185. Another year gone by...

Since I’m one walking (almost), talking mass of side effects PLUS my life is consequently quite limited PLUS I’m living the life of The Shielded Ones, things are singularly unexciting on the Jan front, let alone the breast cancer front.

Having written that, I can stop saying Breast Cancer as I don’t have it and haven’t had it for well over a year. I just have to contend with all the damage done by the treatments. I can live with that. I am happy to remind myself and the world that I DON’T HAVE BREAST CANCER.

I turned 69 on Monday. I hadn’t planned on celebrating but, as usual, Trina twisted my arm metaphorically speaking. We had afternoon tea delivered by a local catering firm and dined on delicate sandwiches and a LOT of cake (which lasted us two days). (I’m not noted for my food presentation skills - nor would you be after my experiences in Domestic Science - I do know how to clean behind taps though). Fortunately we’d been warned so D had no let-out that he’s just eaten and it was very tasty. I got three bouquets of flowers, all of which are still going strong (well, one is flagging but I’ve just bucked the roses up with a plunge into boiling water that usually does the trick). I also got a video of Sheila demonstrating that she has taken to piano lessons more successfully than I did and a rendition of Happy Birthday (hmm, I wonder of it’s copyrighted - I could put it here!!); and a chatty email from Lesley.



You may notice one source of gift remains missing... Dennis did the usual routine of making getting me a present (found by me, ordered by me, paid for on my card) such a toil that I suggested he forget it. His brother redeemed the Brown reputation with a gift voucher which inevitably will be spent on books.

All in all, a nice birthday. I remember disliking my 29th birthday because it marked the beginning of my 30th year and 30 was completely grown up, no excuses. None of the others (39, 49 etc) bothered me but there’s something about being in my 70th year, particularly while my body is feeling so decrepit, that makes me feel I’ve entered Old Age. Certainly in terms of data and statistics I have. Mentally I’m nowhere near. I need my body to perk up so I don’t feel that 70 will mark a steady decline. Apologies to my 70+ friends - I know ‘you’re only as old as you feel’ and ‘age is just a number’ etc etc but I’m talking about how I feel right now. Yesterday I stripped and remade the bed. That was it. Done in for the rest of the day.

Today I talked at length to someone from Breast Cancer Haven about my ‘side effects’ as I feel there are several people, each of whom knows about things from their own perspective, each willing to deal with it from their own perspective and each wanting to refer it on to someone else, who of course refers it back. It’s good that they want to help but no one is actually doing anything. Rheumatology has decided I don’t need to be seen and passed it back to my GP. I got a text asking me to reply within 30 minutes if I wanted an evening consultation with my GP. It arrived at 15 minutes past MIDNIGHT.

It was good to have someone to talk to, though she needed me to go right back to diagnosis, so that took an age, but she had no answers beyond the fact that Rheumatology might be more responsive to the referral made by the oncologist. Might. What if they still don’t think I need to be seen? I don’t believe I have a rheumatoid illness but I suspect I need a rheumatoid treatment. If not, I don’t see how I can risk having the next zometa treatment in 4 weeks time. Once it’s in, there’s no going back. If the problems increase exponentially with each dose, life will be rather difficult.

Now I shall return to my latest addiction. The easiest art available. No paint, no mess, no shaking hand and inability to grip a brush. Just a simple app, choose my design and then tap the screen - painting by numbers in the 21st century. I remember Mum doing a Painting By Numbers she got for Christmas when I was about 5. It hung above the fireplace till we moved and was never seen again. I distinctly remember the oily smell that clung to your tonsils, yet they were the tiniest, dinkiest pots of paint you could imagine. Anyway, none of that nonsense nowadays. If you want to give it a try as a form of relaxation, it’s in any App Store, free, and is called Happy Color. This is one of my favourites, though I have no idea what it can be. I like buildings and landscapes, with the occasional mandala.