Stabby

Which one is best?  Helpful clue: I made the brown one

Despite the indisputable evidence that I'm rubbish at all forms of craft (remember the dress that didn't fit and my foray into crochet?), I recklessly bought a felting kit from a lovely shop in Bishops Castle.  The kit sat ignored for months and months in the land that time forgot, otherwise known as the cupboard under the stairs.  Then motivation arrived, in the scary shape of sis no 3, and hey presto I give you two felted cats.  I didn't have a clue what felting involved before I started.  The kit basically contained wool and some scarily sharp needles with which to repeatedly stab the yarn.  It was unreassuring to say the least to find that the kit also included a plaster (or band aid for any American readers) for any needle related mishaps.  Thankfully I didn't need the plaster but then I was already feeling pretty stabby due to an eye test a few days earlier.

During a routine examination the optometrist spotted that I have one pupil bigger than the other.  This is not a good sign.  In fact, according to my consultation with Dr Google it means instant death.  I informed my oncology team who gave me the once over and then sent me for urgent CT and MRI brain scans.  The most common places for breast cancer to spread are liver, lungs (got the t shirt for those two), bones and brain.  So it was a scary wait for results. Luckily for me the scans were clear.  I still have to see a ophthalmologist but I'm feeling pretty relieved for the time being at least.

I've had lots of CT scans but the MRI was a new experience.  It was nowhere near as claustrophobic as I feared but it was just as noisy as everyone says it is.  To mask the clanging and banging I was given headphones to wear during the scan.  But I wasn't impressed the music selection pumped into my ears.  Given that they were looking for a brain tumour I think the first song 'Crazy' was a bit of a poor choice, then as the machine rattled and whirred I had 'Good Vibrations' piped through.  Do you think they were taking the piss?  I tried to give the radiographer one of my hard stares (via the mirror contraption above my head in the machine) but he was unabashed.  Git.

If the whole pupil thing wasn't worrying enough I also developed another very frightening symptom.  I've had a couple of sudden attacks of not being able to breathe.  During the attacks I can't speak and make horrible gasping noises.  The second attack happened when I was out for Sunday dinner with the other-half and two of my sisters.  It's not a subtle attack and my poor family didn't know if I was choking on food, going to throw up or what was going on.  I staggered outside and after a few minutes my breathing gradually returned to normal.  Thankfully my GP is sure this is a harmless spasm of the larynx.  It hasn't happened since and I'm not putting my name down for it again.  I don't recommend the experience.

I think I love my GP as not only did he calm my fevered brow over the breathing thing he also completed the form I had from the government querying my right to receive state benefit.  I'm waiting for the official response from the powers-that-be but am hoping the GP's input will make them wave the white flag, the bastards.

On a happier (but no saner) note a few days ago the other-half and I got up at the crack of dawn on a frosty morning to go hare spotting.  We did see a couple leaping about but they were too far away for a photo.  But just to prove that I was out and about bright and early on a very cold morning:

Now here's hoping for warmer weather and a happy, peaceful Easter for everyone.

Avoidance tactics

Here are some things I should be doing:

• Finding out about what will happen when the Cancer Drugs Fund (CDF) comes to an end next month.  I know it will be bad news and I haven't got the heart to read it.  (The CDF allowed patients in England to access some cancer drugs which were not otherwise available.)
• Starting an online course I registered for about immunotherapy.  But it looks like it might require thought.  Besides, the dog ate my homework.
• Looking at the scary form I've received questioning my right to receive Employment and Support Allowance (a state benefit) and asking lots of questions about my ability to work.  I don't have the mental stamina necessary to complete the form let alone hold down a job.
• Completing the skirt I started making last year.  But I'm at the stage where I have to do things with interfacing and attempt a button hole.  Cue an attack of the vapours.  The pattern says 'only one hours sewing time'.  Ha ha bloody ha

The material is now even more 'vintage' than it was last summer when I bought it

 Anyway, here's what I've been doing instead of all the boring stuff above.

