Cancer 167

I don’t know where I was the other day but I heard Don’t Fear the Reaper by Blue Oyster Cult, as far as I know the only song they ever did. I quite like the song. It fits with my usual view of life and death. Unfortunately the other day it didn’t. I had quite an emotional response, to the extent of tears. For a horrible few hours I did fear the reaper. I didn’t want to die (I still don’t but the emotion has gone). I wanted to live, to keep living, to live a normal lifespan, to not miss out on all the things I usually say I won’t miss out on because I am dead.

For those hours emotion ruled and cognition failed. The rational man fell apart.

Fortunately it did ony last a short while. It did get me thinking about how that way of thinking or emoting might be the main way they live their lives. I feel sorry for them. I couldn’t live like that, certainly not for long (I now, I don;t have long anyway…..). much prefer the positive outlook. Enjoy life while it lasts.

The other problem I have been experiencing over the last few days is pain. My stoma, my abdomen, and then some referred pain in my shoulder that presumably arises because I am trying to get comfortable. It is keep me awake at night (nothing new there). I am still hopeless at taking painkillers. I have always avoided them, thinking that pain serves a purpose. I know that I should just take whatever I need but I still want to feel what is going on inside me, particularly the abdomen and my hernia, which I think is going to explode at any point (I know, they don’t explode, but that is what it feels like). I have to control my coughing. The hernia belt is not the best. I regularly buy them cheap on Amazon because I don’t like the NHS ones, which may be better for support, but as I have said before, I get far more stoma leaks wearing them because they press on the bag.

When I cough I put my hand on my abdomen and try to cough gently. It can be difficult as I usually have a lot of phlegm – the constant cold of a failing immune system.

These aches and pains keep me awake at night. While I can manage on five hours, I am generally having less than that. I lie in bed and have pains so I get up and get tired. I lay in yesterday morning until after 9am – and what did I think? Oh, is this the start of the next stage of cancer, just lying around doing nothing? So I got up.

The other thing that happened the other day was that we went to the theatre to see Swan Lake. It was a matinee performance at Buxton because of my tendency to turn into a pumpkin at 9pm. During the break I wanted an ice cream (don’t talk to me about diet, my health care people say I shouldn;’t diet), so I had to walk through crowds. That is not an idea with stoma, hernia belt and Hickman line dangling. I was terrified someone was going to bang into it so I ended up being the aggressive one, not too aggressive I hope, holding my hands and arms across my vulnerable chest and abdomen and not letting anyone near. The ice cream wasn’t worth it. It was from Leeds rather than one of the excellent ice creams we have here in Derbyshire – especially the one from Monyask made with raw milk. So what if it is February?

There are always new experiences with cancer, though I don’t recommend trying it.

We are going on holiday, back to the Netherlands. I have started some new research, not serious research. I have no intention of publishing or doing anything else with it. That career is over. I am looking at the history of the Netherlands in the so-called golden age, in relation to the paintings done in relation to the various wars, the science and the culture of the time. I will be rubbish at the paintings side of things with my colourblindness, but I don’t care. How did I get to my age knowing so little about the Netherlands?

Talking of which, I have let my British Psychological Society membership lapse, so I am no longer Chartered or a Fellow. I have lost lots of letters from my name. I am going to let everything lapse except my Fellowship of the Royal Historical Society. I would rather be a historian than a psychologist. I should have though of that earlier. Never mind.