It’s 3.46 am and I’ve been lying awake for hours almost in tears trying to suppress the desire to tear through my flesh with my fingernails. All because of the barely visible, but now burning like hell blasted horsefly bites from the beach yesterday morning. And I’m so poxy tired cos it’s night two without any sleep, last night it was the steroids. I have every drug known to man at home including antihistamine and hydrocortisone cream, cos the bugs feckin love me, and I’m convinced it will be some little shit that finally does me in with infection when I’m at my lowest ebb. But I’m not at home, I’m at my parents for an early dental appointment before I start chemo.
But that’s not it, that’s not really why I’m upset, It’s the fact that, that I haven’t let it out. This time I have stoically taken it on the chin, the fact that cancer has eaten through my spine, vertebrae by vertebrae, giving me a 50/50 chance of ending up in a wheelchair, regardless of whether I have chemo or not. It’s the fact that in 2018 when we can programme our phones to turn on the lights in our house, I have no choice but to pump poison through my veins. Poison that will wear me down so much that there will be no coming back from it. It’s the fact that my aging parents in their final years have to watch their youngest, free-spirited, stubborn, independent, big strong child deteriorate in front of them, as they wonder how they will care for their invalid daughter. It’s the fact that my sister is run ragged trying to look after the lot of us.