•  Getting out and about in the winter sunshine

•  Going on two, yes two, snowdrop walks.  Never let it be said I don't know how to live on the edge.  In case you're interested, or even if you aren't, one walk was the annual one in support of a local cancer charity, (many thanks to all the family members who turned out in support of this, once again you warmed my cockles) the other was at Rode Hall.

•  Going to Cambridge for the weekend.  It was very chilly and I walked my legs off

 

Trinity College (I think).  My brain had frozen by this point.

 

Punting?  In that temperature?  Silly sausages!

•  Stopping off at Ely Cathedral on the way home.  Truly my middle name is Culture (or possibly Louise, you guess).

•  Getting excited about finding a local shop (Whitchurch) bearing the family name

 

What can I tell you?  I'm easily pleased

•  Gazing soppily at a happy Cyril (the three legged monster cat).  Also taking him to the vet again after he got into yet another fight That's 53 quid on antibiotics thank you very much.

Bless his furry little chops

•  Purchasing (for reasons too complicated to explain) a Playmobil Elvis.  I'm pleased to say he was well received.

Now before you start tutting and shaking your heads about my avoiding all the things I should be doing, the reason is not, as you might have thought, cowardice, laziness or excruciating hangovers.  No, the truth is I have been traumatised and the shock has rendered me quite incapable of anything except the most frivolous activities.  One of my sisters discovered (I know not how) that our old family home is now used for this.  And to think I thought finding out I had incurable cancer was a shock.  What did I know!

Making hay

So it seems that Eribulin (my latest chemo) is something of a mixed bag.  It frequently gives me high temperatures in the days after infusion which means me having to make trips to hospital to make sure my white blood count is OK and that there are no infections about to run rampant in my system.  The chemo also seems to give me headaches and make me feel a bit blergh, but on the week I don't have to have swamp juice (two weeks on, one week off) I feel pretty good.  I've just had one of those good weeks and so I made hay while the sun shone.

I've had a trip to Shugborough, an historic house about an hour away from home 

It was OK, but to be honest I've been to better stately homes - the whole Patrick Lichfield thing was a bit of a pain (he used to live there and they make a big deal of it).  Much as I love an historic house, I'm not really into royalty and their relatives (to put it mildly).  Anyway don't let me put you off if you fancy a trip there.  One huge plus point ... it's got a cat monument, no home should be without one.

A couple of days later we ventured out again to another historic house, well a castle actually, Powis Castle.  It's only about a half hour drive from home and I just can't believe we hadn't visited before because it's absolutely stunning.  I loved it.  Bear in mind we are well into Autumn now and it was still beautifully colourful, look:

Stunning views

Borders to salivate over

 

And I do love a lumpy hedge (the other-half included for scale)

Not bad eh?

There was, sadly, a distinct lack of monuments to cats.  However they did have dragons, and that's the next best thing

Then, to round the week off, we went to the seaside (West Wales).  The weather was glorious and I walked my legs off

 And also succumbed to a seaside selfie

Ah well, back to the swamp juice next week and, no doubt, a lot less gadding about and a lot more moaning.  

I won't know if this chemo is working until the end of October (having a CT scan in the middle of the month).  I have my doubts to be honest, as I'm still coughing like mad and have to stop for breath if I encounter even a slight slope never mind a hill.  The worrying thing is that I seem to be running out of chemo options (although there are a couple to try yet).  I may not yet be in the last-chance saloon but I do feel I'm clunking up the steps to the bar door getting ready to order my two fingers of red-eye.  Still, it's hard to differentiate between what the disease is doing and the side-effects of chemo, so I'll just have to wait and see. 

I haven't entirely lost my optimism though.  I'm going to attempt sewing again.  After the last dressmaking disaster I'd say that makes me incredibly stoic!  I am going to attempt a skirt with a button hole, zip and darts, so stand by for swearing.  I will report back with details of my amazing prowess as a seamstress, in the meantime admire the lovely second-hand fabric before I destroy it begin work.

At least something is coming up roses

Talking of stoic, the other-half has just assembled our new bed.  This has been something of a trial with an oily salesman, late delivery, missing parts and general grumpiness.  However, it is now done and we can now sleep easy.

