Showing posts with label weight. Show all posts
Showing posts with label weight. Show all posts

Monday, 30 August 2010

A Little Clarification & Other Matters


It's hard to stay chipper when you're just so damned tired!  Some days I think I need more antidepressants, but then I remember it's just fatigue.  It better be something I'll get over because I am leading a really useless life just now.

But I'm cheap to keep.  I've lost 13 kilos (28.5 pounds; 2 stone) since my operation.  Just not hungry.  Losing 13 is O.K. because that's what I'd gained, but it's time to call a halt.

Anyway, on a cheerier note, sort of, I have recalled that I've had spots before -- on my lung.  Sometimes they're there and sometimes they're not.  Or sometimes the oncologist mentions them and sometimes he doesn't.  When he does, he tells me they're "nothing."  So I guess the liver spots are the same.

And here are a few pictures I've been meaning to post.


Lance Armstrong's 1999 Yellow Jersey from the Tour de France, donated to Centre Léon Bérard, the hospital I go to.

The T-shirt says, "Behind every successful woman there is frequently a rather talented cat."

The 13 kilos disappeared between this picture and the next.


Wave bye-bye to what hair we had time to grow.

The T-shirt says "Thousands of years ago, cats were worshipped as gods.  Cats have never forgotten this."


Thursday, 18 March 2010

Tubs

Chemo yesterday.  The doctor looked at my hands and feet and asked if they bleed occasionally.  Bleed?  They can get worse?  She lowered my Taxol dose by 25%.

The sun came out on Sunday -- and stayed.  The Mistral is not blowing.  It's not warm, but it's not frigid, either.  So today, leaving the hospital, instead of head retracted like a turtle against the cold and wind, I was walking tall, eyes forward.  And saw myself in a full-length glass building.

Omigod!  I'm going to have to stop whispering endearments  such as "Tubby Tum" and Pudjin (a Yiddishism for pudding) to the animals before they start whispering back.

When the doctor examined me, I asked her if the tumour felt smaller.  Yes, she thought so, "but," she said, it's a little hard to tell with all the weight I've put on.

I think maybe we should find a mirror and put it on the wall. In the meantime, I'll just go eat a doughnut and cheer myself up.