Breaking news

You know how there's been endless news reports lately about horsemeat finding its way into products supposedly made from beef?  Well, the scandal is about to get much, much worse.  Today I went to Llandrindod Wells and look what I saw in a butcher's window:

Pet mince!  You heard it here first.

I'll be keeping Cyril (three-legged monster cat) well away from that butchers (although maybe that is where his missing leg ended up).

So, tomorrow is mastectomy day.  I'm beginning to get a bit nervous now but the other-half has been distracting me by taking me to Wales today, swearing at other drivers and buying bags of chocolate covered raisins (food of the gods).

On the way back from Wales we stopped at one of my favourite places.  Mitchell's Fold, a Bronze Age stone circle in South Shropshire.

More atmosphere than you could shake a druid at (if you were that way inclined)

It had been a grim and grey day in Wales but true to form the sun made an appearance as we returned to Shropshire.

View from Mitchell's Fold, told you it was atmospheric

I'm not sure how long I'll be in hospital for, but it will probably be a good few days before I next get to post here.  I bet you're missing me already.  So I'll say goodbye for now and warn you to stand by for a lot of whinging on my return.  The photo below was supposed to be a lovely shot of me waving as the sun sets.  The other-half informs me I looks like a Martian. 

Greetings Earthlings.

Boggle blues

I have given up online Boggle for Lent.  This has made me grumpy (but not as grumpy as my inability to find a photograph to illustrate my fed-up-ness with the deprivation).  The other-half reckons I was addicted, just because I used to shout at him if he dared to speak to me, or indeed breathe, during my two hour long Boggle sessions. 

Fear not though, I’m still finding reasons to shout at him even without the irritating Boggle interruptions.  The other day I informed him he was ‘relentlessly annoying’ so he told me he was giving up being married for Lent.  I should, grudgingly, also point out that he cooked a surprise Valentines breakfast (scrambled egg, smoked salmon accompanied by red rose).  We don’t usually ‘do’ Valentines Day so this was a big deal.  Mind you since then he has blotted his copybook by repeatedly pointing out that I didn’t get him anything in return and how much he would love to receive a massive Easter egg.  Dream on matey.

Since I last posted I’ve had another Herceptin top-up, a pre-op assessment (surgery scheduled for 28^th February) and an appointment with the oncologist.  Yet another new one, Smokey (he looks like Smokey Robinson).  Smokey was upbeat and even spoke about the monitoring procedure should the disease remain stable for a couple of years.  This is the first time any oncologist has mentioned the possibility of me being around in two years time so I’m a Smokey fan.  (For any long term readers Smokey also informed me that the Anti-Doogie has left the hospital and gone to Kuwait.  And he never even said goodbye).

Happily to fill the time previously taken up by Boogle I have found (via Useless Beauty) a brilliant blog called Streetmogs.  I suggest you rush there now for an immediate cat fix. 

King of the world

Me?  Blowing my own trumpet?  Never.

I have been doing battle with my ex-employer (the local council) and I have emerged victorious, yay me.  The ratbags* decided to make deductions from my notice-period salary as I was also receiving a state benefit (Employment Support Allowance).  I checked with the Benefits Bods and the Citizens Advice Bureau and both advised me that my employer was wrong, wrong, wrong.  There followed an exchange of emails between the ratbags and I, where I gamely bandied about phrases like ‘custom and practice’,‘unlawful deductions’ and ‘employment tribunal’.  After some initial resistance, a white flag has been waved and I will be getting a full refund.  Disco Del 1 – Ratbags 0.

(*I should point out that my ex-employer was only a ratbag about this one particular thing.  When it came to sick leave, sick pay and early retirement they were helpful, kind and cuddly.  So they’re not all bad.  Look at me being all magnanimous in victory.  I hope you’re wearing sunglasses as my halo must be dazzling.)

Anyway the refund will go towards the new kitchen.  If it ever happens.  We are still waiting for quotes from a couple of builders.  If they went any slower they’d be going backwards.  Makes you wonder how long it will take them to actually build if merely quoting takes this long.  The other-half is tearing his hair out.  I am rising above it.  Although it’d probably be more truthful to say that I haven’t got enough space in my addled brain to worry about builders and my forthcoming surgery.

My latest brain melt down has seen me lose a whole box of Tamoxifen on my way home from the chemist on Friday.  So I have been without medication all weekend.  I’ve phoned the doctor and groveled and hope to get a replacement prescription this afternoon.  I will guard it with my life.

