"Cancer is a word, not a sentence."

"Cancer is a word, not a sentence." John Diamond.

"If you're going through Hell, keep going." Winston Churchill.

I was searching the web yesterday for quotes, as my nerdzilla side came out...and I found these wonderful quotes! And I also found this wonderfully charming quote, which reminded me slightly of my own wonderful Christopher Hingston:

"My veins are filled, once a week with a Neapolitan carpet cleaner distilled from the Adriatic and I am bald as an egg. However I still get around and am mean to cats." John Cheever, 1982.

That one's my particular favourite...although I have no idea why anyone would want to be mean to cats! And I'm sure my friend Matt would agree. I don't know which he loves more: cats ears or his girlfriend, Laura...hehe.
Unless they were a horrible, mean breed of cats...or a mean and ugly breed of cats. But I haven't come across an entire breed of ugly, mean cats yet. Maybe this John Cheever fellow had some sort of traumatic experience with cats when he was a kid or something...who knows?
Anyhow, I'm now back on chemo. The first chemo day was awful, and I threw up violently. Which was actually quite surprising- as I haven't thrown up cos of that since...well- since the first cycle! But then the vomiting ebbed into severe nausea (which was worse, in a way) but now it's just a dull nauseous ache in my head and tummy. Not pleasant, but I can deal.
And of course, the joint and muscle pain is starting up again. Especially in my back and knees. As usual. The physiotherapist at Addenbrookes, Laura, has given me some physio exercises to do at home. I don't do them as often as I should, and Mum gets a little cross at times because I'm not helping myself- but I'm so tired...and this procarbazine chemo they have me on MUST be messing with my hormones as the mood swings are ridiculous. I'm okay one minute, then I'm knackered, then I'm weeping uncontrollably the next moment. Which, I guess, could be my mental health breaking down- but I doubt it, as I haven't tried to harm myself yet...haha. Not that the cancer and the chemo isn't doing enough of that for me! But, yeah. So, making little jokes like that help...as you might have guessed. Being sarcastic and snappy helps too. Not other people, of course. But it helps me. God, that sounds so selfish- doesnt it? Sorry.
Singing helps, too. I like to sing...especially when I can relate to the lyrics, or when I particularly like the lyrics. I don't know whether I can actually sing...or whether I'm rubbish- but, to be honest, I don't really care. I love singing, and it makes me feel good. Sure, after a while, it hurts- cos the chemos messed up my throat, but it makes me feel amazing for a brief amount of time...and that's GREAT. I don't care that I feel crappy for a while if I sing. And sure, it won't get rid of my anxieties, and I can't constantly sing to make myself feel good all the time. But it's a start. It's a start...
Anyhow, I have to go now...but I just wanted to share one more quote I found. I was actually amazed that I found a quote that matched my mood a bit! Anyhow...happy learning, my children!

"Some days there won't be a song in your heart. Sing anyway." Emory Austin.

Much love!!
Befuddled and singing to herself Baldy <3 xox