Stream of Consciousness

Saturday 6th May (Last day of Chemo)

23:39 Oh my goodness- I'm mortified! Three days into living in Glasgow and I think I'm suffering from what can only be called as homesick. I miss the comforts of the Scottish Borders! Not feeling much side effects from this intense chemo which is pretty good so far, just feeling seriously tired but can't sleep because of imense amounts of fluids being pumped into body. 

Listening to a podcast called "My dad wrote a porno" (again) I first listened to this when I was living in Paris, I remember having to rip the earphone out my ear because I was on my own on the train crippled over laughing, crying and concerned about my bladder control. Listen to this it's hilarious and you will cringe inside out.

Things I've done today to be productive
  • Applied for University to study French and Spanish to go after my newly sought after dream of being a Forensic Linguist (after watching a whole days worth of "JonBenet Ramsay" documentaries)
  • Read half of Bridget Jones's Diary, it's alright. Prefer the film. (Darcy)
  • Sent my dad out on a successful journey to get lip balm and nail fillers. 
  • Practiced French (does not happen often)
  • Slept
00:24 On my last day before coming in here, I met up with my friend Amy; she's 18 and was diagnosed with Non-Hodgkins Lymphoma about the same time as me. And I was the same age as
here when I was first diagnosed 4 years ago. Honestly she's such a trouper and finished her chemo and waiting next week for a final scan to check its all gone. Man o MAN so stressful right? Well you wouldn't think it speaking to her, she's so chill and so positive and puts me at ease. We went out for lunch, ice cream and all her family came down to mine. AMY you inspire me girl. Loads and loads of love to everyone I met in TCT Edinburgh. At the beginning of my treatment, I didn't want to speak to anyone, expecially people in the same position as me. Eventually Nicola, the support coodinator pushed me through to socialise and I've met some incredible people and families which I hope when we are all better we can hang out. Oh - so deeeeeeep need to write a joke now to make everyone feel less uncomfortable. 

00:35 So many of my lovely friends have shared this page! Thank you so much to those who have, even people I don't know so well, it's so kind. I'm just going through my inbox from when I was in ICU in March. Ooops, there is a lot of people to reply to. Feeling bad but with reasonable excuses.

00:52 I've HAD IT with these fluids. Remember that 9 litres. It's happening again tonight. This post doesn't seem like my most quality writing, more like a stream of diazapam infused consciousness. Anyway I was just thinking about another piece of advice from a friend I got earlier this week. To put my trust into the doctors. Since getting this advice I made a little change in the way things work around her. I don't want to know much about my treatment, for me knowing less about what's happening and sticking my head in the sand (ever so slightly) is helping me cope. Blood counts, dozes, side effects, I don't want to know them. I know if I feel good and I know when I feel crap that's all that matters. Outside my room door there is a chart which I had to fill in "4 things that matter to me", the following...
  • please do not tell me my blood counts
  • make me laugh!
  • a friendly chap on the door before entering
  • its lonely in here and i like to chat, let's chat, can we chat?
12:18 They literally have medication to counteract everything in the ward. This morning I was caught hiccuping and the doctor practically sprinted in with some tablets to stop the hiccups. They had gone before she got to me. 

14:39 Another example of a medicine for everything... About 20 minutes ago my whole neck began to swell and the moon face cranked back into action. Apparently I'm 1 and a half litres positive with fluid which needs ridding. Now taking medicine to pee.

Slept most of the day and polished of a family sized bag of frazzles. Tomorrow I start five days of radiation. Really nervous but excited to get but naked infront of a large team of doctors. (Not).


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