I've just had a mild altercation with a lady in the bus, who clearly wanted to play "I'm more worthy of this disabled seat than you are". I mean, seriously. I'm thirty two feeling sixteen because I can't do confrontation, sitting in the space normally set out for sixty-four year olds!
It's been an odd week; I've wanted to write but nothing has really happened or seemed worthy. I'm coming off my steroids in a different way to usual and it appears to be working this time. Instead of taking them in a "one day off, two days on" pattern as recommended by the Oncology team, I've been stretching the time between them. I'm currently doing 36 hour gaps with little side effects (I think) and tomorrow start 48 hour spaces.
I say no side effects, but I did spend almost the whole weekend in isolation and wanted to - odd considering that being in them on a higher dose makes me antisocial, and apparently so does coming off them. On Tuesday mum was due to pop in and I realised I was going a bit stir-crazy, so I met her at a local cafe and we sat in the window watching the world, and I felt reconnected. And ready.
I met a few different (ex-) colleagues (I must get used to saying the ex- part - I've not been properly at work for nearly two years!) yesterday evening - all very excited with their news. One is newly engaged, one is leaving having been headhunted, others are doing big projects and all sorts.
They're all excited for me, being so well and stable and looking so healthy but... That's not an achievement, is it? I haven't gotten here from hard work - it's all luck and the hard work of the researchers and amazing people that create the drugs. I'm just receiving - and lucky to be able to.
My Pops is doing well - his hormone treatments have started and in a couple of weeks we get to go meet his Oncology team and plan the start of his chemotherapy - most likely in the same week at the start of October. It's good that his treatment has started - the waiting is so hard when you can almost feel the cancer growing inside you. Envisioning something like black mould or little green monsters the size of nanobots multiplying...
Okay so I'm feeling a bit sensitive - I have an Oncology appointment myself in an hour and I missed my train by moments, so once again I'm at a train station updating you. I've had stretch marks suddenly appear in the fatty bit of one arm - not both, just there, high up - and I'm worried about lymph node involvement. I don't even have the balls to feel it and wonder if it is lumpy or soft or what it should/shouldn't be like. I just know something isn't right and I'm going to talk to them today. Being stable at the last set of scans might be a relief at the time, but never means it'll last.
I have lots to tell you about. My dad's friend in Liverpool had secondary lung cancer and is about to start radiotherapy for brain mets. My/his desk arrived refurbished and looks gorgeous. It's insanely girly now with all my mad tat, but I couldn't be prouder. Even he is impressed with the work.
I had my eyebrows done - they look great. I'm back in Weight Watchers - also going great. My train is being delayed... Less great. More later.
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