First of all: a disclaimer. A few years ago I listened to someone interviewed on the radio whose partner had died of cancer. This person, mid interview, stopped to make the insistent point that when talking about people who have cancer we should stop calling it a battle. Someone’s ‘battle with cancer’. As if dying, is somehow a loss at battle.

I want to be very clear here. Whilst I plan to kick Alan in the dick, I understand that it is every cancer patient’s goal to be rid of cancer. Nobody loses because they didn’t try hard enough. Some of the strongest people I know have died because cancer is a nasty fucker and it’s terrible luck that sometimes the treatment isn’t able to kill all the cancer. Out of respect for those people and their families, I just want to make it clear that my personal strength and determination, whilst helpful in getting me from day to shitty day, are not going to be the biggest deciding factors in me surviving cancer. Instead I put my trust in science and medicine.

On that note: Anti-vaxxers, you can now kindly fuck off with your nonsense. Do not come one foot near my immunocompromised person. I shall fart on you. Then you’ll wish you had also been wearing a mask.

Which brings me to the science and medicine. My brand is called oncology and more specifically, chemotherapy. Those of you wondering about surgery and radiotherapy, I’ll go into why those aren’t options at another time.

I start chemo tomorrow. And I, whilst supportive of my doctors’ decisions, would much prefer to not have to be doing it. In a moment of theatrical sobbing the other night I wailed to Chris and Mel that I was relating hard to pre-crucifixion Jesus in the garden of Gethsemane. Take this cup away from me Dr Wann!! I know – my sense of the dramatic knows no bounds. Needless to say we all started pissing ourselves at this moment. I mean, chemo is WAY worse than crucifixion!

I think of chemo as one of those shithouse carnival rides you go on because someone drags you on to it, kicking and screaming. You know the kind:

You might throw up. Because people often do, but it affects everyone differently. You won’t know until you ride.

You might shit your pants. Diarrhoea is common but…it affects everyone differently. Start clenching just in case.

Your hair might completely fall out, fall out in patches or not fall out at all. Ok this doesn’t normally happen on a ride but I was never going to be able to keep the analogy going for ever.

You will be exhausted. You might get mouth sores and ulcers. Your immunity will be so compromised that hearing a sneeze three blocks away could send you into hospital with a temperature and that’s not good.

You might. You might. You might.

You might not. You might not. You might not.

I am so scared. I can’t predict anything. I’ve imagined everything. I’ve spoken to friends who have been through this and they all say the same. It sucks. But if anything is going to work, it’s this. It’s the hardest thing you will ever do in your life. But you keep getting up and doing another day. You just walk towards the ride every day. Holding a vomit bag, and clenching all the way.

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0 thoughts on “Roll up for the Mystery Tour

  1. You are so right – Chemo is waaay worse than crucification but with your attitude, you got this covered. Yep, it will suck but Alan needs to leave the premises and if this is the way to eradicate him, then this is what must be done. Thinking of you (a lot) and sending you all my love and strength. ❤️❤️

  2. You are a wordsmith and a warrior Kristy. And this is just shit news. Let us know if we can do any Alan dick kicking for you!. Thinking of you.

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