Spring & Scabby Threads

The Full Bush Rat has been MIA.

I feel the need to provide an update on the last few months. I have lots to moan and complain about.

Monday, 31 July 2023

Today, one of my work colleagues described me as a Rock Star. I am embracing this 100% and might even get a new tattoo.

Wednesday, 2 August 2023

I’m pissed off with the universe. Today, the wife of one of work colleagues was diagnosed with breast cancer. A beautiful woman, a mum, a wife, daughter, sister. Generous, kind, clever, strong – she seriously does not have a bad bone in her body. Why why why?? Why do shit things happen to good people? Tonight they will tell the children. My heart is breaking. So many memories of being scared, sad, confused, overwhelmed while trying to stay stoic, cool, upbeat.

Right now, the universe can go and fuck itself.

My Name

I’m thinking of changing my name. To a single, easy to spell word like Madonna or Prince. Not a symbol because that would be wanky but if I did it would be the dodgy donkey I drew in Pictionary all those years back … which successfully lost the game for my team mate and me. The upside being, I was never asked to partner for Pictionary again.

The Hair

I should be grateful I have hair right now. For some, the hair never grows back. And as many men have reminded me, they have been battling receding hairlines forever and received no sympathy whatsoever. A poem:

My Hair Journey

scabby threads

romper-stomper-esque fuzz

tinkerbell comb-over

beaker

50 shades of grey

elfin punk mop

I now sport an Andy Warhol meets Boris Johnson shambles. No, I am not artistic or homeless. Nor do I own numerous cats.

Back to Reality

That’s the end of the good things.

My dog is sick. I took her to the vet last Wednesday then another vet yesterday for a second opinion.

She is weak and definitely uncomfortable. Munching grass like a mofo, hurling it up, eating it again, throwing it up again. It’s a mystery. The vet gave her a jab to stop the vomiting and she is now on a daily probiotic and an antacid. She has been lying at my feet in the study today … there have been some rather disturbing smells emanating from under my desk this afternoon … maybe things are starting to ‘move’. Poor girl.

31 October 2023

1 year ago today, I had my last round of chemo. Yeah, that was shit. But good. But shit. It was one of the most weird, awful experiences in my life. Willingly pouring a cocktail of poison into your body, becoming a bald, shuffling, wreck to make yourself well just seems nonsensical. It worked.

1 November 2023

3-month check-up with radiation oncology. I don’t bother with the offered ‘modesty’ slip now. My breasticles are no longer loved, precious or of interest to me. They are merely droopy bits of tissue that require daily support. The region that was operated on then blasted with nuclearfication, is still discoloured, raised and hardened. The doc says it may remain like that for ... ? Like chemo, radiation damages normal cells and tissue which can disrupt all those complex ‘connections’ ie. muscles, tendons etc. He recommends keeping up with the physio exercises and massaging the area to get the lymphatic system moving again. Thank you. See you next year. 

2 November 2023

Surprise! You nearly missed an appointment. It’s time for your 6-monthly zoledronic acid infusion. Need to get bloods done in advance. 10:30am, Level 4, Building 19. I am not ready for this. How did it drop off my radar? I scoot down promptly – reception, masked, tagged, waiting. I almost break out in a cold sweat when I enter the treatment area. The sound of the machines (pumps) beeping is almost unbearable. Matthew, the RN tends to me and the world is just a little bit better. Matt – if you ever read this, know you, Mike, Hannah, Lois – and all your colleagues – are fucking legends. The stream of patients is constant. The chairs are always occupied. When one patient vacates, the chairs are wiped down ready for the next. All are treated with the upmost care and professionalism.

If anyone needs a reminder to be grateful for your lot, stick your head into one of the pods on level 4.

I found out later a work colleague’s wife was in for treatment on the same day. For stomach cancer. If I’d known, we could have shared a cheese-slaw sandwich and a coconut and jam slice (handmade and delivered by volunteers – more beautiful people).

4 November 2023

The loneliness is unbearable. What I would give to have someone hold me, offer me comfort.

When you, your loved ones are impacted by an illness, not a day goes by that you aren’t confronted by an arm-chair expert providing some rationalisation for your disease, lifestyle choices. Even my mother said "cheer up, could be worse". Yes, it could be. But you're not the one living it.

It’s just statistics people (note: if you didn’t pass Statistics 101, please check yourself in for a refresher).

Based on the feedback from my (amazing) health care team, there is little – to nothing – I could have done to not be where I am now. If it wasn’t me, it might have been you.

Give thanks to the amazing health care we have in Australia, the nurses, doctors, researchers. I have no interest in god or jesus, he/she has done bugger all to protect my best and dearest and self.

Yesterday and last night I experienced the fallout from the zoledronic acid. Restlessness, headache, shakes, sweats, low-grade temp, diarrhea and worst of all, sharp streaks of pain in my bones. 

It makes me cross to write this post so I’m going to sign off. I’ve heard well-meaning people say, “everything happens for a reason”. Please tell me what that reason is because right now, I’ve got nothing.

Love yous all,

FBR