Living My Life

It's been a while since I've blogged and I can only put that down to the fact that I am back living my life and I see that as a positive.  Rather than sitting at home watching chick flicks and blogging about life I'm out there living - you could say that I am the leading lady in my own Chick Flick.

For those of you who read my blog you will know that it is just over 12 months since I was diagnosed with breast cancer and underwent surgery etc. etc.  Well, 12 months on and my mammogram was clear which was a massive relief for me. 

I try not to even think about BC now but part of my treatment is hormone therapy which involves taking a tablet (Tamoxofin) every day.  I HATE IT!!!!  I have been thrown head-first into menopause.  What a shock.  Firstly, let me apologise to all those women who I didn't truly believe when they said how horrific hot flushes and night sweats are.

The day-time hot flushes are bad enough but the night sweats are indescribable.  I find myself going to bed when it is only 10 degrees with the ceiling fan going and a heavy-duty doona.  I find it is easier to just flick the doona off and then cool off under the fan when the sweats come.  I'm forever washing sheets and pillow cases and frankly, I'm going to have to get disposable pillows.

The other not so glamorous side of menopause (or maybe the Tamoxofin) is the increase in facial hair.  What the hell is that about.  Is it because women on Tamoxofin probably went through chemotherapy and lost their hair some divine being thinks we need to make up for that? 

Still, I'm alive to tell the story so I shouldn't whinge too much but if somebody has some great ideas on how to get rid of facial hair then I'm happy to hear about it.

The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel

I can't remember how long it's been since I went to the movies.  I am guessing it was to see Mama Mia which, by the way, I'm revisiting tonight on DVD.  Pierce Brosnan really is a sexy guy I think.  That's got nothing to do with what I'm blogging about but I thought I'd throw it in anyway for discussion.
Today I went to see The Exotic Marigold Hotel and I loved it.  I laughed and cried throughout and have come away wanting to be Judy Dench when I get older - I'm probably nearly there so I don't have much time to wait.  In the movie she even had her own blog site - already we have a lot in common apart from very short hair.

She is a brilliant and natural actress and played an amazing character, Evelyn, in the movie.  She was vulnerable and smart and incredibly brave and not scared to show emotion and by the end of the movie I felt so proud of what she'd achieved and that's what I want my friends and family to feel about me.  Pride.

Over the last 18 monhs, I've had so much change in my life I sometimes don't know which way is up but today's movie made me realise that life is forever changing and you need to go along with it and enjoy the ride but more importantly embrace the changes and the challenges it brings.

Although change when it happens can be stressful I think being scared that things won't change is even more frightening.

A major premise of the movie was, "It will all work out in the end and if it doesn't then it's not the end." 

MELT DOWN

We talk about having a melt-down like it is a bad thing but having recently had what I consider to be a serious melt-down I now think it is a good thing.  I've bounced back a little stronger with a new purpose and vigour in my life.

Think of melting down chocolate - what do you get?  Ganache.  What could be nicer?  You take something perfectly good, melt it down add a few minor ingredients and you get something better and way more versatile.  You can use it for icing, filling, decorating etc. etc.  Without a melt-down it would still be "just chocolate".

With a personal melt-down, you go crazy - nothing makes sense, you become paranoid, you cry a river of tears, listen to really sad country music, cry even more and drink a little too much alcohol - OK, drink way too much alcohol,  Then, if you are lucky, you get to meet with your girl friends and enjoy fabulous Thai food for dinner, drink a little champagne and they reassure you that you are great and doing really well. You then give yourself a serious talking to and promise to get your life back on track, eat healthy food and stop drinking alcohol, promise to ring up about those guitar lessons.  Voila, a melt down with a few added extras and you have come out the other side a better and stronger person.

What about aluminium - an amazingly strong metal and it comes from melting-down bauxite.  Well, I think that's how it's made anyway. I am sure it a little more complex than that but as this is my blog I have editorial licence.   Without melt-downs we wouldn't have discovered aluminium which is used to make all sorts of stuff, i.e. drink cans, aluminium foil etc. etc.

When glass melts down, you can create amazing art and glass sculptures.  Without a melt-down, all you have is boring old glass ...

Without melt-downs, we would all just stay the same.  We wouldn't be re-inventing ourselves to grow and develop.  A melt-down makes you stop and question, makes you ask how you can improve and be stronger.

Next time I am looking down the barrel of a melt-down, I shall embrace it and use it to toughen up.

HOW HARD CAN IT BE TO BUY A NEW CAR?

Ladies,  imagine going into a dress shop and asking “how much is this and do you have it in size 12?” and being told it depends on whether you are prepared to commit to buying it before they can give you a price.  Seriously, you would laugh and think they were joking.

It appears that this is what happens when buying a new car.  It is a very different ball-game and all the shopping rules that I’ve been brought up with have been thrown out the window.  I’m not sure over the last week if I’ve been trying to buy a car or force somebody to sell me one. 