In other tales of stupidity, all my previous talk of healthy living came to naught over the weekend, when I slid off the wagon.  A friend rather selfishly had a birthday (you know who you are!) so I had to drink champagne and red wine, it’s the law.  The next morning was not great.  I am back on the wagon again.

It’s still chilly here but on Saturday we put on a thousand layers and went for a stroll.  And look, the snowdrops are out!    

 

So maybe spring is just around the corner.  But just in case it isn’t and you’re in need of cheering up, here’s my latest YouTube find.  The best clip of a cat riding on a sheep’s back you’re ever likely to see.  Enjoy.

Trying to find a balance

Oh alright the photo's a bit dark.  The lighting crew were on lunch break.

The trouble with my Attacking-Cancer-on-all-Fronts scheme is that it can end up making my life all about cancer.  Or, to put it another way, I'm in danger of doing my own bloody head in. In between meditating, visualizing (and I visualize my main tumour as a sort of malevolent cocktail sausage just in case you’re interested), juicing, cooking from scratch, reiki-ng, taking the medication, reading up on the disease (which includes a lot of trying to sort the wheat from the limitless bloody chaff),there doesn’t seem to be a lot of brain-space left over for other things.  Like cat-worship, husband-baiting or continuing my bitter feud with the allotment Nazis.  I just did some on-line shopping but even that was for pyjamas for my hospital stay (mind you that was essential as I don’t want to disgrace myself by wearing my usual threadbare jim-jams). 

I can imagine you rolling your eyes and saying ‘well stop doing all the cancery stuff then idiot’.  But ‘aha’ I reply, ‘there’s evidence in something I read somewhere (what do you expect? Academic footnotes?) that patients who do more than sit back and leave everything totally in the hands of the medics survive for longer’.  So I’m between a rock and a hard place and on the horns of a dilemma.  It’s a good thing I’m wearing reinforced knickers.

Have you noticed the new, improved blog design?  Actually I’m not sure that it is improved but it’s different anyway.  My apologies to anyone who saw it during its change in a brief putrid peach incarnation.  I hope you’ve managed to get the vomiting under control and that you find dreary grey less distressing.

And now, in an effort to restore some balance to my life, I am going to do a rash, dangerous and non-cancery thing.  I’m going to Tidy The Cupboard Under The Stairs.  Here’s the magnitude of my task:

Somewhere in there is the camera charger.  I hope.

 Wish me luck.

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).

Dark days of winter and a chink of light

My central heating boiler, which had been temporarily fixed, spluttered to final leaky stop on Saturday and left us without heat or hot water.  I have been welded to the log burner ever since in an effort to keep warm.  Meanwhile outside the weather is like this:

The figure in black is me, practising for my artic expedition

These pictures were taken during a bracing walk at Attingham Park, but mostly I’ve been in front of the fire keeping warm.  It's jigsaw weather so, just like last year, Cyril (three-legged monster cat) has been lending a helping paw:

Thanks for nothing matey

 A new boiler is being fitted tomorrow, a day of national celebration is planned.

I went to the lovely warm hospital today for my three-weekly dose of herceptin.  The nurse gave me a sneak preview of my CT results from the scan last week.  No change.  While I'd love to see some shrinkage, no change is the next best thing, especially given that there had a been a question mark over the previous scan as regards possible increase in the growths in my lungs (or, to give it its medical term 'lung crap').  So, although I won't get an official update and future treatment plan until I see the oncologist next month, I am feeling pretty relieved.  I marked the occassion with spaghetti hoops on toast.  Jigsaws and spaghetti hoops, I'm living on the edge.

For cat lovers only

Actually I don't why I've entitled this post 'for cat lovers only'.  Surely everyone has realised by now that the internet's sole purpose is the distribution of cute cat photos.  If you don't like cats you really have no business using a computer. 

I was on Twitter this morning (never let it be said I am frittering away my time) and came across this helpful chart on cat petting.

I can endorse the findings of this chart and have the scratches to prove it

The tweeter is Tom Cox, whose blog I follow.  For those (surely everbody) who'd like to see another cat picture I reccomend this post in particular. 

I am now off to do Something Worthwhile.  Like eat crumpets (it's still freezing here).

Apologies to all Australians but ...

Time for the thermal undies

I know, I know, you Aussies have got temperatures so high that I can’t even begin to imagine what it's like, but it’s bloomin’ freezing here. 

It wouldn’t be so bad but my heating broke down on Sunday and the heating engineers have been so run off their feet that they haven’t been able to get out to me until this morning.  They’ve fixed the problem temporarily and have placed an order for a new thingummy for the do-dah, which will solve all my problems.   Anyway I have central heating again at last.  This means I can stop wrestling with Cyril (three-legged monster cat) for the prime position in front of the log burner and use of the hot water bottle.

