P is for….

Pearls of wisdom

I took a real nugget away from my counselling session yesterday. I had spent quite a bit of time whinging about various things and situations and kept interrupting myself to comment on how trivial it all sounds in light of my prognosis. My counsellor then gave me a real gem. She said that she thought it was great that I am still able to care about the smaller things – that this shows I’m still living my life, not putting “real” life on hold. She told me she thought I should be positive about remaining so connected with the smaller things and that it was a good thing still to care enough to grouse.  It was a pearl of wisdom, one that I was very grateful to receive. It turned what I had felt was quite a negative session into a very positive one and threw a shaft of light on the grey that I was feeling. 

Pain

I’ve been in a bit of pain on and off, particularly over the last few days. Elliot is keen for me to ask my lovely chemo nurses for some stronger pain relief, but it’s a real Catch 22 situation as stronger drugs will inevitably mean I will feel woozy. The choice seems to be between being clear headed but in pain or woozy but comfortable. Neither option screams “pick me”. I feel that I spend much of my chemo and the days immediately following feeling sleepy and mentally blurred so I am loathe to surrender to more of the same on my “good” days. Yet equally why be in pain when I don’t have to be?  Yet another delightful paradox generated by my current position. 

Personal shopper

On a more positive note, my darling sister in law organised a personal shopping experience for me at the weekend to help me find a dress for my brother’s wedding. As is often the case, she got it spot on. We had a brilliant time with the lovely Amanda in Debenhams at Westfield, and needless to say I came away with an outfit that, even in my large steroid-induced chemo-filled size, flatters and makes me feel special. Hooray! 

Which leads neatly onto….

Pizza

Today my team at work all went for lunch at our local favourite Italian restaurant. It was lovely (not just the pizza!) – a real dash of normality and niceness. The team keeps growing but nonetheless retains a great dynamic – friendly, intelligent, fun people enjoying each other’s company.  

Penny

One of my special online friends passed away two days ago. I have been heartbroken and thinking of her family constantly. Penny was 39, mum to two small boys and a loving wife, sister and daughter. She was a beautiful lady both on the outside and the inside. Repeated treatment failed to work on her extremely aggressive breast cancer and she ended up in huge amounts of pain. In the end she saw the writing on the wall and decided to decline further treatment. She lived only a few weeks longer. Although she and I never met in person I felt a real bond with her. I loathe what happened to her. I feel like my heart is spilling over with grief for her loved ones, for the hole she has left behind in their lives. Penny, I hope and pray you are at peace. Sleep well, lovely lady xxx

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One thought on “P is for….

  1. Hi Rosie, so sorry to hear about Penny. It’s just too sad to think that this cruel disease is still taking people too soon. I do feel there is a vaccine or something on the horizon to stop cancer forming but it can’t come too soon, can it.
    I had a similar chat with a nurse soon after the end of my chemo when I was lamenting looking like my dad (no offence but he is a 72 year old male) when I had no hair and in the next breath, feeling guilty about being bothered when chemo was one of the ways the brilliance of the medical profession was trying to save my life. The nurse said that not being bothered about my appearance would be a warning bell for them. It’s seen as a cause for suspicion of depression when people are no longer bothered about their appearance. It tickled me. Now I feel vindicated when I spend way too long dithering between outfits for work or hiding from the postman when I’m working from home in my pyjamas, knowing the kind soul will leave the parcel for me. So you keep on whingeing (you whinge so nicely anyway) and be kind to yourself – you deserve it.

    Like

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