STOP. Chemo Time.

I thought it was about time I wrote about Chemo. I wrote that sentence and then nothing happened because how do you write about Chemo?

On a side note; it has come to my attention that people (and by people, I mean cancer people) debate whether cancer and chemo should be given capital letters. Unless it’s beginning a sentence, the grammar police would probably say no but this isn’t what the debate hinges on. No sir, it’s whether one gives ones power away when one gives these words a capital! I enjoy this debate. I personally don’t understand it, but I enjoy it, it tickles me. To whom does the power go for one thing? I can’t type either word now without thinking about the debate and the power….

I’ve been moving around all summer, from Dad’s house to the flat and back. I spent the last few days unpacking, sorting, and finally putting away. It feels good to be in the same spot for a while. Trying to unpack my mind, examine the contents of those boxes? Well, it’s slightly more daunting.

I’ve been having an internal monologue about how I was going to tackle this subject, pretty much since before my first round of treatment. I believe I’ve remained mostly silent on the ‘nitty gritty’, not counting my spectacular hissy fit in July – which you can relive here.

Reading that post back is painful and a little bit funny. I was really incensed by Facebook posts. I can’t lie, I still hold mini grudges against people who use that medium to do nothing but complain, especially about illness. Jeez, at least get yourself a Blog!

I’m hoping that this time round I can be more measured….. I’m going to aim for measured at any rate. I’ve spent some time wondering if I should write about my ‘summer project’. Is it useful to? For me or anyone? Will it just come across as either a martyred showing of my scars or a brazen humble brag? The best answer I’ve come up with is probably. Probably it will be all of the above.

In our family we have a short hand, When people seem to be doing a nice thing but are actually just tooting their own horn, someone will mutter “speech by Toad”. This comes from the end of Wind in the Willows; before his dressing down by Badger, Toad’s Thank You Party consists mostly of speeches, songs and poems about his daring deeds and heroic actions, mostly falsified.

In a bid to fence in my ‘toading’, I thought I’d at least try to separate my posts out – a practical guide and a more personal account. Future me and others can then choose for themselves.

As I seem to have successfully avoided writing much at all about Chemo, in my first Chemo Titled post. I shall leave you with 5 random facts on the subject. A warm up if you will.

1) The most painful place I have thus far had an injection is my bottom. I know, I couldn’t believe it! It’s a well padded specimen and I was under the false belief that this would ‘cushion’ the sensation.

2) I really should have bought shares in Watermelon, Chicken Stock, Elderflower Cordial, and Lemon Barley Water. Whether I will ever touch them again remains to be seen.

3) I really can be bribed with food. Dad would actually put a slice of cake at the bottom of the garden in a bid to coax me down. I felt like some feral creature scurrying out to retrieve it. I am 95% sure this was A’s idea because, in the nicest possible way, Dad is Good Cop and A is Bad Cop. When it comes to Chemo anyway.

4) The final eye lash count on my left eye is 16, 15 on the top and 1 on the bottom.

5) Hot Flashes are a Fucking Nightmare.