I speak 4 languages: English, Profanity, Sarcasm and Shit.

I’m in a gang.  I’ve never been in a gang before. Well actually that’s not entirely true.  

When I was 9 my friends and I bullied a kid who was being mean to us…  We flicked horse shit on sticks at him until he retreated…  I feel bad about that now… Kind of.

There’s four of us in this gang and we all have something in common. We’re badass brain tumour survivors.

Names have been changed to protect the identities of these goddesses. So hence forth we are referred to as:  Aphrodite, Venus, Inanna and Aurora.

If you don’t know the meaning of these names you were obvs snogging/smoking in the bike sheds during mythology lessons at school. (I was anyway).

Our gang’s named The Love Honeys… Appropriate as we’re fucking cancer and Lovehoney is an online sex shop.

To know there are other people out there who feel exactly the same way as you is mind glowingly reassuring.

They help you realise that you haven’t actually lost the goddamn plot…  Your brain’s just been temporarily fucked because a mother-fucking-platinum-plated cunt has invaded your private headspace.

And in other news…

The Cheshire Kitty Cat has been here taking care of me. And what a fabulous little ball of energy she is.

She cooks, she cleans, she takes the dog on 5-mile runs along the beach… And all before I’ve even got out of bed.

She chauffeurs me around…  Even though this is her first time ever driving on the wrong side.

She’s befriended the neighbours by popping in with bottles of English gin and then staying for a few hours to help them polish it off.

She’s chummy with my radiology team to the point where they’ve offered to give her a tour of the 60 ft monster living 4 floors below ground at the proton centre.

She even mixes me cocktails before supper every evening. Last night was a questionable combo of laxative and sparkling wine. The results were rip-roaringly spine chilling.

Kitty keeps telling me that ‘Friends are like fish, they smell after three days.’ She’s been here a week…  I keep whiffing her fanny but it smells fine to me.

Sadly she must leave me tonight and like all my other beautiful besties who’ve been taking care of me I will miss her terribly.

Sad to say that my ‘house of ill repute’ might have to close its doors for a few weeks now due to the dreaded potential side effects of radio.

But as long as it doesn’t make me grow another head… Or a penis… I will fight it like a girl!

what’s he looking at…
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I don’t know what I’m doing but I’m doing it my way.

I made an important life changing decision today but I’ll get to that in a little while.

We had another appointment to meet the radiology team.  This time, the lovely people I’ll be seeing 5 days a week for 6 weeks.

First I had to pee in a minuscule cup. As always my aim was off, I got it on my hands, shoes, the loo, the floor and all over the cup.  The shocking thing though was the colour of it.. Fluorescent Orangina, without the fizz, swishing around. 

Clearly, I hadn’t consumed enough water since the contrast MRI yesterday where they pumped me full of fluid to see if Bambi was still lurking.

The reason they performed the pee test was to see if I was pregnant.. Even though I’d informed them I haven’t had a period in forever they still felt it prudent to check. 

We waited with baited breath and I mentioned to M that this could be the first menopausal immaculate conception baby ever, or better still..   Twins. 

It took an unusually long time for the results, which convinced me it WAS twins.

Naturally I started thinking names. If it’s girls.. Bunny and Hunny.. And boys.. Danger and Ranger.

Eventually results came back and surprise surprise no little menopause babies for us. We’ll just have to get more pets to fill the empty nest. Maybe I can play the cancer card to get the 3 donkeys I always wanted. Boli, Dom and Krug. 

So even though I still don’t know if I’m having Photon or Proton therapy the wheels have been set into spinning motion and the biggest deal is the radiotherapy mask which is essential when attempting to eradicate evil brain cells at the same time as trying to keep the good guys.

The procedure was explained..  it would feel like a spa treatment.  

I wasn’t falling for this and decided to pop a couple of Valium just to be on the safe side.  So by the time the process started I was feeling spa-like relaxed and they could’ve told me I was in the Mandarin Oriental Miami and I might’ve believed them. The moulding and sculpting took place and was followed by a swift CT scan.

Me getting moulded (or ‘molded’ if you’re American)

So the huge life changing decision we had to make came next.

