Friday, 16 March 2012

NOT THE HITCHCOCK MOVIE



Hello lovelies!

Notes of the state of my current functionality:

1. Floors have developed curious dips and bumps – rising up suddenly or disappearing as I take a step.
2. My feet are on the floor, but rest of me can tend to lurch a little alarmingly at times.
3. Turning my head when not seated is a recipe for a really good stagger.
4. I am stunned to realize how fast you can learn to cope with this stuff – Hands flat against the shower wall to make a turn to reach for the soap, one hand on a wall to walk – and (my least favorite) clinging to a friend’s arm in open spaces. (Actually, I find that comical at times. Clutching an arm, slowly going from point A to point B with cheery determination not to land on my ass. It reminds me of old lady cartoons.)

The vertigo is having lots of vertifun with me.

The headaches are a little fierce at times, but dim with the meds and enough sleep. I can’t multi-function or listen to cross-conversations without feeling like I have bees in my brain. But I have good spells during the day and am not only coping but getting lots of good time with friends.

The radiation will stop the symptoms – and cause others, so I may go quiet for the first week. This will be next week, sometime.

My oncologist, Dr. Bowes, now phones and announces himself as, “Hi! This is Dave Bowes.” Makes me grin. He’s such a great guy. So, Dave is now mapping treatment and I should start next week. When the hospital told me that, it surprised me. Stupidly, I had pictured the radiation as a kind of generic blast and it had never occurred to me that Dave had to sit there with my MRI results and plot how much radiation and where. And whether or not he succeeds in keeping the damages down, I’m happy it’s him doing it because I know he’ll do his level best. I trust him.

Heather is in! Mostly. Many bits and bobs to come – and still a lot of sorting out to do, and I now have a sort of little bachelor apartment in my former studio. Half studio, half bedroom – you could not do the tango in here, but it’s cozy and I love having Hurricane Heather in the house.

Just a short one today. I’ve had to squeeze so much apartment clearing and visiting in lately that there hasn’t been time to write much. But overall, it’s been joyful  and how lucky am I that I have this time to be with my friends and loved ones – have time for us to say what we need to and laugh together. I have a repertoire of awful brain cancer jokes that I’m very proud of by now. There are serious moments – those lurk. You can’t help it. But all of us are determined not to waste anymore time on sadness than can be avoided.

Now, if I can just make it to the lavender farm in Seaforth, I figure it’s as perfect a life as you could hope for.

I know I owe letters – and soon, honest!

2 comments:

Cynthia Newcomer Daniel said...

Hurrah for good friends and laughter - they are the best. I hope the radiation helps with the headaches and vertigo.

Roberta said...

I am glad you like your doctor. He sounds really great and comfortable. Good luck next week. I hope he blasts that thing into the next county!