Ice cubes and cornflakes

I am confused about what to write on my blog right now. I started writing this blog for me. So that I had a record of all the good things that I do in my life. So that, when the dark days come, I could see what else my life was about. What else I have done. Who I share it with. What makes me laugh and smile and feel good.

It was never intended to be a blog about cancer. Far from it. I've said it a million times. This disease is what has happened to me. It isn't what is me. I never would have chosen any of this. And I didn't want it to be a blog about cancer.

However, having not left the house for a week, my body having just undergone a chemical onslaught on highly toxic chemotherapy drugs, I am a little lost with my theory.

If we stick with the theory - it is about what I do - then the past few days all I have done is be in a very bad place with treatment. And the tiny moments of pleasure that have been snatched are so far from the bigger world.

For example. Yesterday I ate ice cubes. Yes. Ice cubes. Having been able to take in no liquid whatsoever for days, without causing crippling nausea and vomiting, this was a breakthrough moment. And today, my Mum and I both wept with joy that I could sip water.

So far from travel, photography, stretching, (er cakes,) that would usually make me feel lifted. Ice cubes were the thing I was most grateful for in the entire world.

So perspectives change. When I have felt so weak I cannot describe - here we have it - the last week the things I have enjoyed are:

• I think around about Monday I managed to play the game qwirkle with Jonny. (Bit like dominoes)


• Today I put a hot water bottle on my lower back. It felt nice.


• Yesterday my Mum washed my hair. Too weak to even do this myself, it was her idea. It exhausted me, and I went a little funny afterwards with the nausea again, but was worth it


• I ate cornflakes around about Sunday. Long forgotten cereal that is so right. I don't care what Gillian McKeith says.


• I have had a couple of local friends popping in. In truth I didn't really feel like it, and nearly cancelled them all, but once they were here, it did perk me up, however briefly. This morning was lovely - I could talk to them.


• My family have loved me completely - and I have allowed them to. I've let some friends see me not well too - I'm letting people in.

In the middle of all this my day dream has been a sunny day. Sat in an English countryside field. Gentle breeze. No hayfever. No pain. No sickness. Just complete peace. And Jonny and I eat strawberries and drink champagne. And then friends come. And we eat English scones and cake and it tastes so good. And everything is right with the world.

My friend sent me flowers. The bouquet was called Sunny Day. I do believe in signs so let's hope that day is not so far away.