To end on a positive note, I will have something very exciting to announce in the next couple of days.  I know I've tormented you with this before but the day is nearly nigh.  Stay tuned.

Thwarted and sorted

This is what proper sewing type bloggers do, isn't it?  Put pictures of their latest creations on their blogs.  That is the only way in which I am in anyway similar to those bloggers.  Big sigh.  

Remember me saying I was attempting to make my first ever dress and doubting that I'd get further than this stage?

Well I did.  With bullying help and motivation from sis no 3, I tackled darts, battled with interfacing and did things with a zip I never thought possible.  I was pretty chuffed with myself and the finished item.  Then I tried it on.  It was too small to accommodate my enormous arse.  To add insult to injury there wasn't enough fabric in the seams to let it out.  There was wailing and gnashing of teeth, followed by some internet shopping to make up for the trauma.  I actually quite enjoyed the sewing process but I haven't quite got the heart to attempt another, much wider, dress just yet.

On a more successful note the other-half has decorated our sitting room.  The finished result is fine but there were moments of argh during the process, including finding some damp (which we thought we had, expensively, eradicated some time ago).  As you can see, Cyril (the three-legged monster cat) 'helped' when we were drying out the damp.

In health news the erratic side-effects of my current chemo, capecitabine, continue.  Some days I feel fine, others really tired and others unable to stray too far from the bathroom.  I whinge but, so far, the side-effects have been bearable and as long as the chemo continues to work I'm happy with the treatment.

I'm not so happy though with the chemo nurse who booked my next two dates for attending the Chemo Unit to collect my drugs (this happens every three weeks to fit in with the chemo cycles).  I, stupidly, just accepted the dates she offered without double checking.  I realised today that the nurse had mistakenly booked my appointments at four weekly intervals instead of three weekly.  To make matters worse I had used the exisiting dates to work out when to book a couple of holidays.  So now everthing has gone pear-shaped (much like me).  The next appointment has been rearranged to, just about, fit in with my plans and taking the drugs at the right time, but the appointment after that could cause problems.  The Chemo Unit assured me today that they'd sort it all out when I go in next week.  Here's hoping!

All this is very minor stuff though compared to what some are going through.  On the online forum, which is my life line, a number of women have died over the past couple of weeks.  Of course, this is going to happen on a forum for people with metatstatic cancer but it's tough.  One of the women who died recently, Jo, (at just 32 years of age) had an excellent blog which brings home the impact of this vile disease.

Reasons to be grumpy

Scuppered plans

Because of the delights of chemo side-effects my plans for a mega sewing day have been abandoned.  If I tell you that it is 10 steps to my bathroom from my bed and that, in recent days, I've really needed it to be 8 steps I think you'll get my drift.  Further lurid details available on request. Sis no 3 was going to come round and help me attack my dress-making project but that's a real no-go today.  Sigh.  I am hoping, at some stage, to get a bit further than this:

Thunderous Thursday

On Thursday I go to see my oncologist to get the results of my latest scans.  I am not at all confident that the current chemo is working so I'm pretty apprehensive about it, especially as the scans included bone and brain this time.  If chemo hadn't already destroyed my fingernails I'd be biting them to the quick.  I've written about the delights of scanxiety a million times before but, of course, the process doesn't get any easier so I'm going to continue whinging about it.  So there.

Cantankerous cats

Cyril, the three-legged monster cat is continuing his reign of terror in the neighbourhood.  As well as regularly attacking all the local mogs he comes home with his fair share of scratches.  I despair.  Added to all this is the added horror that is Snooky.  Snooky (a black and white cat with the added bonus of four legs) lives down the street.  He was rehoused there by sis no 1 in her capacity as a volunteer at the local cat rescue centre.  She has a lot to answer for as Snooky and Cyril have become arch enemies.  Snooky is just as rufty-tufty as Cyril and neither of them are prepared to admit defeat.  In fact we drove past Snooky the other day.  I actually should say drove round, as he was sitting in the middle of the road refusing to budge an inch.  That cat is a tough cookie.  If the current state of affairs persists, I think Cyril may take a contract out on him. 