The local cancer centre (I’m sure there’s a nicer description than that but I’m too idle to think of it) is running a free meditation course.  I was due to go for my first session today but it’s still snowing, snowing, snowing out there so I’ve wussed out this week.

However, as part of my new attack-this-crappy-disease-on-all-fronts scheme, I did try Reiki this week.  It was a very strange and pleasant experience.  I will be going back for more.

On a more conventional note (and conventional medicine is always going to be my first port of call) I had a CT scan this week but have to wait a bit for the results.  Cue chewing of finger nails.  If only I could console myself with sherry.  However, I am staying strong (and boring) and am remaining a booze free zone.  Although I do feel deprived.

Last weekend I went to an antiques/junk fair and bought an old bottle.  

Looks prettier in real life, honest

The chap selling it told me it was an absinthe bottle from around 1910.  Yesterday I took the stopper out and had a good sniff to see if there were any traces of absinthe left.  Not that I'm desperate or anything you understand.  I couldn’t detect anything but if I suddenly go blind and/or mad you know what’s happened.

Anyway, Australian pals, I hope you get the forecasted dramatic drop in temperature and I leave you  with a picture of a three-legged, half-tailed cat being very unimpressed with the snow.

A nanosecond after this picture was taken Cyril was back indoors

It's been a funny old day

I went to The Haven in Hereford (a centre for people with breast cancer) to meet up with some fellow secondary breast cancer bods.  It was a mixture of interesting/reassuring/little bit scary, but I’m glad I went.  That wasn’t the funny bit though.

The train journey to Hereford was interesting.  Firstly the guard was unusually jolly when checking the tickets.  Then the cleaner came along and asked if we wanted our table cleaned.  When I said “yes please”, he handed me his spray can and cloth and said “I only asked if you wanted the table cleaned, I didn’t say I’d do it”.  Then the refreshment chap pushed his trolley through the carriage crying “snake venom, albatross, squirrel on a stick”.  Truly it was the comedy train.

Then to finish the day off on an even higher note I came to find a belated Christmas present had been delivered, and here it is …

Yes, really.

Watch out anyone with a birthday soon, you'll be getting your very own cat hair finger puppet.

And now I'm off for a lie down.  Who knows what tomorrow will bring.

Cheers!

This picture doesn't do the true murky-green-brown colour justice

As I said in my previous post I have taken up clean living for the New Year.  I've starting juicing again (including sensible vegetables like broccoli and spinach as well as the yummy stuff like apples and pears), making (most) meals from scratch, abstaining from the demon drink and generally being as dull as dish water.   I did warn you.

Clean living does not, however, seem to have improved my capacity for rational thought.  I ask you, what sort of dimwit orders two new sofas, signs on the dotted line, pays a deposit and then goes home to measure up only to discover, predictably enough, that the sofas would be way too big?  I'll tell you what sort of a dimwit does that, me.  It's all sorted out now (different sofas ordered) but it was embarrassing going back to the shop to explain myself.  I thought they might make me stand outside the manager's office to think about the error of my ways and how I'd let myself down.

On the health front it's a CT scan next week.  Then I have to wait the best part of a month for results.  Although I have been promised that should anything needing urgent attention turn up the hospital will call me in earlier.  I'm a bit worried about this as the last scan, in November, revealed a possible increase in the size of the little buggers in my lungs.  I shall wait a week after the scan then start making a nuisance of myself by phone.  Well, being a nuisance is as good a hobby as anything , and one at which I feel I can excel (unlike knitting).

Beards, boxes and bombshells

It’s been a memorable Christmas. 

It was the first Christmas in thirty-odd years that my three sisters and I have spent together. Amazingly there were no fights or fallings out, even though large quantities of alcohol were taken (mostly by me).  A good time was had by all (as far as I can remember).  My cockles were thoroughly warmed.

But let us remember the true spirit of the season.  Soppy family stuff has its place but, let’s face it, what really counts is the presents.  Here are some of the highlights:

The other-half received a fetching beardie hat:

Coming to a park bench near you

The cat received a new box:

What you looking at?

But perhaps I was the luckiest of all.  Look what I got, gift-wrapped of course:

My cup runneth over (but at least I can scrub it clean)

The scourers were a present from the other-half.  He will be sleeping in the shed for the foreseeable future.

