Great News

Unbelievable results today everyone, the cancer count has dropped. Yessiree, the numbers are on my side finally, this is the second drop, the pomegranate juice works, all that up, down, up, down, up, down on the dumb bell lifty thingy works, the meds probably contributed, the sleeping pills are useless, and having awesome friends definitely works.

My mate Pete not only furnished me with accurate and detailed information about the songs Prince sang during his Australian tour, but he also left me a good book titled, “The Secret Language of your Body”. The book contained 230 pages of words that even my bi-focals struggled with, … and I’m not sure what drove Pete to even imagine I could cope with that, … and so I thumbed through to the pages that connected most with me, and I read those 6 pages over and over and over again.

I was even more ecstatic when the doctor said, see you in 6 months time. This was my verbal assurance from the grand wizard (who also wore the coolest watch) that although Sydney had been issued with a severe weather warning tonight with the State Emergency Services on high alert, I can sleep well tonight and for the next 182.5 nights likewise.

Those wild winds can blow the roof off my house, I’m still going to cuddle warmly under my blanket, content that everything can get better.

I have been issued with a free Get Out of Jail card, and I’m bashing this one down on the monopoly table hard for impact. If the table breaks, who cares. I’m going back to the gym tomorrow to work on my pecs, eat bananas and drink gallons of protein shakes. I’m going to dream tonight about conquering Mount Everest, and if I forget my oxygen equipment, who cares!

Adios Chichitos.

Nice Jim Jams

If I were a car, even I wouldn’t buy me.

There just seems to be too many missing or broken parts, lets see, no appendix, no gall bladder, broken shoulder, no prostate, barely remembers things, and the blood is tainted with cancer. Did you say, you’ll pay me to remove this body off the block?

I came home last Wednesday (ANZAC day), spent a couple of hours at work, and a couple more on Thursday and Friday. Next thing I know, those who love me gave me a good old fashioned ear bashing. Nothing like being pushed further below the water line when you’re trying to get on top of things.

I counted 5 (female) nurses who adored my pyjama pants when I was at hospital, I’m now contemplating wearing them out to the shops. For some reason they recognised some dude whose name appeared on my jammy’s called Peter Alexander, just hope he’s not some gay icon. Everyone knows I’m not gay, right? Nothing against gay people, but I can do without the unwanted attention particularly as I’m a bit of a pretty boy and muscular!

Here’s a pic of me suffering in front of the television screen.

I’m of higher and better spirits in the last couple of days because I’ve self diagnosed a double dose of sleeping tabs. I’m sleeping almost as soon as I hit the pillow and then struggle to get out of bed by 8:30am. Problem however is that I’m still drowsy during the remainder of the day.

If there are any credible persons reading this with a Medical background can you leave a comment below please. I’ve changed to 2 x 5mg Diazepam? If this dosage is not causing the tiredness then I may need to worry once again. Crap!

Minus one gall bladder

Feeling really groggy, vision is a bit blurry (wait, that’s normal), throat parched, still hungry, feels like someone’s shot me 3 times in the gut … what am I doing on the Internet?

Hospitals make you feel lonely, however the fast food service of morphine is exceptional. Would have been nice to wake up to a surprise party of Circus Clowns, balloons, animals and magic tricks. I’m a little disappointed.

I’ve got serious tummy pains, and all I want are the Chocolate Lamingtons Lisa and Sarah brought in earlier tonight. Shall I risk it? Even decisions are difficult under anesthetic, … What I really need is either a coin or a dice right now.

Weight Watchers would be happy with me, Google says the average gall bladder weighs 350 grams, and all I want is dessert to celebrate.

Ok, let’s get real, I’m going to try and sleep now, yeah right, like that’s going to happen. At least the TV is going to be my companion tonight, channel surfing here I come.

Good night all.

Mon, 23rd April – The Gall of it

Now that has to be a stroke of bad luck. I’m in hospital once more after a severe bout of abdominal / chest pains very early this morning.

After chugging down 3 cups of some green liquid and being injected with a solution that felt hot as it travelled through my veins, the verdict was cholecystitis (thank gawd for this blogs auto speller). For the uninitiated, this medical term means … ‘type up an invoice for $5,000 please nurse’.

