Cancer 160

Misery Christmas everyone. I am back in the hospital for treatment round 29. I am surrounded by , Christmas trees, fake jollity and tinsel. Noddy Holder and Bob Geldoff are back moneymaking, amd there is a desparate attempt to forget what a state the country and the world are in,. People even seem to think that the toppling of Assad is going to lead to a better life for Syrians, forgetting that Assad was originally supported by the West and that the Islamists who have taken over support the Taliban! Welcome, Syrian women, to the world of extreme inequality and no rights.

I have a bit of a cold. The problem with having a bit of a cold when you have cancer and are undergoing chemotherapy (apart from making you a bit of a miserable bugger, see previous paragraph), is that instead of snuffling, coughing and getting on with things it makes you feel like you are dying. OK, I am dying, but hopefully not of this cold. It is difficult to describe but there is a general dysfunctionality about the body, a desire to sleep, sickness, and general internal discomfort. It isn’t helped by my hernia causing trouble. Whenever I cough – or move – it is painful. I reach down to the floor like an unfit 80 year old. I strained myself the other day by playing with the cat.

Funny, isn’t it,. how only a few days ago I was lively and looking forward to beating the world record for the number of rounds of chemotherapy and now I am back to thoughts of death. The psychology of cancer really does have elements of manic depression, though not that manic, more of cheerfulness followed by misery, which brings us full circle back to Christmas! The main cheerful aspect of all this is that my next round of chemo is 24-26 December, so I can justifiably avoid the main event. After that I hope to take a treatment break and get a little healthier. Wild January holidays here we come.