.  It was great to put faces to names (we knew each other from an on-line group) and chat about this, that and the other – and not solely cancer.  While I wouldn’t wish this sodding disease on anyone it’s a blessed relief to talk to other people who know exactly what this whole stage IV cancer malarkey is like.

After that I went up to Yorkshire and what a lovely county it is.

Aysgarth Falls (bloomin' lovely)

First of all we went to the north bit of Yorkshire for a very happy, joyous wedding.  I can safely say this was the only wedding ceremony I've attended where the vicar (a Benny Hill look-a-like) threatened to kill the bride for laughing.  Then on to the west of the county to see my aunty and cousins.  It was a fantastic visit and I hope to go back  again soon to inflict myself on my long-suffering relatives some more.

Then there was just time to squeeze in some hospital appointments (physio and chemo) before dashing off again, this time to Cornwall, where the sun shone and I did lots of Cornwally things which included visiting lovely villages like this one,

I think this was Ruan Minor or maybe Cadgwith

buying a picture at St Ives, eating a pasty, drinking cider and, oh bliss, a cream soda float,

Food of the Gods

getting serious, serious house envy

want one, want one, want one!

and making childish jokes about gardens.

The photo above was taken in the stunning gardens at Trebah.  There's a number of huge plants called gunnera there.  You could walk though a tunnel of them.  This walkway was named 'gunnera passage' which really does sound like some kind of embarrassing disease that you'd put off going to the doctor about until the itching really was unbearable.

I was in Cornwall with the other-half, two of his sisters and their husbands.  I'm afraid they led me astray and drink was taken.  I had a brilliant time, the sort even having just one toilet between six adults can't spoil (Bear Grylls has got nothing on me).  I'm not sure whether the highlight of the stay was the other-half slumping over the stable door to our cottage in an effort to make passers-by think he was dead or the time when he, half-cut, decided to drop his trousers to show off his knees - which were stained a patchy rust-brown by his cack-handed and ill-advised use of my self-tan lotion.  Happy days.

Anyway, I'm now back home surrounded by sisters (all three of them are in Shropshire at the mo) and enjoying the sunshine.  Don't worry I'm sure I'll revert to my normal moaning for the next post.  Later taters.

Stomach in knots

The knot garden at Sudeley Castle (review: grounds lovely, museum um a bit of on the scatty and smelly side)

Oh my giddy aunt, it's that time again.  I've had a CT scan and am now in a state of scaniexty, waiting to see the oncologist next week for the results.  This is pretty much the lot of someone with secondary breast cancer - scan, treat, repeat.  (I nicked that phrase from the excellent Metavivor website just in case you thought I suddenly come over all sharp and snappy.  Don't worry, no danger of that happening anytime soon).  Anyway, as I said, it's scan, treat, repeat that is, of course, until the 'treat' options run out.  I've written before about the horribleness of waiting for results, here, for example.  However, I've found someone who sums it up a million times better than I ever could.  If you want to see what I'm talking about have a look at this short film from the brilliant Katherine O'Brien, author of the I hate breast cancer blog.

While I'm in my default mode of moan, moan, moan.  Jenni Bloody Murray.  Yes, again.  If you don't know what I'm talking about this should explain it or have a look at my latest post for Vita (the online breast cancer charity magazine for a more restrained version).  Amazingly, given her views, Jenni Bloody Murray is listed as a 'celebrity supporter' by a breast cancer charity called Breast Cancer Campaign.  Click here for the evidence.  I contacted the charity to ask why she still appears on their website after she'd expressed sentiments which, I think, are pretty offensive to anyone with secondary breast cancer.  I got a predictable 'we-don't-agree-with-her-but-she's-entitled-to-her-own-opinion' response.  So what now?  Do I 'let it go' and move on or stand my ground and argue the toss (probably to no avail).  At the moment I'm pursuing a third option, which is to do absolutely nothing other than seethe inwardly in a self-destructive and unhealthy fashion; a course of action that I feel is much underrated and one I'm very good at.  

And, lest after all this whinging, anyone feels the urge to counsel me to 'be positive' may I please draw your attention to this post from the Telling Knots blog which says it all.  I should point out that I'm lucky enough not to be surrounded by the type of people who come out with the positivity stuff and have had had very few encounters where I've been admonished for not being a little ray of sunshine.  So no-one reading this who knows me need feel guilty (or angry)!

It's not all scanixety and seething here at Discombobulated Towers though.  My broken wrist is on the mend and  I've been to the Cotswolds on a sunny springtime day:

While in the Cotswolds I bought a guidebook which contained a typo that gave me hours of amusement.  See below. 

Look, I've never claimed to be sophisticated

Finally, in an effort to cheer myself up this morning, I went internet shopping and ordered a pair of shiny bright yellow sandals.  So place your bets as to what gets me first - cancer or the fashion police.