Sep 11, round 5, get a grip

Back on the ward, another dose of poison. Die damn cancer cells, just fuck off. Luckily for me, I didn't have a breakdown again this week. Even when the oncologist told me that the Sydney research group informed that there wasn't enough tissue (from that liver biopsy) to do the genetic testing after all. Of course there wasn't. Why would I get a break? I mean seriously, did I expect any other outcome? So, back to routine chemotherapy. Goodo. Although, he dangled the possibility of blood DNA harvesting later down the track. Yeah, whatever. One by one my hopes crumble. The curse strikes again. Fuck it. 

My nurse today had a tattoo on her arm, in Elvish, "not all those who wander are lost" I could dwell on that I suppose...

I imagine I should be thankful I am not attending PeterMac in the city. Big protest today, I wouldn't be able to get in. The catalyst this time is an some arms expo I believe. Supposed to be non violent but they are throwing rocks and horse shit at police. Different definition of non violent than the one I learnt. I remember going to anti nuclear demonstrations when I was at Uni (nuclear war threat in the 80s during the cold war) with my radical friend Jen. The crowd filled the entire length of Bourke Street, from parliament to Spencer Street, but it was like a carnival, everyone singing and dancing, banter with the shoppers and police looking on and smiling with us. I don't recall anyone throwing any shit at anyone. Clearly a different mindset now, just out to cause trouble whatever the cause...

My weapon of protest - the peace badge of the "People for Nuclear Disarmament"

 

Anyway, enough of that, I am determined to live life normally. This morning for example, before going to hospital, I was up the ladder cleaning out my gutters in case today's forecast thunderstorms arrive. Yesterday I was planting and repotting in the garden, feeling silly wearing a mask, but you know, Legionella and no white blood cells is not a good combination...I go to the shops for short trips as needed (again, masked up - I cough loudly if people stare because screw them), I rest in the afternoon, either gaming, reading or Netflix in the evening. Interspersed with the usual chores (which take longer because of fatigue and rest breaks) Twice a week exercising and lecture at the Wellness Centre, most days lunch at my parents, doing chores for them, getting them to appointments. That's my life now. Boring. But still breathing, yes? Do I miss work? Not really. Do I miss the people? Hell yeah. But some come visit, and that really lifts my spirits.

Somehow I scored yellow clivias!
Weirdness pervades me, perhaps I am a warp-in from another dimension?