Cancer 219

The endless cycles of cancer. I think I notice changes much more than when I was well. In my state I need to notice what appear to be small changes because they might have massive consequences. This at least partially explains the roller coaster nature of my life. I was driving to have my blood test this morning with a lot of abdominal pain. After the test (which took three goes with the needle) I drove home, and during that 25 minutes my stoma bag filled, and I mean filled. If I had been going much further I would have needed to empty it before it exploded. The toilet looked like a chocolate bomb had hit it. A small animal could have walked across the toilet without getting wet, as it looked blocked. Are you getting the image? It was a lot of stuff. I must now be cleared from my time of constipation.

The thing was I ended up very tired and falling asleep this morning. There are a number of factors. I slept very little last night. I was in pain and needed to sit up rather than lie down. so I did. Blood was taken from me – not a lot but enough. My bowels emptied with a lot of fuss. These elements together tire me, make me think I am going to have yet another unproductive day. Oh yes, I am having my flu jab shortly, so that will probably knock me about a bit.

It is this constant battering of my body in so many different ways that I find increasingly difficult to deal with. Most of the things are minor, and alone I wouldn’t think about them, but I can have several things going on at once, and then in addition I am in paid, and I am a little sick of it. I know I am never going to be well, but it would be nice to get as well as I was on my previous treatment a few months ago. I was limited but nothing like this. It is increasingly difficult to get on with any mental work, let alone physical tasks The other day I managed to change the pull cord for the bathroom light, which involved standing on a stool. This morning I was to line the Christmas cake tin but I couldn’t finish it because I struggled to remain standing for the time it took. I just needed to sit down.

I ate a full portion of a bought-in shepherd’s pie last night, along with a few Brussels. It was too much, but I did finish it. That was probably a mistake. I still struggle to see a plate unemptied. That is the power of sitting at a childhood dining table, thou shalt not waste food. It presumably arose from the war experience of my parents, though it might have been because they didn’t have a lot of money and so food should not be wasted. It was rarely a problem as a child because I needed five or six meals a day to enable me to be as active as I was. It is not like that now. Being active means planning to stand up from my chair and go to the toilet, or, as is the case now so I had better stop writing, walk all the way to the GP surgery next door for a flu jab. I hope I can manage to walk home again!