Q&A

I have been doing this blog for about a week or so now and I have had quite a few messages from people asking me 'stuff'. These questions are thought-provoking. It helps, you know, thinking and talking about cancer and all the associated 'stuff' around it. It helps me get perspective...it gets it all straight in my head. Moreover, I am glad people feel they can ask me questions, that the dreaded 'C-word' hasn't made them all polite and that they can ask...

Question: Do you feel poorly?

Um, no. Fit as a butcher's dog actually. I was on a fitness kick up until TDIFOCWC (the day I found out Colin was cancerous). I was cycling 20km, rowing 5km and lifting weights 6 times a week. My heart rate sat at a lovely 145bpm at level 14 on the bike on 'hill'. I am hoping this is a positive thing on two counts: 1. going into chemo fit and 'healthy' will be helpful to my overall wellbeing and 2. at no point during cycling/rowing/running/lifting weight did I cough my guts up or get out of breath...therefore Malcom hasn't done his special kind of cancer magic in my lungs...to boot, I am a generally healthy person over all. I haven't had a cold in over 2 years. I have cancer, but no siree, I haven't been ill for years.

Are you afraid of dying?

I must point out this question was part of a larger convo and wasn't as insensitive as it sounds!

Short answer. No. And I do plan on being around a bit longer yet. But no, death holds no real fear for me. It's as natural as living. Moreover, if worst case scenario happened, I would be lucky enough to have time to plan, time to say goodbye and time to have a fucking great party before I shuffled off this mortal coil. Few people have this privilege...people die suddenly all the time...car crash, murder, auto-erotic asphyxiation...those guys don't get to say goodbye (although I imagine at least auto-erotic asphyxiation allows you to go out with a smile...).

My mother died in her late 40s and my sister died at 30ish. Both women were alcoholics and both died from alcohol-related conditions. Neither admitted to people that they had a drinking problem, not even to their doctors, not even when they were flat out on a hospital bed dying a horrible death as their whiskey-pickled organs shut down.

You see, I pitied my mother and sister, not for being dead, but for being so godamn 'dishonest' with themselves. Did they lay dying feeling shit-scared but not being able to talk to anyone about their fear because they couldn't be honest? Their blind denial of their problems cut them off from the real world and all it had to offer. I don't mean they brought dying on themselves by being alcoholics...they drank for a reason and that was probably not their 'fault', but they died alone, dishonest and pitifully.

I have been utterly honest with everyone around me and with myself...it's not my fault I have breast cancer, but I do not need people's pity. I am upfront, full on and alive. Right up to the end, which will more than likely be enough years to see the England football team lose at least 4 more World Cups...

Wig or scarf?

Ha, the contentious question! Undecided on what to do about my tresses. I know I said I was going to go for a #1 all over if I needed chemo, just like Elvis circa '58...but I have since found out that there is a small chance I might keep said lustrous locks...there is some kind of ice-cap you can put on for 2 hours after chemo, which gives you brain-freeze like a ice-lolly, but prevents chemical-infused blood from reaching the hair folllicle and killing it. People don't always lose their hair when they have chemo.

I am undecided on the ice-cap. I do not want to wake up with hair on my pillow or walk down the street with hair dropping to the pavement behind me or have it come out in handfuls as I put a clip in. No way. I would rather just do an Elvis before this happens and be done with it.

But no, no wig. I don't want to wear a wig. If the hair comes off (and the eyebrows, the Brazilian and the eyelashes) I am doing the scarf, my friends. I have cancer, I have no hair and I ain't hiding it...well, under a scarf I will be. And it won't be just some scarf from down-the-Saturday-market. Nope, only Prada, Hermes and Pucci is sitting on this hairless head. It's the rule. It's the law-according-to-Plaingoldband and it is golden. I bought a cheeky little Moschino in readiness when I bought pillarboxredheadedgoddess her Marc Jacobs yesterday...I will be Moschino-ed up and ready for action by the time my first chemo starts.

Are you normal?

This has been asked of me a few times, both online and in real life. And also before TDIFOCWC I might add because I am not your 'normal' kinda gal...but people are unsure that I am holding it together because, well, I seem so 'normal' right now. I am not crying, shaking, wringing my hands or suddenly joining the local church and praying to God, Jesus and all the angels for mercy and love.

I just don't feel the need. I said this last week. I don't feel afraid of this at all. I am somewhat annoyed (hair falling out, looking and feeling shit, my holiday plans being scuppered...I am so shallow and selfish) and I am somewhat bemused by it all. I sometimes 'forget', when people are talking about other-things-not-connected-to-cancer that I have Colin. Then I remember and it is 'oh yeah, I have got cancer and I have to have chemo blah blah', but I am not filled with dread.

Does this make me abnormal then? I, luckily, have not really known anyone with cancer, but I know most people have. Ask yourself this: were they a right bloody state or did they quietly and stoically get on 'with' it, with dignity and no great loss of self-respect. I bet they did. I would put money on it...because human beings are amazing given the right set of circumstances...they have hidden reserves of strength and dignity which they can call on in a crisis. I reckon this is a minor crisis on the scale of life crises...and I am feeling more 'normal' now than I have done in a long time...

I am yet unsure of how deep my well of strength and dignity is, but I reckon it'll be deep enough for a bit yet...

Note to Blog followers: remind me this blog entry when I am puking my guts up, feeling shit and feeling sorry for myself as chemo progresses...it might just help me straighten myself out and regain my self-respect and dignity...