What type of mask would I like?   

I was offered a bland selection but nothing appealed.  I asked the nice radio man if I could have a superhero mask and he looked at me in a blank kind of shocked way and said ‘Well we do this for children sometimes, but I’ve never been asked to do it for an adult before.’   ‘Yes, but is it possible?’  Was my response  ‘Okay, well I can show you a few kids ones I’ve done.’  He answered.  

He then revealed a selection of impressive photos – a pink unicorn, the Incredible Hulk and Wonder Woman.

It was a tough choice as I’d been secretly dreaming of Spider-Man. But then I thought, maybe I’d like something more feminine and enquired what his opinion was re. making me the face of a blow-up sex doll.  

M stamped his foot at this and said NO WAY’

Then we moved back to superheroes and I suggested a sultry looking Catwoman. We liaised over some provocative images of Michelle Pfeiffer and Halle Berry then found a sexy Catwoman compromise and all agreed that would do the trick.. Minus the latex suit of course.

The blank canvas

So there you have it.  Biggest decision made today and I’m going to face this terra-fucking-frying treatment as goddamn Catwoman!  

MEOW! 

‘You can’t arrest me, I’m a rock star’. (Sid Vicious)

What do you get when you put two super-sexy high-powered middle-aged Englishwomen, an 18-year-old thespian skinhead, a designer Australian Labradoodle with a questionable haircut and a bag of ‘special ’ gummy bears on a sofa together?

High as heck baby. 

One got jiggly, one got giggly, one got wiggly and one got licky.  Then they all got excessively munchy.

Luckily we’d pre-emptied this scenario and there was an extensive Japanese sushi banquet in the kitchen waiting to be inhaled.

I of course was an outsider looking in..  A spectator watching the spectacle unfold.  My current situation and cocktail of narcotics probably wouldn’t have been an agreeable mixer so I had to sit on the side lines of this little soiree.  

You might well think that Saturday nights in the house of a brain tumour person would be a tad tedious and tame..  But not around here honey.  It’s all about love and other drugs.

Having a goddamn mother-fucking brain tumour isn’t going to eliminate the good-time-party-girl in me.   

After all..  A little party never killed nobody and who knows what fucked up shit tomorrow might bring.

I might have been born in the shadows of Windsor Castle but I knew I’d burst into the sunshine eventually.

Not sure if it’s my eloquent British accent but honestly the US medical system have treated me like a princess throughout this freaky fiasco.

I have an exemplary A Team Royal Entourage, which must at the very least match that of HRH Megan, the new Duchess of Sussex.

I‘m being cared for by unquestionably brilliant people..   Neurosurgeons, neurologists, oncologists, radiologists, doctors, nurses.  Not to forget my incredible group of beautiful friends who are flying in from all over to cook for me, enterain me and walk the dog.   

The only team members missing from my ‘inner circle’ are the stylists, make up artists and hairdressers.

I even have a PA, Chauffer and Chief Protection Officer (AKA M), which incidentally came in handy today when a suspicious looking package arrived from Latvia.   

I suggested M put on his bicycle helmet – take said package to garage for inspection and controlled explosion.

Instead he bravely opened it on kitchen counter with a pair of kitchen scissors. 

Rather than an assemblage of brightly coloured cables and alarm clocks the box revealed a lovely selection of heart shaped beach stones sent to me by my gorgeous sister-in-law as a symbol of our love and the personal significance they hold.

I’ve also discovered that having a brain tumour is a full-time job and having an efficient PA to pick up the slack is imperative– there are appointments to be made, insurance companies to negotiate with, thank you notes to write.. It’s round-the-clock non-stop. 

I barely have time to squeeze in a mani and wax – although I might not need that for a while once the chemo and radio kicks in.

It’s time for M to iron my pjs and run me a bubble bath now.

Good night all, I hope you have sexy dreams or flying dreams (they’re my favourite kind).

P.S. There are no mother-fuckers or cunts in this post because some of my friends mums are reading my blog and there’s concern my cursing is offensive. 

Sorry about that! 

If you’ve never seen a pair of toy poodles chatting to each other in French – you’ve never dropped acid.