Shoes always have the price clearly marked on them so you know if you can afford them or not.  Even in the supermarkets they clearly have the price of goods marked and even tell you how much per 100g the item costs so you can easily compare and this is for all items – regardless of how expensive they are. 

It’s not that I have anything against “haggling” but surely you need a starting point before you can begin the haggling process.   You know how it goes – Monty Python style - “Fifty bucks for this, you must be mad, I’ll give you forty-five.” 

It’s not that buying a car is an auction style affair where you just wander in and offer the first number that comes into your head and see what happens.  Actually, that sounds like my next step.  I might just go in and say I’d like this car with mats, cruise control, head-light protectors, bonnet protector, spare tyre (that’s not a joke – it’s hard to believe it’s an optional extra on some cars!) and I’m willing to give a $3000 changeover.   Maybe we would see how quickly they’d start talking dollars.

I started out looking forward to buying a new car and I thought it would be a simple matter of picking my favourites, test driving them, getting a valuation on my trade-in and coming away with a changeover figure.   I could then compare the cars I liked best and make a decision. If only it was that simple!  Two visits to two major car dealers and I still didn’t know how much either of the cars would cost me.  I would like to think they were trying to con me because I was a woman but I don’t even think that’s the case.  They seem to do it to everybody. 

If all firms played by these rules, people would be going through the supermarket check-out with no idea how much their weekly groceries would cost until they’d committed to purchase them.  People would be outraged and it wouldn’t be allowed to happen.

Fuel companies have to advertise clearly how much per litre they are charging for fuel – you don’t go and fill-up and then ask how much it will cost you.  You know up front before you commit to purchasing. 

For some reason, the price of cars must be kept a big secret until you are committed to purchase.  Surely people have the right to get prices and compare.

I was told by one salesperson that they didn’t want to lose my business because of price.  PRICE!! If only they would have given me a price.  I told them they would lose my business because they were doing my head in and left. 

Do they honestly think that this tactic is going to work?  Who would be stupid enough to commit to buying a car before knowing how much it will cost them?  They can sit me down, suck up to me, offer coffee and tell me they are there to help me but it is not going to make me fork over my hard-earned money without knowing the bottom line.   In fact, offering me road-side assist when I’m already in RACQ is probably not a massive big selling point and nor is having a courtesy car when mine is being serviced.  I would have thought one of the best selling points would be giving the prospective buyer a price so they could make a decision. 

It’s not “rocket science” – it is selling a bloody car and it should be a simple and enjoyable experience for the buyer, not an exercise in frustration. 

Playing Tourist

With visitors up from Victoria, I find myself playing tourist in my home town.  Relucantly, although I didn't let on because I didn't want them to think I didn't care about endangered species, I went off to see the turtles at Mon Repos.  My first surprise was that we weren't the only people there.  There were hundreds of people queing to see the turtles laying their eggs or the hatchlings making their way back into the ocean.  Who would have thought? 

The tourist guide told us way too often that turtles were wild animals and that we had to fit in with their timetable, not the other way around.  Personally I think somebody needs to have a word with the turtles.  Because of the huge number of people keen to see the turtles, we were in Group 3.  Again, the guide told us that if there was any activity on the beach we would be ushered down in groups. 

Bloody Group 1 got their call up within minutes of the gate opening.  Group 2 had to sit around for another good hour before getting "the call".  The rest of us were left to entertain ourselves in the ampitheatre in the semi-darkness.  After about an hour, I'd read everything there was to know about turtles, studied their skeletons etc. etc.  You could pretty much call me a turtle expert now.  We were actually doing turtle impersonations for each other - just in case we didn't get "the call" that's how sad it was.

Just as I was losing the will to live, Group 3 got "the call".  Yelling "Bingo" we lept to our feet and headed to the beach with our guide.  Apparently, there were a number of loggerhead turtle hatchlings ready to make their way into the wild and we were to witness this journey first hand.

All of a sudden I started to get a little bit excited as well as a bit sad.  Having become an instant turtle expert I knew that only 1 in a 1000 of these hatchlings was going to make it to adulthood.  Our group got to OOH & AAH over the tiny turtles before we built the "tunnel of light" to guide the little hatchlings into the ocean to begin their journey, or in most cases, get scoffed down by the first preadator that is bigger than it.  Let me tell you, they are very small so most things in the ocean are bigger than they are so you work it out!

Of course I didn't have a torch otherwise I could have been one of the lucky ones who got to form the tunnel of light and have the little ninja turtles scurrying betwen their legs and over their feet.  They looked so cute and as they bravely went into the ocean I shed a tear for them and thought how lucky I was to be able to bid these brave and magnificent animals farewell as they began their journey. 

I felt a little like a wildlife warrior and was so glad I stayed to watch the beauty of the little loggerhead turtle head off into the world against all odds.  I need to take a lesson from these little ninja turtles.  Like us, they don't know exactly what is out there in the world to harm them but they still bravely march off down the beach - they don't stay lurking on the sidelines of life, too scared to give it a 'shot'.

You go turtles ....

No point looking back

In trying to move forward, can you bring back the past and the things that used to make you happy?

