So I was going to do my top ten “foot in mouth” moments and I started it but although I laughed a bit, ultimately it seemed mean.  Some people inherently get it right, some are a little more clumsy.  Their thoughts are all sincere though so how churlish is it to take the mickey?

So you’re not disappointed however, here’s a doozy of mine.  I’ve been merrily telling younger blood relatives “I’ll be fine, think of the genes!”  By which I mean the tenacious Northern stock I come from but come to think of it that comment from an older blood relative with ARSE cancer is likely to leave them with an expression like “The Scream”.  Ladies, you know who you are, I apologise!

So the last couple of days has been quite strange as the nasty effects of the chemo wear off.  My mouth feels like it belongs to me again.  To explain; the chemo’s job is to kill rapidly dividing cells and it does it extremely efficiently (we hope) but it’s a bit rubbish at being selective. 

 I imagine it as a bit of a well meaning thug. Let’s call him Vinnie.  “Chemo we’d like you to go in and kill all the cancer cells …” “OK Boss I’ll kill all da rapidly dividing cells.” “…but not the good ones like the ones in the mouth though Vinnie ..I said NOT the, oh, he’s gone and I’m not sure he heard the last bit.”

The result is strange.  The taste buds that have savoured steak and chips, fine wines and, in one instance the most mind blowing lavender creme brule disappear and you’re left with the basic hole in your face that takes fuel for your body in.  Except it’s so painful because of the blisters that the fuel is, in my case, Heinz Tomato soup and icepops.

Anyhow, it goes, along with the other side effects and you wake up one morning feeling relatively ok with no cumbersome chemo pump in your arm and for a split second you forget.  It’s a bit tough when you remember I’ll be honest.

So bring on the crap side effects I say! My next FINAL course of chemo starts two weeks today.  In the meantime good old Radiotherapy is making a sterling effort to remind me by giving me the worse case of nappy rash I’ve had since 1961.  Again, I personify Radiotherapy as a ver’ precise Cherman scientist named Professor Zappy.  “You vant me to destroy ze tumour?” “Yes but don’t damage the surrounding skin because ….. oh he’s gone.  He probably heard me though eh?”

Thanks for reading.  Thanks also for all your lovely comments.  They mean so much – but you know it only encourages me.  Til next time.