Next stop New Year's Eve.  Have a good one everybody.  After that I will be back on the herceptin and taking up Clean Living.  Stand by for some very boring posts.

Christmas preparations

I had a sudden rush of blood to the head and washed the grimy sofa covers in time for Christmas.  Cyril (the three-legged monster cat) has just let me know what he thinks of my hard work.



I suppose it would've been worse if he had four legs

  
Anyone want a cat?

Other than sweating over a hot washing machine I've been out and about doing Christmassy things including, of course, drinking mulled wine (I see it as my Christmas duty).

We've had builders and a structural engineer round today working out how our kitchen can be transformed from a hovel to a place of grandeur.  I've never had building work done before so I'm feeling very grown up.  Work should start at the end of January, so I'll have something new to whinge about then.

In the meantime here's something that made me laugh,but then I'm a simple soul.

Spot the difference

My hair is growing slowly, slowly, everso-bloody-slowly and so far it's remaining unruly.  Sigh.  I told the other-half that I thought that I looked like a certain sporting celebrity.  Much to my dismay (but not surpise) he agreed.  So here you are:

Bradley Wiggins (picture from here)

Me, smirking in a sinister fashion

But the other-half isn't really in a position to laugh, as he too looks like someone famous.  He's been grinding his teeth in his sleep and so the dentist has supplied him with a mouth guard to wear at night.  Here he is sporting his new look.

Picture from here

And here is the celebrity he looks like, the Were Rabbit from Wallace and Grommit.

Peas in a pod.





I've had a top-up of herceptin today and all went well.  I've got a heart test on Monday (to make sure the herceptin isn't doing any damage) and then I've no more hospital appointments until after Christmas.  So, I've started feeling festive.  Today we put up our Christmas Twig (we're channeling Scrooge and not doing a tree this year).  Cyril is showing an interest.  Which is a relief as the poor little blighter has been off colour for a few days and had a trip to the vets this morning for antibiotics and something unmentionable with a thermometer.  Hopefully he's on the mend now.  I'm having to starve him for 24 hours too.  This could be a long night.

Feed me now or the twig gets it.

Woozy woes

Oooh I want to get off (picture from here)

Rhubarb.  I’m not 100% today, so I missed the last knitting lesson in the course.  I keep feeling slightly woozy woo and unsteady.  I’ll check this out with the medical bods (seeing surgeon and also getting a herceptin top-up soon), but it seems to be a fairly common side-effect of Tamoxifen.  So hopefully, there’s nothing to worry about other than the risk of stumbling about in the street and disgracing myself in public.  Although it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve done that (and it wasn’t Tamoxifen that was to blame either).

I’d been pretty smug about the lack of side-effects from Tamoxifen which was stupidly cocky seeing as I’ve only been taking it for a couple of months.  Another possible side effect (oh joy of joys for my family and friends) is mood swings.  That might account for my recent knitting-related temper tantrum when I ended up completely unraveling a nearly completed hat due to a couple of dropped stitches and unexplainable holes.  Oh well I suppose at least missing knitting class today meant that I didn’t have to confess my hissy fit to teacher.

In other news Cyril (the three-legged monster cat) is still exploring the neighbourhood.  This means he’ll have to wear a collar and address tag.  I spent some time selecting a collar.  I quite liked the diamante studded ones but I didn’t want his cat pals calling him a sissy, so I selected something a little more butch (red with gold stars and moons).  I hope it passes muster with his gang as they are definitely a bit of a rum sort.  Suffice it to say I’ve had to treat Cyril for fleas.  Oh the shame.

Bad behaviour

My sister’s new cat, Tuppence, is slinky and dainty.  In fact she looks like butter wouldn’t melt.  Do not be taken in by appearances.  See what happened when a packet of cat treats was left unattended:

(other brands of cat treat are also available)

I too have been misbehaving.  I spent a very enjoyable weekend in a rather wet Monmouth.  I am now drying out – in both senses.  I’m such a little devil that I’m going out again tomorrow night for nosh and booze, but this time I Will Be Sensible.  Maybe.

However the big news of the week is that, at knitting class, I learned how to do cable stitch.  This involves using a third needle and a great deal of concentration.  There is no end to my wonderfulness.

World turned upside down

I woke up in a much better frame of mind this morning (after yesterday’s grouchiness), which was just as well, as my newly improved mood has been sorely tested today.

