"Laura, help me cut the grass?" "Dad, I'm ill."
"Mum, whats 7+3" "Has the chemo destroyed your braincells too?" "Yes."
My parent's aren't hugely keen. It's just an excuse to be lazy. HELLO, CANCER OVER HERE. But no, just because you're ill doesn't mean people do what you say and you get what you want, not at all. But of course people will generally be nicer and gentler around you, and sometimes that's just what you need. But you can't become a little brat, you just need to be treated normally. (this doesn't apply to you, mum and dad.)
I'm not kidding with the second one though, my brain has literally turned to jelly, guess that'll be the chemo brain kicking in then eh? But I don't do it seriously, just jokingly. Although many of my sentences start off with "Mum, can you..." Usually ending in "Mum, can you get me ______ from the kitchen?" Which wouldn't happen if I was allowed in the kitchen. Silly health and safety. I mean, c'mon, I'm not going to drown myself refilling my water jug, I'm not that clumsy.
Although, one of the side rails of my bed is up at the moment, not necessarily in case i fall out, mainly to haul myself into a seated position in bed, where I have spent the entire day watching music channels. I've probably quadrupled the number of music videos I've ever seen today. The video for 'On the Floor' has probably been on about 4 times in the past hour and 'Party Rock Anthem' about 8. My nurse, Kayleigh has actually said that every time she hears the song she thinks of me because every time she's in my room it's playing! After pointing out to my mum that J-Lo is actually only 4 years younger than her, my mum decided that actually, they were long lost sisters and they looked just alike. She then refused to go and get my dose of Petits Filous until I agreed with her. So here I am, on public internet, announcing that actually, my mother is the spitting image of the beautiful Jennifer Lopez.
Bruno Mars' new song 'The Lazy Song' really describes my life right now. I mean, (obviously, if you cancel out the cancer...and the amazing sex bit doesn't really apply) but it's describing my constant mood. If you swap the dancing monkeys (amazing, I know) for a baby ducks, it really is just the Life of Gibson. I say ducks because, with my hair (if you could call it that) in it's current state (my wonderful play nurse Helen took the clippers to it on Monday, I now have like..fuzz), I feel I look like a baby duck. Very seasonal of me, i know. So a baby duck with J-Lo as it's mother. Odd huh?
Another TV comment, I've recently noticed the interesting song choice that some adverts seem to be rocking recently. For example, the song in the KFC advert, not only is it completely irrelevant and unrealistic- (who has a full on neighbourhood BBQ with KFC?! Pfft cheapskates) is one you'd expect to find in an advert for starving children in Africa or a Cancer Research advert. I'm pretty sure the current Cancer Research adverts are actually more cheery!
Anyway, on a completely different note, I met the girl who was staying in the room next door to me last night. Her name is Stacey and she is amazing. She went through a tough three years of treatment for Leukaemia which finished in June and as a result of the steroids she was taking as part of the chemo, her hip completely crumbled and she's needing a hip replacement and compression in the other. It just shows you that even when you're given the all clear, the cancer stays with you for the rest of your life, even in the way that you'll look at life differently and appreciate the little things in life, maybe more than someone who's not gone through what we do. There's only a couple of possible side affects of my cancer that scare me a little. The first is that having Lymphoma increases your chances of getting Leukaemia, which would be an absolute nightmare! (fingers and toes crossed that one skips me!) and the other is due to the 80% chance that I'll need Radiotherapy after my chemo, there's a chance I could become infertile. Which is a fear many women have. I got a strip of eggs removed to be preserved as part of a trial, so I can still have kids if I want them, which is such a relief. Stacey made the point that when people talk about cancer, it's a scary word, and they assume it's all sick people and ending in death. No one really thinks about the survivors. (If anyone's wanting a real insight to chemo/general cancer, then I do not recommend you watch My Sister's Keeper.) Of course, it can be and is horrible. I wouldn't wish it upon anyone in a zillion years. But, I'm now a sixth of my way through my treatment (AWOOO) and not once have I been sick or had that 'I'd rather be dead' thought. Yeah, I've felt really horrible and just wanted to snuggle up in bed and stay there all day, but it's no where near as bad as I'd imagined. But that's me and the way my body is dealing with it, I'm sure other people and other cancer's are very different.
I'd like to apologise, firstly for the state of my blog tonight. I had fully written one which I was pleased with and just before publishing, I stupidly deleted it, thinking I was deleting a picture. So I became grumpy and forgot what I'd written. And secondly for my impersonal, boring pictures. The only pictures I'd taken today were of me before theatre, and since I hasn't written about theatre, thought they'd be irrelevant and pointless. So instead I've blessed you with a picture of a duck and the only picture of My Sister's Keeper where there's smiles. HIP HIP HORRAY. Believe me, I smile a lot more, my nurses actually think I smile too much. There is no such thing.
PS. 'Every day, they been shufflin'. Monday shuffle. Tuesday shuffle. Everybody. The whole world. Everything. It'll get in yo' bones.' too right it gets in you bones, sure is in my bones.
So this is the part where I'd be really gay and say 'you know you love me. xoxo gosspigirl.' but I decided against it to save my social image. PFFT social is a word thrown out my dictionary.
xoxo giibsongirl HAWHAW.
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