Some things work and some things don't but I think you have to be careful not to expect too much.  Don't set your expectations too high because you could be setting yourself up for disappointment.  A friend of mine, and avid fan of The Sullivans, is revisiting her teens by watching the entire series of The Sullivans only to find that it's not as good as the memories of The Sullivans. 

Perhaps we are best to keep our memories in the background and pull them out from time to time like old photos and think, "those were the days, my friend". 

Something I loved to do as a kid was go to the show and eat dagwood dogs and creamy waffles.  When I revisited this as an adult I was sorely disappointed.  They were greasy and disgusting and I ended up with tomato sauce all over my clothes and felt a bit nauseous so, remember, not all past experiences are going to bring back the euphoria of youth.  Unlike boogie boarding - now that is something worth revisiting.

I recently went snorkelling at Lady Musgrave Island which was something I was keen to do when I moved back to Queensland.  I remembered it as being fantastic but, sadly, I came away a bit disappointed.  In my mind I'd blown it out of all proportion thus setting myself up for disappointment.  Maybe it had to do with the incredibly rough trip out there on the boat where I was only one swell away from throwing up!!  Don't get me wrong, it was nice but nowhere near what I remembered it to be.  As you can see from the photo - it is a beautiful island and the waters of the lagoon cover every shade of blue.  In fact, it is that turquoise blue that I've been looking for in a doona cover.  Obviously, my trip there wasn't wasted.

Even some movies that you remember watching when you were younger sometimes lose their gloss -obviously not "When Harry Met Sally" because that is a classic but many others don't give you that same buzz you once got.

Just like Vintage clothing, some things should be left in the past and looked back on fondly. 

How do I like my eggs?

Am I Julia Roberts in "Runaway Bride"?  I have the freedom to be anybody I want to be but, in the immortal words of Janis Joplin,  "Freedom's just another word for nothing left to lose".

Twelve months ago, the life I had and was happy with disintegrated and I've been to hell and back and am now in the re-building phase.  As I was talking to my psychologist yesterday (thank God for her or there wouldn't be much re-building happening - there would only be crumbled foundations!) it occurred to me that my life is somewhat of a chiche.  I found myself saying things like, "I am a kinder and more compassionate person now",  "Time helps heal", "Need to find the passion", "Life is too short", etc. etc.  I sounded like a self-help book.

Back to Julia Roberts in "Runaway Bride" ...  I am on a journey to find out how I like my eggs. 

Up to now I've often gone along with my partner's passion and now I need to re-kindle my own likes and interests.  As yet, I've not tried sky-diving or bungee jumping - who knows, that could end up on my list. 

I did go back boogie boarding recently and it was fantastic.  There is boogie-boarding after breast cancer which is good so that is definitely something I will continue to pursue.  My kayak finally hit water so that's another pursuit I shall continue with.  In fact, we are talking about an all-girl's camping and kayaking trip which could be interesting.  I shall keep you informed on how that pans out.  I have a swag so I don't need to pitch a tent but I have a feeling we could end up in luxury cabins by a dam somewhere sipping champagne on the verandah as the sun goes down.  Actually, the latter sounds a little more how I like me eggs...

I am going to be joining a Lions Club which I'm looking forward to getting involved with.  It will be nice to do some fund-raising and helping out in the community.  It's been years since I've done that and it was always something I loved to do when I was in my twenties.  I had so much support from people when I was undergoing treatment that I want to be able to "give something back" and I think this will help me to do that. 

So, things are slowly moving on for me and this next year is all about finding Debra.  I've no doubt there will be some pitfalls along the way but, as the saying goes, "Life is about the journey, not the destination". 

So many sayings and cliches and so little time.

Sunshine State

Well, it was too good to last.  The sun has stopped shining and the rains are here!  The temperature has dropped dramatically and I suspect I will need to buy a coat for the dog.  No sooner had I blogged about the sun and the heavens opened.

On the positive side though my tank is now full.  I've become obsessed with having water in the tank and it has been empty for a couple of weeks so the past few days I've been out there knocking on the side of it to see if I could tell where the water-level is.  Why don't tank designers just automatically put a little viewing thingie on the side so you know if you have water or not.  Probably invented by a guy I'd say.  Anyway, when I went out this morning it was overflowing so I've switched everything back to tank water, i.e. washing machine, toilets, hoses so I feel very virtuous now by conserving water.

I am getting very excited about going back to work next week.  It has been nearly 12 months since I've worked and I am looking forward to focusing on things other than ME.    I am forcing myself to watch snippets of the news and current affair programs as I make my transformation back into the real world.  Don't get me wrong, I'm still getting my fill of Love Boat, Brady Bunch, Golden Girls, Big Bang Theory and of course, Happy Days.  Fortunately, my hours of work will still allow me to watch some of these old time favourites but some will have to go so this week I'm weaning myself off them so the loss isn't too great.

The other good reason for going back to work is that I've started baking cookies.  I'm not sure I've done that before and from scratch, not out of a packet.  Just call me the Domestic Goddess.  I made Anzac biscuits and jam drops and today I'm getting ready to make Gingerbread men for Christmas.

