Another twilight zone

So, it's over – for now. Sunday and Monday were lost to the Taxol. The pain was bearable, but I couldn't walk and by Tuesday my bum grew another five inches and stuck to the back of the couch. But, my cross stitch is coming along nicely and I think I have had my fill of old movies for a while.

My face is getting rounder and my head looks more and more like humpty dupty. Maybe it's because I lost more of my eyebrows and the stubble on top of the round tip is getting whispier and whispier.

It was difficult. I think it was so difficult, because I had been spoiled by Ildi and Alison and Sally and it was hard to be by myself. Nellie caught a bug and was very sick over the weekend, so she couldn't come and be with me. We laughed about it over the phone in the end, but it just isn't the same as having someone with you. So, I talked on the phone a lot and slept a lot too.

Today was better. My mind was clear and I got up early, did my Qi Gong, and worked on editing a booklet for the Amnesty International speakers group I belong to. In the afternoon I braved the sun and wind, got on the bus, and went to have coffee with Sue, who had just been retrenched. There should be a law against unexpected retrenchment. It isn't fair. You go in to work as per normal, and then the boss calls you in and tells you, thanks, no thanks, you are retrenched. It's happening to a lot of older journalists and there's nobody to mentor the young ones as we had been mentored when we started. It's a real shame.

Anyway, back to the me issues. It was difficult to walk today, as the legs buckled still. I walked like a 90 year old. I tried to keep upright, which meant I slowed down. It was a bit embarrassing crossing the street and the cars waiting impatiently. A taste of things to come, I guess.

In any case, right now I am not feeling too hot. I think I am nervous about tomorrow and getting ready to face the radiation oncologist. I guess I just can't let go of the image of my friend Nirmala, who was burned more than 20 years ago and lost the quality of her life to the end. Mind you, she was the bravest person I know, except for her family, who lived with her. It must have been very difficult for everyone.

Luckily I am going to see wonderful Angela, the counsellor, before Dr. S.P., so I can get a lot stuff off my chest, including some family stuff that will force me to reevaluate my relationship with my brother. I thought I had sorted all that out, but evidently not.

At the moment I feel like I am living inside a Charlotte Bronte melodrama. It would be nice to wake up tomorrow and realise this is all just a bad dream.