It seems a very long time since I wrote about Tubby the tumour, thought I had it under control didn’t I? in fact the crafty little beast was growing out of sight of the camera & when I had a scan there he was galumphing along increasing in size -though I have looked at the scan I still have no idea of dimensions. What does one compare it with? And not knowing anything about my internal organs I have no idea. My lovley oncologist was disappointed too & consoled me for keeping it at bay for longer than the initial seven-month sentence. But my objective was to stop it growing so we two could live amicably together if not forever then for a few more years – I have a good life & would rather it wasn’t terminated just yet.
My first instinctual reaction was one of disappointment. In myself, my diet, & my chats with Tubby but hey! Not the first time people have copped a deaf’un I was teaching for years!
I watched Wilko Johnson recently & admired his insouciance in the face of death & wish I felt like that. But I don’t. In fact like him I have felt far happier since the advent of the big C – have met wonderful people & received lots of support – some of which has been useful – sympathy not so useful, it just makes me cross. I told one friend to stop saying ‘poor Mo’ on pain of a thick ear. Some friends find cancer embarrassing while other ignore it – the second is preferable & many friends have survived, the disease – many haven’t.
Mine is apparently stage 4 & inoperable so all I can hope for is remission, that sounds dreadful. I am fortunate that I have no pain at all though a week or two ago I had a couple of mini strokes to keep me on my toes (or in my box!) was carted to the local hospital where my treatment was superb & it was almost but not quite worth having a TIA to reassure myself that our NHS still can be excellent – the entire experience was reassuring & the ward was busy enough to entertain with a multitude of nurses from all over the world. I met an old lady of 96 who told me she had stopped cleaning the windows of her house but still manages to dig the garden – but slowly…. I am impressed.
Now I have agreed to have radio therapy and am feeling unsure about this. I find the consultant’s fervent enthusiasm infectious enough to convince me.
But only temporarily. The idea seems to be that it won’t do any harm anyway. I have a ‘mass’ on my hip which could be cancerous. It is on the bone (not like a steak) but so far unidentified. I have a few days to ponder upon this dilemma & hope to get myself to the forest & do some heavyweight contemplation.
If I seem to be making heavy weather of this process, and it is a self-indulgence for sure but nobody has to read it besides I enjoy writing it & it clarifies my thoughts.