Anyway, must run as Love Boat has already started.

I'm officially a Queenslander

Well, my transformation from Victorian to Queenslander is complete.

Not only do I own two pair of rubber thongs and have a bit of a tan happening but my number plates remind me that I am part of the Sunshine State.  The transformation became complete yesterday when I registered my car in Queensland and collected my new number plates and, for some strange reason, all I could do was cry.  It felt like I was betraying my Victorian family and friends.  I know that sounds crazy, but this is my blog site and I'll cry if I want to.

That 'Sunshine State' is certainly living up to its reputation at the moment.  It is really hot here and I am taking a while to get used to the heat and humidity.  I go to aqua aerobics a couple of times a week because it is way too hot to do any other form of exercise at the moment. 

I even relented and got the dog clipped - he was not a happy puppy I can tell you.  When I brought him home from the groomers he hid out in the spare bedroom for the remainder of the day and for the first few days walks had to be taken under cover of darkness.  However, he is now accustomed to it and I think he realises I did it for his own good and he is no longer sprawled out on the tiles panting although the above photo would contradict this.  Most people have seen him now and have stopped laughing at him so that is probably helping his self-esteem.  The last thing I need is to have to put the dog in therapy!  Since the dog has been clipped, my vacuum cleaner has been having a well-earned rest.  The house isn't filled with swirling dog hair and I'd forgotten what that was like.  Just for the record, even the dog is now registered in Queensland.  As I said, the transformation from Victorian to Queenslander is officially complete.

Crikey - went to Australia Zoo

I know it wasn't on my 'gunnado' list but I went to Australia Zoo last week-end and I am sad to say that it was the first time I'd been.  It was fantastic and I felt a bit like a kid again feeding the elephants, cheering in the crocoseum and patting the kangaroos and koalas. 

I did, however, say I wanted to take plenty of photographs while I was in Brisbane and I certainly did that at Australia Zoo!  I was clicking away like a woman possessed.  What did we do before digital cameras?  I take hundreds now because then I've got a good chance of getting one or two brilliant memories.

Lately I've been thinking about 'passion' and I'm not sure I've ever had a great passion for any particular hobby or cause.  That's not to say I've not had an interest in things because I've tried plenty of different activities and enjoyed them but I've not had that burning desire to keep on doing any one in particular.  Alan had a passion for fishing and he lived and breathed it and I envied him that and now I wish I had a passion for something. Am I too old I wonder to get that?  I really hope not. 

Perhaps I need to live life a little more on the edge and try a lot more things to see if something sparks the passion.  I had been thinking of going back to scuba diving - something I did a lot of in my twenties and really enjoyed.  I have my kayak which is yet to hit the water and for those of you who have read my earlier blogs, I do love to boogie-board.  Fortunately the weather is now getting warm enough for me to start indulging in some of these summer activities so who knows, I might just spark a passion for one of them.

Being at Australia Zoo and seeing Steve Irwin's passion come to life really highlighted my lack of 'passion' for something.  I can pretty much tell you that my passion isn't going to be knitting or playing the guitar - both 'gunnado' items dropping fairly quickly on my list over the last six weeks.  If I'd had a true passion for them surely I'd have found the time to do more of them ...

Anyway, I am into my final two days of radiotherapy in Brisbane and will be back home this week-end and I am looking forward to getting Chewie back with me permanently and beginning the next chapter of my new life.  Who knows what it will hold but I have to remember not to become too complacent and try and live my life more actively and passionately and take the odd risk along the way because as the old cliche goes, 'life isn't a dress rehearsal'.

I think I'm becoming a little bit too philosophical with so much time to think about the meaning of life - maybe I'm spending too much time in the self-help section of the library and book-shops and think I may need to move into the 'Action' section.

 

Radiotherapy Update

Well, I'm already approaching my third week of radiotherapy and so far so good.  I've not been burnt to a crisp yet but it may be worthwhile buying shares in the Sorbolene company I'm using because I am now buying it by the litre - there is no need to muck around with those 250ml tubes.

The 'gunnado' list hasn't got too many ticks against it yet but, surprisingly, I've not been bored as I've had people with me most of the time playing tourist here in Brisbane.  I watched the AFL Grand Final at the Gold Coast casino with a Collingwood supporter so that worked out well, unless of course you are a 'Pies' fan.  I must say, as the match progressed there were more and more Geelong supporters coming out of the wood work, unless of course they were Collingwood supporters jumping ship.

We went on the giant Brisbane Wheel at Southbank which was quite good, admittedly it's not the London Eye but at least they have one that is still standing, unlike Melbourne!  As far as my Thai cooking class goes, I have gone and eaten at the restaurant to ensure that the food is good - I don't want to learn to cook 'dodgy' Thai food.  On the other hand, if it turns out I'm not that good at it I could always blame the cooking school ... good chance I will do that anyway.

