A GOOD NEWS DAY

Went to see my Oncologist yesterday. A scheduled visit to learn the results of my latest scan and find out if the Fecker is resisting or waving surrender. She shows me the first scan taken of my chest some months ago and puts the latest scan next to it and the effect is startling. Not gone completely, that would be a miracle, but reduced from half my lung to a mere small strip that will be smithereened by my next and last chemo. I now have a good chance of a period of remission where I shall be back to my old fighting form and my garden party idea is firming up.

NOAOS who was with me, grinned like a good 'un and gave me a high five...Saz hooted and punched the air [she told me she did, she was on the phone] and Lita Mona burst into tears of joy and relief when I called her; and JP smiled and hugged me.

 How can I fail to get better when wrapped in so much love?

Now we can concentrate on NOAOS's op in two weeks time and JP's triple A stent op.

Little Voice

NOAOS says that he misses the old me, that I am too quiet now, lost in my own thoughts or simply half asleep... he misses me.

I know he's right...I don't have anything to say...don't even have anything to write either. 

'What would I talk about,' I ask.

'What you were reading or had read. A film, a news story. Something you had cooked or were intending to; what the dog did, what dad said. You had an opinion on everything.'

I mull this over then my digress button switches my thoughts again and I remember what had occupied me early this morning and wonder was it worth repeating. I had been thinking of a radio program I'd heard the evening before...a conversation between two comedians... Mark Steele and Jeremy ? Couldn't for the life of me remember his surname. I went through the alphabet...Jeremy A, Jeremy B etc.. I must have worried that particular bone for half an hour. As if my life depended on it. Then it came to me...Hardy, Jeremy Hardy...phew!

 I'm still trying to think of something to say that would be worth the effort. How to explain that nowadays I don't have an opinion about anything because nothing has any importance and it all takes strength I don't have to justify this stance. I hate it...this aching tiredness that effects even inside my head. I realise that I have been quiet for sometime. I have to say something.

‘I should think you would welcome the break,’ I say weakly.

‘Ah Ma! You’ll be back...just get the chemo over with and you will be back to normal.’

‘I hope so, love.’ And I want to add “or it has not been worth the effort” but I don’t have the energy.

Best to say it...

Almost ready to drop off into that mysterious place where I sleep with the help of zopi something or other; a thought entered my head and needed voicing.

'Where would I be if I didn't have you?'
At first I thought he had already fallen asleep or was doing the old trick of ignoring me.

'Well, we wouldn't be here for a start.'

'I don't mean had I not met you in the fifties, ensnared you,  married you and had kids. And of course that would be all different.' I day dream a petite moment on how I might have hooked up with a calm stiff upper lip type...
I'm talking about what you have done, what you do for me, how you don't stop working and carry out all or most [the house is not the cleanest it's ever been]   of the daily chores.Without you I would be lost, or tucked away in some Council Nursing Home.'

'Not as long as I'm breathing, cherie. Go to sleep'

I love it when he is masterful.