Aggressive little bugger- it would seem….

I’m all for thinking the worst will happen, and normally it does.
I was expecting the line of questions for any sort of money supplement to go through plenty of things, but when saying it to complete strangers, it seems that bit more real.

I wasn’t expecting Fred and Dr Spooner to agree so rapidly that they might as well DS1500 the paperwork, as a precaution; because of the same reason Dr Spooner said: because they don’t know.

Fred says he is calling them to arrange and do all the paperwork related to it, but after the scan in the morning, I’ll call them anyway, just in case he forgets!

I can feel it slowly sinking in now though, the slow realisation that days are numbered; I just don’t know how many. I can’t be too scared though, can I?

Some answers

A much shorter appointment with Dr Spooner today, there’s not a lot he could add, so made sense. Pretty much a making sure I was alive, no reactions and a little chat.

The tightness and slight discomfort in my stomach questions were, as predicted, nothing, but at least he’s aware should it do anything really drastic.

I couldn’t help but ask about the type and grade of Clive, it’s my head after all! It is a glioma and currently they are classing it as a grade 4. Yeah, the highest grade.Whoop. He did say that that’s what they are doing for now, and I have no idea if they downgrade this kinda thing at different points.

In a nutshell, I’m non the wiser as to how long there is.

Sunday

An average night of sleep; woke up sweating about 0400, but put that down more to having the storage heater and a duvet on. I was still alive this morning, so it can’t have been anything too exciting, could it.

Joe unexpectedly arrived not long before Carrie & Jean, which was a nice surprise- still pretty much regurgitating the same things when people ask, but that’s what will happen, short of me taking out an worldwide memo. As long as the people I care for care for me,it’s no hardship.

None of the tablets are having any external effect that I can see, the tightness in my stomach is about the only thing, but I can check that tomorrow.

I need to sleep/nap, but my eyes won’t drop off; chances are it will creep up without warning soon. I hope.

So very tired

It’s not like I’m doing that much- waking up earlier than I possibily normally would excepted, but I feel so drained. I’m normally tired anyway, but this is more that ‘need to sleep, but can’t drop off’. The kind where eyes feel heavy but don’t know what to do.

It’s something that can be questioned on Monday too- but chances are it will just be a case of ‘sleep more!’

Both Zenon and Slater popped round today, different times, but nice to see them- It may get a little samey telling the same things to different people, but at least they (show signs of!!) care. Pretty much everyone I know who would be bothered knows- at least I’ve tried. If they can’t text back with anything, I’ve done my bit, I’m not going to spoonfeed them if they are like that!!

Day 1..ish

Well, there won’t be any pictures of the food I’m eating, coffee I’m drinking or other stuff we all do but for some reason there’s a need to share it with EVERY person who wants to look. Hell, it only encourages them, stop looking!

In a nutshell, while I can still just about type, here are the adventures of Clive, a fortnight ago I was told he was in there and could be a result of previous radiotherapy treatment. See Alanis THAT’S irony, not fucking rain when you do your washing.

Yesterday, I was told this was pretty much the case, so the fortnight of wondering if they had got it wrong was, well, wrong. It’s in-operable, so they don’t want to poke around the thallamus (where it is, and no, I can’t be arsed getting the right spelling, if it’s wrong) for fear of leaving me a vegetable with no life. They have stuck me on chemo tablets for 21 days, with a counter full of steroids/anti sickness pills too. This is the plan until radiotherapy in about a months time. Any news, I’ll add it here, not that you will see it!

Oh, by the way…Clive is the name of this tumour, hence the name of it. He joins Fred in my comfy and spacious head.