Why do we use ... (dot dot dot) when we write I wonder?  It really does leave things up to the reader to interpret but I like it because it can say everything or it can say nothing at all.  Maybe it's a cop out but as the song goes, "You say it best when you say nothing at all".

I'm still knitting and am actually considering something a little more challenging having found a few videos online to show me how to increase and decrease stitches.  I think it's time I moved on from the basic square because life is too short for just squares - you need a few bends and twists along the way so you don't become too staid.  It's time I started challenging myself again - even if it is in the knitting arena.  Unlike other people who are diagnosed with cancer and go on to achieve amazing feats like conquering Mount Everest, starting their own Foundation etc etc.  It does make me sound a bit slack really but a very good friend of mine said that not everybody has to do something amazing, that the World needs cogs in the wheel as well. 

That sounds a bit like a cop out though, maybe we are all meant to achieve something amazing in our life.  If nothing else, getting diagnosed with cancer does make you question life a lot more.  At this stage though I've not got any answers - just questions.

Stage 2 - Radiotherapy

Well, I have begun Stage 2 of my recovery program with my first session of radiotherapy today.  I am not glowing in the dark which is a good thing but I'm guessing by the end of the six weeks I won't need a microwave!

It is such a scary process - like anything I suppose, the first time you have to do something you know nothing about is frightening.  I was like that when I started the chemotherapy - scared out of my wits!  The good thing is though that I survived that and I'm sure I will survive this as well.

The hardest thing is being in Brisbane and away from my new home.  I'd only just started nesting and I had to pack up and leave it all behind. 

I don't believe that the radiotherapy will make me sick - just a bit tired.  Ex chemo patients apparently don't find it too bad.  The chemotherapy obviously toughens us up and we can cope with almost anything - even getting "nucked" - is that how you spell "nucked" - you know what I mean anyway.

It was amazing how many people were there in the oncology day therapy section at Brisbane hospital.  It is so sad to think that so many people are being treated for cancer - I'm definitely not on my own that's for sure.  It does make me continue to ask "Why?"

Anyway, instead of sitting here feeling sorry for myself I need to re-visit my "gunnadoo" list and start planning.  I actually am feeling quite stressed at the moment and a bit tearie  because I am so out of my comfort zone and am not sure what the future holds.  Again, it is that sense of being alone that freaks me out more than the cancer, chemotherapy or radiotherapy. 

On a brighter note though I picked up instalment 4 of "The Art of Knitting" so I will start on my fourth square today and perhaps learn a new stitch or two and enjoy the nice warm weather here in Brisbane.

Gunnado List

When I was working I was a list freak.  I had lists for everything.  My running sheets were legendary amongst my colleagues when organising events and could quite easily run over three pages.

Since I've stopped work, I can barely find a pen and I've given up wearing a watch but I'm beginning to think if I don't start making lists and getting my act together, I'll do nothing but talk about what I'm 'gunnado'. 

As part of my treatment, I need to spend six weeks in Brisbane getting radiotherapy so I've decided to make the most of this time and use it as a health retreat. OK, I know what you are thinking - 'radiotherapy' isn't usually listed as a health treatment at the world's top spa resorts along with Sea Salt Massage and Hot Rock therapy but a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.  I figure if I fill the six weeks up with pleasant things then the actual 'radiotherapy' will take a back-seat.

I thought if I actually put in writing here on my blog site the things I'm 'gunnado', it may well force me to do them (or at least some of them).

• Find a yoga class and go as often as possible
• Learn to meditate
• Do some light weight training
• Take my juicer and invent healthy fruit & vegetable concoctions
• Do a Thai and/or Vegetarian cooking class 
• Walk everyday
• Go on Brisbane's giant ferris wheel at Southbank
• Take a trip on a Brisbane River Cat
• Visit the art gallery (try and put some culture into my life)
• Do a photography course for a day
• Take lots of photos and write
• Keep up my knitting

The knitting is a bit left-field but I'm finding it quite therapeutic although I'm still only knitting squares at the moment. I'm not sure I'll get past the squares actually.  Those knitting patterns look a bit tricky I reckon - especially at the moment when I have the attention span of a gnat.  That's a weird saying isn't it?  How do poeople know that gnats have a short attention span.  It's a bit derogatory to gnats even though I don't really even know what one is - a gnat that is.

It will be interesting to see how many of these things I do during my six-week sabatical. 

Where are all my favourite authors?

I love nothing more than a good "Chick Lit" book but, because I've been reading so much lately, I've read all my favourite author's books.  I wish they'd bloody put out some new ones - don't they know that I need something good to read.  I've been using the library lately in the hope of discovering a new favourite author but so far, NOTHING! 

Some of my favourite "Chick Lit" authors are Maeve Binchy (all time favourite), Cathy Kelly, Marian Keyes and Monica Macinerney so, if by chance any of you are reading this, then can you do me a favour and get writing.  I love your work.

Nothing is nicer than getting a new novel from one of your all time favourite writers, making a hot cup of coffee, curling up in your favourite chair, opening a cherry ripe and starting the journey - meeting the new characters, learning to love (or hate) them and becoming engrossed in their world.  This is Bliss!