In T minus 2.5 hours, I’ll be laying on the carving table poised to have another organ removed and the anesthetic juice should be fresh at this time of the week. I’m now considering an investment for a time share at this hospital because of my frequent visits.

I am so hungry, last meal was dinner about 22 hours ago.

When Brad came and sat by my side for a little part of the day, we received a comment from a doctor, a wardsman and a nurse asking if we were brothers. Either I look very young or Brad looks “really” old, has to be the latter. This is obviously a sensitive topic for Brad, which I’m prepared to capitalise on at every opportunity I get … Snaaaapp!

Wish I had sold my gall bladder to some sod before it became useless. Anyone interested in a kidney? Go and bid on it like everyone else on eBay!

Handle me with Care and Caution

Just a couple of tips on how to interact with someone like me. I do feel obliged to spell this out so people can stop freaking me out. I’m not trying to be cavalier about this, nor do I wish to offend, but I am working on an alternative secret Colonel Sanders recipe to get myself out of this bind. Unfortunately, this plan is very fragile and can all come to nought at the slightest suggestion of failure or negativity, even when naively offered.

1. I have cancer, not the common cold. Please stop telling me it’s going to be alright unless you know the definitive cure for Cancer. The doctors tell me that the disease reacts differently for everyone. I could be a nifty bag of garden fertiliser within 12 months, or I could be writing a book about how I beat this, fathered 10 more children, won the lottery and how I now appreciate cigars and pedicures.

2. True, I won’t have further use for my wardrobe and that this space will be available sometime in the future, but you will have to search and bid for this piece of real estate on eBay like everyone else.

3. Be prepared for a paternity test, if you’re hoping to turn up for a cut of the Insurance handout. You should know that Brad is not the sharing kind and is currently learning Brazilian Ju Jitsu, and I think he knows how to dish out guillotine choker holds now.

4. Any funeral directors touting for business will need to have a qualified dog handler with them. My dog ‘Dawgie’ has a bite worse than his bark. I am however interested in genuine, no corners cut, Viking Burning Ship Burials’ at Sea, quotes.

5. I AM trying to be positive, and it’s bloody hard when everyone keeps reminding me to remain positive. What I really need is an introductory course in Shaolin Monkism Meditation 101 (in 5 easy steps). If anyone knows where I can pick up the tapes for this, please let me know. I can pick up or arrange delivery at my expense. If it’s a book, make sure it has lots of pictures, preferably cartoons … my attention span is almost non-existent and I’m easily entertained. If the CD has music, ideally monkeys should be able to dance to it.

6. If you really want to cheer me up, I enjoy Chicken Laksa, Mud Crab, Crayfish, Pineapple Lumps, Tamarillos and Coffee from Bonjour Patisserie (Wahroonga).

7. If you think you’re beautiful then a hug would be warmly and immensely appreciated. Groping encouraged but not advised.

Talk to you all again, laters alligators!

Monday, April 16th

Thank you ‘Stilnox’. I actually experienced what most of you take for granted, a sound sleep till around 6am this morning. I have also discovered that this has to be the prescription that’s giving me mild headaches in the morning.

Can’t win them all, ‘sleep’ or ‘headache’?, ‘good’ or ‘bad’?, ‘party all night’ or ‘hangover’? Why does yin have to accompany yang like an uninvited guest? Incidentally, did you know yin is cold, dark, passive, wet and feminine, and that yang is bright, active, dry, hot and masculine?

I know a couple of people who are best described as yin, … I’m definitely yang, a yang who loves the rain!

I can also confirm “Stilnox’ hasn’t caused me to sleep walk and go into a murderous rampage, but the side effects on my memory is shocking. I wouldn’t feel so slack about it, if it weren’t for the people around me reminding me that I had forgotten something, or I sit there struggling with names or events.

A classic example was at French lessons, when the teacher held up a poster with well known faces and we had to introduce them in French. I got away by introducing Julia Gillard as the ‘woman in red’, and Barrack Obama as the ‘black president’. I’m hoping this is all temporary or just one unpleasant dream that I’m about to wake up from.

Which sadly, I’ve made so many friends in this dream I’m going to miss them all.