Firstly, Cyril (the three-legged monster cat) went missing for five hours.  Over the past couple of weeks I’ve had to abandon my plans to restrict his outdoors meanderings to the back garden.  He may be a fat, three-legged cat but he can jump high fences with gay abandon.  I know when I am beaten.  I have to accept the fact that he likes to roam and just hope he doesn’t roam too close to the Very Busy Road.  There are other neighbourhood cats that have been around for years (Shouty Cat and Big Bad Brown Cat to name just two) without coming a cropper, so fingers crossed that Cyril comes to no harm.  However when he disappears for hours at a stretch I do start to worry.  I’ve spent a fair amount of time today standing in the back garden shaking a box of cat biscuits (the neighbours probably think I have taken up the maracas).  I never knew parenting was this hard!

Did I mention that, when he does come home, he's a smug little git?

 

Then, money problems – but not in the way you might think.  It’s a very long and dull story but to summarise both I and my employer think I am receiving a state benefit to which I am not entitled.  Over the past month I have phoned the Benefit Bods and written to them but not only do they continue to pay the benefit, they’ve actually increased it.  My employer has decided to deduct the apparent overpayment of benefit from my wages.  When I told the Benefit Bods this today they said it was wrong, that I am entitled to benefit and I should contact the Citizens Advice Bureau.  It’s all making my brain hurt.  I’m not out of pocket, far from it, with both my job and the state paying me I’m better off than when I was well and working!  But this can’t be right, there are all sorts of people being unfairly treated over this particular benefit and yet they insist on giving me dosh I don’t think I’m entitled to.  The world’s gone crazy.  It wasn’t like this when I was a girl.  Have you seen the price of sprouts these days?  I can remember when this was all fields. 

Grumpy update

Since my last post I’ve had a scan and seen the oncologist for the results.  As per bloody usual the main breast tumor is unchanged but unfortunately there is a ‘possible slight increase’ in the lung crap.  The possible increase is so slight that the plan is to wait until January then have another scan and, if the lungs are definitely getting worse, try another chemo.  The oncologist doesn’t think surgery would be a good idea at the moment as it would mean me stopping taking tamoxifen for a while and also may interfere with my three-weekly dose of herceptin, so unless the surgeon throws her rattle out of the pram (the onc and surgeon are discussing me next week) it looks like no surgery for the time being.  Things could be a lot, lot worse so I don’t know why I’m so grumpy about it, but I am.  So there.  With brass knobs on.

I also got grumpy with my knitting.  What on earth possessed me to think I wanted to knit a grey tank top?  It’s too difficult, it’s too time-consuming and it’s too grey.  So I’ve stopped and have started knitting a pink and brown hat instead.

Enlightenment

Arty shot taken at Attingham Park yesterday by the other-half

 Hello lowly earthlings.  I have achieved enlightenment.  I am now serene and perfect.  Or, to put it another way, I’ve attended a one day course on meditation.  I’d like to be able to calm myself down when I’m having a major tiswas (without resorting to a sherry bottle and a straw) and thought I’d give meditation a go.  Major tiswases have been in short supply recently but the next couple of weeks will see me having a scan and a scary oncology appointment, so I expect to go into panicky mode as those days draw nearer.  Until then, as well as meditation, I’m also sticking my head in the sand and my bum in the air which works well in seeing off the gremlins and has the added bonus of being handy for anyone wanting to park a bike.

While I’m bragging about my worthy activities, I’ve also attended a secondary breast cancer day run by Breast Cancer Care.  It was a mixture of talks on all sorts of things (medical advances, likely treatments, fatigue, relaxation techniques etc).  It was great to have the chance to meet other people in same (leaky) boat as me (although I was, rather shallowly, distracted by how much one of my fellow attendees looked like Joan Plowright).  The info given was mostly useful although the five minutes spent doing ‘laughter therapy’, when you stand in a circle jiggling about and pretending to laugh, were some of the most excruciating in my life.  The absolutely most excruciating moments of my life were, even though you didn’t ask, the time, age 11, when I ran around the school swimming pool changing room in the nudey rudey suffering from concussion (having slipped and banged my head).  Luckily I do not have a photograph to illustrate this event.

Other than meditation and cancer stuff I’ve been out and about visiting friends, relatives and cats.  Sis no 1 has just adopted a cat from Shropshire Cat Rescue.  She (the as yet unnamed cat) is camera shy, so no photos of her yet but Sheldon, the kitten adopted by my sis-in-law, remains a total show-off and here exhibits how he needs neither meditation nor sherry to relax.  That cat could teach me a thing or two.

A cry for help

Picture of grumpy cat from here

For the second day running I have put clothes through the washing machine without first checking to see if I'd left any tissues in the pockets.  Why me?