On the other hand, nothing is worse than starting on a book that you just can't warm to.  It is so depressing - the coffee and the cherry ripe are fine but I am no longer bothered to read books all the way through if I'm not enjoying it.  If I'm not into it in the first two to three chapters then down it goes. 

Life is too short to read crappy books.  In fact, when I think about it, in my opinion life is too short for a lot of things like:

• Drinking wine from cheap glasses (doesn't matter if the wine is cheap),
• sleeping on less than 500 thread count sheets,
• Eating dried pasta and not making your own (try it, you'll love it and its very therapeutic),
• Drying yourself with rough towels (they have to be soft and fluffy)

If anybody knows any great chick-lit authoris, please let me know.  I'm willing to give any of them a chance with a coffee and cherry ripe.

Final Dose of Chemotherapy

Today is a very auspicious day for me - I had my last round of chemotherapy.  It is very early days yet but I actually feel OK.  I feel a bit flushed but not sick and I enjoyed dinner this evening with all of my taste buds in tact.  What more can I ask for?

As usual, the nurses in the Bundaberg Hospital oncology day ward were nothing but wonderful and presented me with a stunning purple orchid before I left to mark the occasion.  I'll miss the girls up there - I see them every week and have spent hours with them during my treatment days.  They have become a bit of a security blanket for me.  I know that makes me sound a bit needy but during this time they have been the people with all the answers and I've grown to depend on them so much. 

On a more positive note (there is always a silver lining), I have had the PICC line removed from my arm so I can now shower without a plastic bag on my arm and that I can assure you has been a long time coming.  Hopefully, I will be able to sleep on my side tonight and not flat on my back which has been a necessity in recent months.  It's amazing how we take these small things for granted. 

I just realised that I will now be able to go swimming and for those of you have read my earlier blogs, I can get back into my new sexy swimming cossies that I bought to celebrate my sea change to Bundaberg.  Life is getting back on track!!!!  The boogie-boarding may have to wait until the warmer months but I think I can manage the local heated swimming pool. 

Before I do this I may have to invest in a bathing cap because I don't want to be scaring small children with my bald head - actually it has a bit of a fluffy thing happening and looks scarily like a baby orangutan.  For the first time in my life the only body hair problems I've got before donning my bathers is the hair on my head.  Makes a change from shaving, waxing, depilitory creams and bleaching doesn't it?  In hindsight, I will never complain again about hair removal treatments but will gladly embrace them and enjoy the feeling of having body hair ripped from my skin with hot wax because I now know the alternative is far worse. 

The chemotherapy is the first 'therapy' in the line-up with my next challenge being radiotherapy which starts in mid September and goes for six weeks.  In the words of Scarlett O'Hara in 'Gone With The Wind' though, "I shall think about that tomorrow."

For now, I am going to enjoy my time not having to go for Chemotherapy and think about my new townhouse which, if all goes to plan, settles in early September. The move into my own apartment is a big milestone in my journey towards independence and I am getting very excited about this.  It is scary to be doing this on my own without Alan but I know I can do it, I just have to stay strong and focused and learn to ask for help from family and friends.  What I've discovered since moving back to Bundaberg is that my family want, and are happy, to help me so sometimes I have to be a little less independent and accept their assistance.

Iit will be wonderful getting all my own possesions arounds me again and eating what and when I like and watching anything I like on TV, having the dog inside with me, grocery shopping, sleeping in.  On the downside though I will have to do my own washing and ironing.  I guess not every cloud has a silver lining after all!  (Thanks Mum)

Neenish Tart - Always the Bridesmaid, Never the Bride

Having come back to live in Bundaberg after just thirty years it was nice to wander around the central business district to see what shops were still around from my teens.  You can’t imagine my delight when I saw Lushus Cakes.  It just goes to show, you can’t keep a good cake shop down.

The memories came flooding back to me.  As the office junior back in the 1970s my biggest priority of the day was to collect morning tea for the guys in the office.  I know, I know – things were a lot more sexist back then and because I was not only the office junior but a ‘girl’ as well meant we didn’t even bother to draw straws, I was it.

Every day I’d head down to Lushus Cakes with a cardboard box to buy copious quantities of cream buns, cream donuts, cottage pies, sausage rolls, buttered Boston buns, apple turnovers and vanilla slices and the very occasional Neenish tart.   It was obvious that high cholesterol wasn’t a big deal back in the mid 1970s.  It still amazes me how much the guys in that office could devour – just at morning tea!

As I stood looking in the window of Lushus Cakes there sat a lone Neenish tart looking very sad and neglected calling out, ‘pick me, pick me’.  What is it with the Neenish tart?  I think it is the most under-appreciated baked item around.  Is it because it is smaller than a cream bun or a vanilla slice (aka ‘snot block’) and people don’t think they’re getting value for money?  Have people actually tried a Neenish Tart to see just what delicacy lies beneath the elegant icing? 