Yeah, yeah OK it isn't all doom and gloom, on the plus side

Cantankerous cats go soft

Look what happened yesterday

The three-legged monster cat decided to get all smoochy and we had a major love-in.  I was honoured (and sleepy).

Out and about

I'd be a big fat fibber if I said I felt grotty every day so I've been out and about a bit including a trip back to Wollerton Old Hall.  Even though the gardens aren't at their best yet it's still lovely, look

 
And I leave you with a photo of the loveliest bloom in the garden

Ha, ha, ha.  I am very funny.

PS.  If you haven't had enough of me already my latest post for Vita (online breast cancer magazine) is available here

Hello

I am a sad enough specimen to check, from time to time, the number of people who've looked at this blog and whereabouts in the world they come from.  I'm chuffed but mystified to find that I've been getting a large number of readers from Russia, the Ukraine and Poland.  So the above is my attempt at saying hello to people from those countries.   Rather recklessly I got the translations by googling so if I've made any horrible, offensive mistakes, like Mr Brown in the film ' Paddington' then please accept my apologies.

Since my last post we've had heaps of sunshine in England and, mercifully, I've had several days of feeling well so I've been out and about including to the lovely Berrington Hall where I took these spring time pictures.

It was a beautiful day, especially if we gloss over the fact that the other-half did possibly the loudest belch ever burped in Britain right in the middle of a quiet tea-room.  Oh the shame.

Health wise I've no idea if the current chemo is still working or not.  I have days when I feel fairly grotty but I just don't know if that's due to medication side-effects or the cancer.  I had a bone scan last week as my ribs still give me the occasional twinge and my back has started joining in.  Next week I have a CT scan so, in the middle of May, I'll be seeing the oncologist to find out the latest.  I've been having the occasional dizzy spell.  This could again be a side-effect or possibly low-ish blood pressure but there is also the possibility of spread to the brain.  Metastatic breast cancer can spread anywhere but the most common sites are bones, lungs, liver and brain.  Obviously I'm really hoping I haven't collected the full set but the CT scan next week will also include my head (it's usually just chest and abdomen) so I'll have the answers fairly soon.  I will probably be an utter nightmare to be around come the middle May and the approach of results day - be warned!

In other news having just about recovered from my last foray into sewing (who can forget, even with therapy, the stunning pyjama bottoms I created) I am about to embark on trying to sew a dress.  The pattern describes it as simple but its got a zip and darts and requires something called 'stay stitching' (which I will google later) so wish me luck.  What with scary results and even scarier dress-making in the offing I predict some fraught times at Discombobulated Towers!

Ta dah!

And also wa-hey and any other self-congratulatory noises you can think of.  I have finished my pyjama bottoms.  No self-congratulations on the very poor photograph but I'm sure you get the idea.  Here's another crap photo just to make sure

The process was relatively painless (apart from standing on a pin with bare feet) so Coco Chanel had better watch out.  I'm not sure what will be next but keep your eyes peeled for more creations in the understated and elegant discombobulated style.

Not much in the way of health news.  I had a bone density scan recently but apparently it takes about nine light years for the results to come through.  However it's CT scan time again soon so stand by for the usual tetchy nervousness as I await the results.

In the meantime I've been enjoying the weather and earlier this week went on a jaunt to Leominster with Sisses 1 and 2 and Mr Sis 2 (otherwise known as The Sainted One, for putting up with Sis 2 for umpteen years).  We trawled the antique/secondhand shops and I indulged in my addiction for books, pictures and embroided bits and bobs.  If I acqure any more junk the house will burst.

Yesterday I went for an evening drive across the Long Mynd with the other-half.  The heather was out and all was lovely.  We admired the views

and watched the sunset

athen, predictably enough, we headed for the pub.  Night night.

Fancy pants

Hold on to your hats.  I have bought a sewing machine!  As if my adventures in knitting weren’t exciting enough I have decided to diversify. 

