What has happened this week? I am now a woman with short hair. Di came over last night and lopped it off. I grudgingly admit it now looks better than it did , but that is NOT the point. Di's kids are great. Ollie appeared, said "I had chemo when I was 2" with a big grin on his face, showed me his scar, and then got on with hunting F round the field with F's bow and arrow. F ran into the kitchen "Mummy deer, mummy deer, the hunter is going to kill me and eat me" delighted with himself.
Woke at 5am with a sore mouth - infection in my gum. So after my appointment with the nurse - flushing the line, putting a nice white bandage on - saw MP to score some antibiotics. It hurts. It's not fair.
The good news is that my scans were all clear. Hooray, hooray, hooray.
books i have read while i have cancer
Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman
This is what I was reading when I got the diagnosis. I took it with me, unstarted to the first appointment. It hit a chord - that feeling of slipping into an alternative world, not quite connected to the real world, or at least the world that everyone else is in. For a long time I felt as if I was behind a pane of glass. That's such a cliche, but when you get to extremes of emotion, perhaps cliches are all you can use.
Bought them for S, read them myself. Gentle, melancholy, not really children's books at all.
There was a programme on the radio about therapeutic reading groups and the woman talking on it said that light, cheerful literature was rubbish for depressed people. I think she's probably right - tried some chick-lit and just got irritated with the light-weight, self-obsessed heroines. Have reverted to 14 year old boy mode - lots of page turning fantasy. Aussie bought me "Le Grand Meaulnes", but I can't quite make a go of it.
The glass book of the dream eaters
Can't remember the author, but it was a good romping page turner.
I did think I might do something beautiful and creative, but I don't seem to have any creative juices. (I can't think why!). Did obsessively make paper stars for a bit (S: Mummy, why are you making so many of them?). Something kind of mindless for the hands to do. Some knitting would be good, but I can't for the life of me think what to knit.