Today, after 6 months of caring for me during the worst period of my life, my parents are heading back to Wales. The complexity of what I'm feeling, and the urge to look back over the last six months and see just how damn far we've come, has me itching to write again for the first time since January.
At first it went unnoticed. Silent tendrils of smoke licking at the walls, and small flames creeping their way through each room. By the time it was caught the inferno had a firm grip and was raging uncontrollably, wreaking immeasurable damage throughout the place I called home.
Ever fancied a litmus test for your friendships? Then may I recommend a cancer diagnosis. You'll be surprised, I guarantee it.
Hopefully a relatively short update today just to bring everyone up to speed and to get back into the swing of things. Hah, yeah right.
Tomorrow, I will have my first PET-CT scan since chemo started. It will tell my doctors whether or not my chemotherapy is working. What if my chemo isn't working as well as it should be? What if it hasn't had any effect? What if my cancer has gotten worse?
What I am getting my knickers in a twist about that I am constantly wracked with a festering combination of guilt, frustration and resentment about the level of work I have to put in to helping others navigate my current situation. The seemingly endless placating and stroking of bruised feelings. How much of my currently very limited energy, emotion and willpower I'm expending on this shitty game of 4D top trumps that I'd rather be putting into oh, I don't know, literally anything else right now.
Let's start with a game of 'what's currently happening to Ceri's body', shall we? I even have some photos for you.
Yesterday was quite an exciting (and very tiring!) day, because I had the pleasure of being filmed for a Macmillan advert - fancy or what?!
I promised I wouldn't shy away from the rougher bits of this cancer situation, and so I'm not. I know that I wanted to see what I had in store at the start of the diagnosis, so I'm hoping this will help others. But please be gentle with this one, because I'm feeling very vulnerable about posting these pictures.
Today I broke down. I continue to sob as I write this. Sometimes I feel like my mind is renting a small square footage of my body. It has become communal property. Some of the tenants are part of a cooperative to keep it in good condition. Some are saboteurs. But everyone has a say. I want my body back.
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The [Other] C Word 