I’m starting out with something simple; pyjama bottoms - no button holes, no zips and, hopefully, no frayed temper.  Behold the material I’ve bought.   

Sunglasses on

My plan is that I’ll be able to read in bed solely by the light of my incredibly bright night attire – no lights needed. 

You may think this latest step into the world of make do and mend is foolish on my part, seeing as I haven’t really progressed beyond scarves in the knitting department.  However, I am inspired.  Of late I’ve been perusing (and enjoying) the sort of arty-crafty blogs where the writers skip around their beautiful gardens with a paint brush in one hand, embroidery threads in the other while home-schooling floral pinafore clad daughters with names like Marigold, Petunia and Cystitis (I may have made that last one up). 

While I can hardly compete with those blogs in the angelic offspring stakes I can offer a rosy-tinted shot of Cyril, the three-legged monster cat, in my beautiful garden

Butter wouldn't melt

You'd never know from this photo that Cyril has been to the vet for an infection picked up while fighting again.  He's right as rain now though (after a course of anti-biotics which were next to impossible to get him to swallow).

Anyway, my beautiful garden.  Look how things have come on in the horticultural department:

June 2013

March 2014 (complete with pensive other-half)

April 2014

June 2014

July 2014

Please be especially impressed by the 'memory path' which is filled with odds and ends from beach-combing and the like.

I know all this is shameless bragging but really it's nothing to do with me, it's all the work of the other-half.  Sometimes he has his uses.  

It was a shame then, that on the evening we decided to invite the other-half's family, Clan Wiggins, over it rained buckets.  However, we weren't going to let a little thing like rain put us off and so the other-half erected a make-shift tarpaulin-covered seating area - so the family were forced to sit outside and admire his handiwork.  

The other-half comes from a huge family.  This can make entertaining difficult as my idea of cooking is putting together a cheese and pickle sandwich and I can get even that wrong.  Never, on the night Clan Wiggins came over, have so many boxes of supermarket pre-cooked snacks been opened.  Truly I am the hostess with the mostest.  Some of the family stayed over and although I had stocked up with the ingredients for a cooked breakfast I didn't have to raise a finger as the other-half's sisters rode to the rescue.  Hurrah for the breakfast pixies and many, many thanks.  Without them I'd have been sobbing under the kitchen table having a panic attack.

Lest you think all my adventures have been home-based, I've been out and about.  I've been back to Ludlow and bought yet another hand-bound notebook and gone over the border into Wales to see the the UK's tallest single drop waterfall, Pistyll Rhaeadr. 

see bloke in red on bottom right for an idea of scale

It was magical, as was the surrounding countryside

 

If goblins don't live under this tree then my name's not Rumplestiltskin

 We stopped for a cuppa at a nearby (and very lovely) cafe and shared a cake with one of the locals

 We then went on to Lake Vyrnwy and had lunch in a very unlovely cafe.  We should've guessed what it was going to be like given the signs on the path

Once inside there were more signs forbidding you to move any of the tables.  I was too scared to take photos of these as, surprisingly enough, the owners were not very friendly.  We sat outside in a rather rancid marquee type veranda.  I'm really glad the sun was shining as inside the cafe building they appeared to be playing things like this on a continual, hellish loop.  However, even this horror couldn't spoil the gloriousness of the day and the view.

Ignore the power lines, you picky sods

I'm not sure if it was all the gadding about, the side effects of the chemo (still mercifully few) or good old cancer related fatigue but I did end up pretty tired for a good few days.  I was forced to rest up at home and eat food that even I could cook

Many thanks for the spiffy new egg cup J!

But I suspect my tiredness was as nothing compared to that of my ex-husband who ran the Shrewsbury half-marathon in blistering heat for Breakthrough Breast Cancer (a charity I've got a lot of time for), so hats off to him.  Also hats off to Frances, who took part in a recent Race for Life bearing my name on her competitor's bid.  Thanks Frances

That's all the news from Discombobulated Towers for the time being. I'm off to do battle with my new sewing machine in the hope that next time I'll be able to post a photo of my luminous new PJ bottoms.  You lucky devils you!