I\u2019m dictating this to Arthur who continues to occupy the Eric Fenby role. What a shame that I don\u2019t have some early 20th century pastoral melodies to communicate to him, instead I will try to appease my guilt at the scarcity of communication with all my dear friends and family. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
It\u2019s not that I don\u2019t want you to visit, it\u2019s that I really don\u2019t want you to visit. And the reason is pathetic. For me to communicate effectively with someone for even a minute or so is exhausting and really unrewarding. Apparently this is not unusual in cases of cancer, in fact for those of you thinking that dying of cancer is about enduring pain it seems this is not the mainstream path off the planet. Instead it\u2019s a painless sapping away of strength (at least that\u2019s what I hope). <\/p>\n\n\n\n
I\u2019ve decided to continue to be in what I hope was the spirit of the blog: brutally honest. So let me describe an average day – I can be fairly confident this is average because they are all very similar. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Like Dad\u2019s much prized gargoyles at the Guildhall, I wake up with the grumpiest face imaginable. I seem to be unable to twist my face into a smile, achieving at best a grim grimace. That is unimpeded by my front set of crowns that fell away before all this kicked off, so I look like a ummm I look like farmer bean from fantastic mr fox, designed to scare children to death. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
This demeanour is pretty well permanent all day, broken by some occasional nudging to find something smile-making that just occasionally hits the spot. The five people that surround me with love must grow so weary of this behuddled figure wrapped in blankets in what appears to be eternal misery. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
But there is a light shining, this appearance is much worse than its reality. I look dreadful but much of the time, when not under any pressure to exhibit positivity, I feel quite at ease, something I haven\u2019t been able to communicate effectively to my beloved five who must believe me to be in permanent existential hell. The truth is I just look that way. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Hence that is why I don\u2019t want to see anyone – it\u2019s certainly not I don\u2019t love you all or care about your feelings, it\u2019s just that I think you will go away with the impression that I am suffering much more than I really am. I was going to talk about the rest of the day but nothing much changes. I do battle with six small doses of Complan banana flavour, which are accompanied by six dips toward a reconstituted cardboard sick bowl. I\u2019m encouraged to drink quite large amounts of liquid, I like lime cordial because bizarrely water tastes salty, other than that nothing edible or drinkable is currently getting past the cardboard gatekeeper. I watch a little TV. However undemanding the TV is I seem to find it demanding and can only concentrate for a short while. I don\u2019t read more than a few headlines for reasons already stated, perhaps saddest of all my devoted ginger cat does not get the attention he craves as he makes me too hot.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The care team and the nurses are really doing their very best to see if they can break through the food, nausea, mood, sleep impasse, and I haven\u2019t given up hope. So you never know I may be hosting a bumper party yet. But meanwhile I hope this puts your mind at rest that you\u2019re not hated and abandoned just simply too tiring to contemplate having around. As ever I want to round off by saying if it wasn\u2019t for my five, you wouldn\u2019t be receiving this because I would have packed my bags and long since gone. I\u2019m not strong, I\u2019m not a cheeky chappie, I\u2019m not funny, clever or philosophical – but thankfully I am loved (Maria just whispered \u2018are you sure about that?\u2019). <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I\u2019m dictating this to Arthur who continues to occupy the Eric Fenby role. What a shame that I don\u2019t have some early 20th century pastoral melodies to communicate to him, instead I will try to appease my guilt at the scarcity of communication with all my dear friends and family. It\u2019s not that I don\u2019t […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-3649","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-everything-else"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/gravityisahat.co.uk\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3649","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/gravityisahat.co.uk\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/gravityisahat.co.uk\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gravityisahat.co.uk\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gravityisahat.co.uk\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=3649"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/gravityisahat.co.uk\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3649\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3650,"href":"https:\/\/gravityisahat.co.uk\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3649\/revisions\/3650"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/gravityisahat.co.uk\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=3649"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gravityisahat.co.uk\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=3649"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gravityisahat.co.uk\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=3649"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}