Within the realms of baked goods, you have competitions for the best pie or the best vanilla slice and this has helped raise their profile.   In the meantime, the poor old Neenish tart is treated like some poor relation, doomed to be left on the shelf when all the more glamorous cakes and tarts have been devoured.

Sadly, the Neenish tart is always the bridesmaid of the cake world and never the bride.

Don’t be lured by the giant calorie-laden, cellulite-generating cakes in the shop window that should come with a year’s gym membership.  Give the Neenish tart a try and I think you will be pleasantly surprised when you crack open the unassuming two-toned icing on top.  Remember, good things come in small packages – just like the small and elegant Neenish tart.

Hair - what hair?

Well, it's finally happened.  My hair is now a distant memory and I've taken to wearing a wig.  At this point, I'm not sure what to do with my eye brows though.  Unfortunately, the left one is disappearing way faster than the right and I suspect I have one ear just slightly higher than the other.  Perhaps this is just to take the focus off being completely bald - just for the record, it's not working.  I'm now walking around with my head slightly tilted.

On the bright side though - there's always a silver lining.  It feels fantastic having a shower and feeling the warm water running over your head.  It feels all tingly and relaxing and I'm loathe to get out of the shower.  The other good thing is my underarm hair is all but gone but my leg hair is hanging on for all its worth - it is putting up a mighty fight so I have to admire them for that.  I need to remember to take a leaf out of their book and keep on fighting. 

In my quest for inner peace and health I have finally gone along to my first yoga class - one of the many things I've been 'gunnado' for years and something I promised I would pursue once I moved to Bundaberg.  I really enjoyed it, although it was difficult for me to do some of the exercises because of my two dodgy arms but the relaxation and meditation sections were fantastic and I am now sorry I didn't learn to do this years ago.  I could have saved a fortune by not watching shopping TV throughout the night!

At first it was hard for me to focus on relaxing and my mind kept skipping to other crucial things like, what am I going to have for lunch?  has my turban twisted around?  does my bum look big in these trackie dacks ..... etc etc.  But, the final relaxation/meditation session just fell into place and I was sorry when we had to come back to life.  I wanted to yell, "NO, LEAVE ME HERE TO SLEEP - DON'T YOU KNOW I HAVEN'T SLEPT SOUNDLY IN YEARS!"

Unfortunately, when I tried the technique on my own at home to try to get to sleep I had no luck.  I suspect I need the background music, soothing voice and tinkling Tibetan bells.  Needless to say, I'll be back there next week if all goes to plan.  Even if it just to have a good 30 minute power nap.

A friend of mine from New Zealand sent me a message which is "Kia Kaha" which means 'stay strong'.  I love the way it sounds and am trying to live the message as well (just like my leg hairs).

Vintage Cars - definitely worth recycling!

Windscreen Wipers – why bother?

Who’d have thought that there are whole clubs dedicated to old cars?  Heaven help you though if you call it an old car ... from now on I shall refer to them as hot rods or classic cars.

As far as I can tell, the one thing they all have in common seems to be their windscreen wipers – or lack thereof.  They either don’t have them, have only one, or they just don’t work at all.

Here I was thinking that the owners didn’t take their cars out in the rain so as not to spoil the duco. Now I know the real reason.  Bloody windscreen wipers don’t work!

I had my first ride in a hot rod just recently so I was quite excited.  I watched a couple of old Happy Days episodes for a refresher course on being ‘cool’.    I’m not sure I could tell you what type of car it was but it was beautifully painted in orange and had luxurious cream leather upholstery.    

Everything was going well until it started to rain so, to overcome the lack of adequate windscreen wipers, the driver sped up.  I am guessing the theory behind this mad stunt was that speed would deflect the water off the windscreen.  Yeah, right!  That might have worked with a modern-day, sloping, aerodynamically designed windscreen but not your straight up and down vertical model. 

Owners of these cars are able to replace entire motors but can’t get the windscreen wipers to work!  Do they not think that’s an important safety feature?  I notice that they put in seat-belts and I’m sure they didn’t come standard in the original versions. 

The windscreen wiper was invented circa 1903 and, just for the record, was invented by a woman, Mary Anderson.   I’m sure the idea came to her when she was travelling with a male partner who, way back then, also thought it was a good idea to speed up to deflect the water.  As the saying goes, “necessity is the mother of invention”.

On the other hand, maybe she invented it one rainy evening  stuck at home, bored to tears baking scones, making cups of tea for her husband and playing parlour games.  She possibly thought, “if only we could go for a drive on this rainy night and I could pay somebody to make me tea and scones and I don’t have to keep pretending to enjoy  playing bridge and charades”.  Next thing you know, cars are fitted with windscreen wipers.   As they say, the rest is history.  We now have coffee shops on every corner, Devonshire teas served in the country and all of this because of Mary Anderson.  I really don’t think she gets as much credit as she deserves. 

Anyway, back to my story.  On arrival at our destination on that fateful rainy night it was all I could do not to fall to my knees and kiss the ground in true Papal style.   If I had my own door, I probably would have but, being a two-door meant I had to wait for the people in front to get out and then I had to manoeuvre my sizeable butt out of the back seat making sure not to trip over the running-board.  This probably looked ‘uncool’ enough without falling to my knees and kissing the bitumen.  Also, never once did I see any of Richie Cunningham’s girls do that.  Mind you, they didn’t go out in the rain either.

