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  • Writer's pictureNeil

Drink Jaded or Chemo Chemical Cocktail Confusion?


Cast your mind back to a time when you didn't want to stop talking to the person you were with. You talk into the early hours. I remember when I first met Tricia, Lauren was 6, after Lauren went off to bed Tricia would often phone me up. (Pre-mobile, there was probably a cost involved). We would talk for ages. Sometimes, no, usually with a bottle of something quaffable nearby.

I distinctly remember at least one conversation where I started sober and finished well oiled. That was almost (A=24years ago - B=100years ago - C= last month or D= Last night)

Answer A and D and probably C. For the purposes of this blog update I'm focusing on answer D.

This morning I'm a bit drink jaded but I wouldn't know because I'm entering my completely jaded week.

Yesterday's chemo session went swimmingly in and out in about 3 hours (less than the time Tricia spent driving). Tourists + rain + half term, all looking for Torremolinos in Truro. Nightmare! It was a mid day chemo session. We were a little concerned that Tricia would need to drive in the dark. I reckon I could manage before the full effects of my chemo chemical cocktail kicked in. I probably have a 2hour window of almost definitely illegal opportunity to drive.

Then home, sleep, get organised for the plumber, sleep, help/hinder plumber, eat a fabulous mushroom Biryani, continue to help/hinder the plumber, pay plumber by donating his fee to Bowel Cancer UK. www.justgiving.com/fundraising/cornwallwalkstogether , at 10:30 relax for ½hour, hello Jack Daniels Tennessee Fire, extend relaxation period by a factor of stupid, stagger up to bed.

Sometimes you just need to talk, sometimes we need to talk. Clearly last night was one of those nights. I know when it's a good conversation when I continually interject "that's good for the blog". I also know that I drank too much when, in the morning I simply cannot remember anything that's "good for the blog". What I do remember however was asking Tricia, probably through tears, who she can talk to. You know really talk to. Laugh, cry, hug, hold onto, sit in silence with, without, fear of judgement. Someone with whom she will be able to share the darkest moments and eventually face the future with. Thankfully my concerns were unfounded. Another box ticked.

What have I learnt?

Adding alcohol to my chemo chemical cocktail isn't always a bad thing. "Now that's good for the blog".

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