Category Archives: Bumpboobs

Ding ding! Round two.

Posted in Bumpboobs, Chemotherapy, Treatment by

Tomorrow is another round of chemotherapy. Today was another visit to the oncologist.

After getting my weight and blood taken (as she draws the blood, Zsolt and I count to fifty – though today we only made it to about 22), we visit with the oncologist. Every time I’ve gone, I’ve met a different doctor. Zsolt and I have a theory that the medical community would prefer to avoid emotional attachments. So, if I always have a different nurse/doctor distance is easier to maintain. It’s understandable; in my note taking job we are strongly discouraged from becoming friends with our students . . . something about a student taking things too far once with a note taker. Whatever. My stalking career once consisted of following cute boys around the mall with friends, but that was about 16 years ago. (Holy getting older, Batman)

Anyhow, we met with a lovely young doctor with excellent blond hair. She welcomed us into the room, Zsolt and I took our seats, and then she asked how the last chemo session went.

“Worst weekend ever,” might have been a reply – but I guess there are worse weekends, considering all the possible bad weekends that exist. So instead I said, “no good,” which seems a reasonable response. We explained the vomiting and the nausea and the general weakness.

Good news is that apart from the sickness, my experience was normal. I was wiped out, I recovered: normal. More good news is that she’ll be prescribing me stronger stuff for tomorrow, and if these drugs do their job she’ll be my favourite oncologist ever.

So last session was a learning experience; not just for us, but for the doctors too. Tomorrow will, hopefully, be less of an education.

You know how pets behave around the vet? My old golden retriever (sweetest dog ever) was a big coward whenever she realized where we’d arrived. I think animals can smell the fear. Well thankfully I can’t smell people’s fear, but I do remember my last chemo experience. Unlike my dog, I don’t need to be dragged through the sliding glass doors . . . but like her, I may be shaking – just a little bit.

Tomorrow will be better, one way or another. And then I can forget that initial impression. Time for bed, and tomorrow – time to get on with it!

Wound up like a spring

Posted in Bumpboobs by

The dishes are clean, table cloth steamed and the bathroom is in working order. Zsolt and his parents are rolling down the highway as I type, headed for Southampton.

I could clean more, but instead am going out for lunch. There’s still so much to do before Friday – and it will get done, because it needs to get done. But life makes room for lunch with friends, or at least it does today.

Still so much to do; no point fixating on that fact. At least, not for the next 1.5 hours.  Instead I’ll savour a mix veg burger with chips on the side, and maybbbeeee a gluten-free chocolate muffin as a meal topper.

Man, I’m tense! MUST punch it out.

Mikhail Bulgakov

Posted in Bumpboobs, Chemotherapy, Reading, Treatment by

Today while lying in bed with a cold, sipping on some ginger tea and gulping down my supplements, I received a wonderful gift. Giving gifts can be tricky – because guessing taste needs a mix of judgement and luck; besides even if you do know a person’s taste what then? After the second box of tea, third kitsch trinket (etc.), gift ideas run dry. This is a constant challenge.


But this was a wonderful surprise delivered by my wonderful husband from a friend at his office.  The gift was a book, The Master and Margarita.

If you have never read this title but do love to read, then I suggest you head immediately to your favourite bookstore and sink into the first chapter. In all senses of the word, this story is fantastic. I haven’t read much Russian literature (Anna Karenina is my list topper for ‘need to read’) but, from what I’ve read, they pen a trippy ride. Man, those Russians can write!

Anyhow – I had woken up thinking, “My goodness, yesterday was wonderful but today I’m stuck with a cold,” and couldn’t find much good in it. Now the silver lining is clear. If I hadn’t had my cold, then I wouldn’t have been in bed, and therefore (objective qualitative inference has led me to this conclusion) I would not have been in the perfect setting to receive the perfect book. By my calculations it was approximately five years, four months since I last read Bulgakov’s novel. It’s about time for another dip into that pond.

Hard cover too. 🙂 Extra exciting.

My cold is clearing. This I cannot attribute exclusively to the gift, because I absolutely must credit my acupuncturist. I arrived at her office feeling sluggish, stuffed, and grey as the sky; I reached my bed an hour later with the sniffles receding and now they’re gone. Mixed with my mom’s supplements, a pot of ginger tea, kind attention from Zsolt, and a little bed rest – that acupuncture(pressure) really makes a difference. I don’t even mind that she finds painful points all over my body and rubs them till I can’t stand it. (In fact, I kinda like it – fun!) “Pain means it’s working”, so she assures me.

And now, cherry on the top of my  ice cream sunday: Zsolt is playing Ennio Morricone’s  “L’avventuriero” on repeat in the other room, and that music fills me right from the inside.

Yesterday was lovely. I made fruit salad, rhubarb crumble, and chilli for Zsolt. We took a long walk followed with a little dancing to Frank Sinatra. We went out and pub quizzed with friends over at Trago. The entire day felt good, good, and good. So good to be normal.

Today stared miserably with a cold and some sweats – but that’s England for you, things change with every push of wind. Outside there are clouds, and it’s still fizzing rain . . . but inside, here in this bedroom and under these covers, I feel pretty good.  [Nothing befunds me, not even not knowning what befund means . . . however, according to my online dictionary I am most certainly using this word incorrectly. What do you think, Tony?]

My cold is finally passing. But just to be sure – I’m taking a nap!