Sunday girl

Today I felt surprisingly good.  I was meant to go to the annual gathering of my husband's family today but I woke this morning feeling a bit wrecked.  So my dear old husband had to go on his own.  I'm also still very nervous of big congregations in close quarters in case I get an infection.  I'm particularly susceptible to one at the moment as I'm in the middle week of my treatment cycle.  That's when the white blood cells have been typically destroyed or reduced.

I did have a bit of, um, 'tummy trouble' this morning though.  I've also been getting a bit of earache in both ears but nothing serious as my temperature has been fine.  I also kept waking up during the night with a really dry cough.  Apparently at 2.00am I shouted out 'OH!!'  It was loud enough to wake my son but clearly not my dead-to-the-world husband lying beside me.

This morning, I washed the floors and made myself a smoothie for cancer patients following a recipe which I found on Pinterest.  It was absolutely delicious but I've just realised that it's meant to serve two people.  I drank it all.  Oops.  

I also put up a magnetic door net on my kitchen door to keep bugs out.  I did it all by myself, and whilst it wasn't difficult, I was quite proud that I didn't have to rely on my husband to do it.

This afternoon, I made pea and ham soup, a quiche, coleslaw, and chicken noodle soup* whilst listening to the charts from this week in 1966, 1976 and 1984.  The music was sublime.  I mean, how can anyone fail to be uplifted up by the Kinks, the Beatles, Thin Lizzy, Frankie Goes to Hollywood and Wham!?  Bloody magic!  I danced and sang along in the kitchen, much to my teenage son's irritation. 

Just a quick word about my son.  He is such a good kid even if I do have to give him a metaphorical boot up the backside every now and again.   He is so resilient and seems to be bearing up really well.  I've been open and honest with him about my treatment but I've kept it really upbeat and positive.  I know he's 'OK' because he still gives me cheek and gets impatient with me.  Sometimes I say something (tongue in cheek) about my treatment and he goes, 'Oh, no, you're playing the 'Cancer Card' again.'   Cheeky monkey.

As I write this blog, my energy levels have started to dip and I'm beginning to feel quite tired.  My husband won't be home for a while so it looks like an evening on the sofa watching an episode of Mad Men is on the cards.  Donald Draper, here I come.

*I'm an idiot.  When I looked at the soup the next day, it was no longer liquid but a whole load of chicken infused noodles.  I looked at the recipe again and realised I should have used cooked noodles not uncooked ones.  I blame chemo brain.

PS

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