Not my 40th Birthday day

‘I’ve got fuzzy little chin bones’ – words I uttered tonight, but never thought I would utter at the grand old age of 40!!! Never mind anytime of my life!

It has been a long day. The man cub struggled from the get go. No happy wishes, no cards, no gestures – which is what I wanted; but the pain was etched on his face. He wanted to mark the day at the very least but I was staunch in my approach to it. I felt absolutly dreadful after no sleep, chemo drugs still swilling inside me, looked terrible, and wanted to sleep for weeks. I had no celebrating in me.

I had a couple of messages from people who didn’t know I was postponing, and a few cards. I also got flowers from my bestie – not for my birthday, she knew, but they were just flowers she said!! Then my parentals turned up to take me for lunch with an orchid – again just flowers and just lunch. A normal day!!

I can’t compute though, that ten years ago I was having a meal with family and friends at a lovely local pub, watched the rugby in the afternoon after the parentals were dispatched home, got drunk and refused access to a Wetherspoons (I wasn’t even trying to get in there!!)!! I then tumbled into bed and had a very long lie in the next day.

Ten years and some life changing moments since – a five year old now rules my life and Cancer is ruling my head. Who can anticipate those changes?

I’m pretty sure the five year old took five years in persuasion! Thirty changed my mind on the cub front and the ovaries started twitching. The twenty year old me would have had my tubes tied. The thirty year old me decided that they needed to work. I never knew that I could love someone so much and who would melt my stubborn heart.

The Cancer wasn’t something I twitched for. At twenty eight I had pragmatically dealt with a little pseudo lump which was removed and no issues. Why this couldn’t have been the same I don’t know. Life deals you melons sometimes. This last year I have dealt with two surgeries, MRI’s, mammograms, ultrasounds, chemotherapy, loss of all body hair, sickness, nausea, looking like pure death warmed up. And through it all that little five year old human has being the centre of my universe (don’t worry the man cub knows!) and has kept me going throughout. She is the reason I get out of bed each day and has been my motivation, my desire to keep going, my  light at the end of every day, and the reason behind my tears every time. She was the first person I thought of when I was told I had Cancer and the last person I think about each night. She makes me so happy but also fills me full of my worst sadness.

The man cub and I have reminisced all night, reliving memories over these last ten years. How we didn’t appreciate a lie in as much as we ever should have. The fact that I had a clean house for weeks at a time before I had a whirlwind cub. That we have always been positive and will always ‘try’ to be now. But we keep coming back to the current situation. We try and make sense of it. And we can’t. We are both irretrievably changed and there’s no going back from this now. The day ends a little bit drunken, like it did ten years ago.


After getting through a crazy day yesterday and it being Saturday, I’d asked the cub to play in her room until at least 8.30am if she woke early. She had my digital alarm. She arrived at 6.30am and asked me if that was before or after 8.30. FML. Clock reading is now priority of the near future.

I’ve tackled school shoe shopping today in the biggest shopping centre and I honestly thought I would fall over my own feet at one point. The poor cub ended up getting a mediocre pair of shoes as I had nothing else to give at this point. I am fully planning a day in bed tomorrow to try and prepare for a Monday back at work after chemo, but by, I am so tired. Its so hard to explain to anyone, but even when I had a newborn – those weeks between 0 and 6 when everyone says it gets better (and it does, but they are the longest six weeks in the world) –  I wasn’t this tired. My bones didn’t ache. My head wasn’t in constant conflict. My body wasn’t failing me.

Tonight I have dragged the man cub to bed at 10pm. Unheard of on a Saturday but I have bizarre pains in my legs and just want him to be ready if I need to go to hospital. It is the first time I have ever felt like this, like I might need to do a hospital dash. And it has me in a little panic about whether something is going on in my body. Its like electric shocks riding up and down my legs. I am unsettled. I feel light headed and haven’t had enough drink to make that happen.

I’ve laid in bed for hours, dramatising the worst case scenarios and I need to sleep before I get consumed by this latest twitch. Because I’m damned if I am not going to get through this.


I am going to have this night. I am going to have this bloody fight. I really am.

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