It’s a shame that the beautiful cream leather upholstery now has my fingerprints permanently embedded into the back doors. 

Asked would I go again – hell yes!  I will, however, be sure to check the weather forecast.

When does Second-Hand become "Vintage"

Maybe I'm the only person who doesn't quite get "Vintage".  Is it just second-hand stuff and, if so, why not just rummage through the local op shops instead of paying top-dollar for old stuff?  At least if you go to the op shops you are helping out the needy in our society so not only are you getting something new (or old) you can easily justify the expenditure because it's actually donating to charity.  In fact, I wonder if you buy your stuff at op shops you can claim it on your tax?

I was looking in a "Vintage" shop today and yes, it did bring back some memories of clothes my sisters and I were wearing in the 60s and 70s and I'm telling you, they didn't look that great back then and, in my eyes, they still don't look that great now.  Maybe your "Vintage Dior" or "Vintage Versace" may be worth the big bucks because I think they stand the test of time.  They genuinely are works of art with hours of labour going into creating the lace and beading but I think they are really pushing the "Vintage" tag to the extreme on a lime green cotton shift dress with machine-embroidered flowers or a multi-coloured crocheted poncho!

In the famous words of Darryl Kerrigan in "The Castle" - 'Tell 'em they're dreamin'.

It's not that I don't appreciate retro and vintage things.  There are many things that you have to love and admire from this era.  For example, old cars look fantastic and bring back memories of a less complicated lifestyle.  It conjurs up colourful images of Elvis and rock & roll, the drive-in movies, malted milks and sock-hops, pony-tails and cheer leaders.  Hang on - I have got to stop watching Happy Days!

Don't forget  the VW combi camper - how cool were they?  These were probably the original motor-home and shouldn't be thrown on the trash heap and I would encourage recycling of these. 

With "Vintage" clothes though - who decides when clothes become "Vintage"?  Are thereVintage police out there somewhere going through the big pile saying "Yes", "No", "Are they kidding?, "What the xxxx" , "What were they thinking!"

First Dose of Chemotherapy

Well, I've had my first dose of chemotherapy and am proud to say that I have survived although there were a couple of days there that my family may have thought otherwise.  In fact, I thought otherwise! I staggered from the bathroom to the bedroom, to the recliner chair and then to the lounge before going back to the bathroom to pee.  The peeing was endless.  No doubt that had plenty to do with the gallons of water I'd been told to drink. I was in the bathroom about every 90 minutes for the first few nights so sleep was very elusive.

It hasn't been quite a week and I am thinking one down and three to go.  I guess that is a positive and I haven't decided to quit after the first dose.

It doesn't matter what symptom I get at the moment, I blame it on the chemo (like blame it on the boogie).  The first few nights I was having weird nightmares where I woke up in a lather of sweat and screaming.  I haven't had nightmares like that since I watched  Silence of the Lambs.  I get weird aches and pains all over the place - in my joints and sometimes just a quick stabbing pain in my shin and then my shoulder.  I just hope this means it is doing its stuff like a little pac-man chomping its way through any stray escaped cancer cells it comes across.

The amount of support and information that is available for breast cancer patients is nothing short of amazing so, in many cases I think I may have been able to counteract some of the symptoms such as mouth ulcers and dry skin.  In fact my skin hasn't been this moist and supple in years because I'm encouraged to look after my skin and moisturise regularly because of both the surgery and the chemotherapy.  My hands and arms are now beautiful and soft and my nails are glowing from putting about 50 coats of nail strengthener on to combat possible breaking nails.

For years I've had this crease between my eyebrows (some people may call it a wrinkle but not me) which I thought was a permanent fixture but it appears that not working and looking after my skin with beautiful quality products (complements of Look Good Feel Better) has reduced this dramatically.  I can now see that there is a direct link between how well I sleep and the depth of the crease (or wrinkle if that's the road you're taking ).  Every morning I jump up out of bed, or at least drag my butt up slowly to check on the sleep-o-meter crease and it does me the world of good when I have trouble locating it.  I'm now a girl on a mission to get rid of it for good.  If it can disappear for hours at a time then it can piss off permanently.

The fact that I'm not working also gives me ample time to pamper my skin so I'm cleansing, toning, gelling, moisturising, eye-creaming, neck creaming daily and masking regularly.  Hopefully, if I have glowing pampered skin I won't feel so bad about things if and when my hair falls out.  On this matter though I have been trying on hats, scarves, turbans and wigs so I hope to be prepared and not have a melt-down.

Tomorrow I'm back to the hospital to get the dressing changed on my PICC line (for the uninitiated, this is best described as a direct link to drugs) and if I'm up to it, a visit to the wig shop just to see if there is anything there that takes my fancy.  Perhaps a blond bob like Julia Roberts wore in Pretty Woman .....