Honey go put the kettle on – this one’s going to take a while.

Today felt like a day at the Academy Awards.

The results were in.   And waiting for results is a bit like waiting to find out whether you’ve won an Oscar or not.

I even decided to get proper dressed for the big event.  Gigantic pants and baggy sweats really weren’t going to cut it today.   It felt good slathering myself in Tom Ford and slipping into a little silk cami.  

The drive west was smooth. M has had to revise his driving style from deranged bedlamite to plain-sailing slow-lane chauffer in order to cater to my need for seamless gear changing due to wobbly brain issue.

Arriving at my doctor’s office we were escorted into a private room to await the entrance of the chief.

Time for a quick selfie in big examination chair to share on WhatsApp group with my girl gang back home.

Soon my two new favourite people in the whole wide world entered and we got down to business. 

Results were dispensed and I was given the all-inclusive synopsis of the invader of my synapses AKA Bambi.  

It had been concluded that she was a rarity who had mutated from a few pretty pink star shaped cells. 

I guess at the end of the day – if you’re going to get a brain tumour – what more could a girl ask for than a limited edition, sparkly one.

Then we got back to the important matters of English literature.. My brain surgeon is a literary treasure trove and the fact that he quoted Tolkien and my blog in the same sentence.. Made me feel extra special.

The ride home was fairly benign until suddenly an enormous real life Bambi ran into the road. Oh dear!! M slammed the brakes.  How paradoxical..  I’d never want to annihilate a pukka Bambi.

So next up is a spicy little cocktail of radio and chemo.  I have no idea what this entails.  Is it comparable to mixing acid and ecstasy – I can draw on a past experience for that one.

Finished off the day with my love, my friend, the biggest plate of sushi and the teeniest glass of fizz.

I felt so giddy with optimism that when the UPS man arrived with a package I took it from him and said ‘Thanks, love you. Bye.’

‘We’re only here for a little while, and you’ve got to have some fun, right?’ Burt Reynolds said it!

After this little blip in my tiny role on Earth.. I’ll never be afraid of any fucking thing ever ever again.. Apart from if I have to fly economy class of course. 

I don’t think I’m even timorous about dying anymore.  Not that I plan on expiring any time soon.  

And as a wannabe royal Sikh and ardent lover of dhal..  Mainly because some of my most special besties are Beautiful Sikh Dhal Goddesses..  I have a philosophical curiosity about the subject of reincarnation. 

I’ve been studying Reggie (aka Mr Fluffy) intently this week whilst he’s been dogging on my bed lap. 

You see, I’m convinced he’s the reincarnation of Burt Reynolds .. And the numbers add up.

Burt passed September 2018 and Reggie arrived November 2018.   Just enough time for everyone to re-group and recharge their batteries. 

Reggie definitely has Burt’s seductive racy brown eyes and spunky sense of fun. And of course he’s a totally devoted PUSSY LOVER

And on another note Friday is big bitch results day for Bambi and either she’ll be gaining a PhD or getting flushed down the loo with all the other undesireable body parts.  

Burt and Reggie

Life is going to get tough sometimes. You just have to get the fuck up and get your shit together.

One-week post op and I’m feeling unfamiliarly deep and meaningful.   *Usually I’m a relatively shallow puddle.

I traveled home in my big gals hospital knickers that I refuse to EVER take off and got straight into my crisp The White Company cotton silk sheets whilst simultaneously taking off my bra without removing my top and having a gloriously euphoric bedgasm.

Bundles of beautiful flowers and cards from amazingly kind friends had arrived from all corners of the globe.   I know that I’m so goddamn lucky to be LOVED.

Another gorgeous buddy dropped off the perfect combo of stunning headbands and a divinely delicious batch of chicken soup. 

I’ve had a super special VIP visitor too. This absolute goddess is literally my guardian fucking angel and I am totally in love with her.  I potentially owe her my life. Events would not have happened so smoothly or fallen into place so effortlessly if it wasn’t for this amazing woman.  I’m not sure how I can ever repay her the kindness she has shown me. 

My beautiful stepdaughter also popped in with stunning blooms and Italian takeout. A ‘dice with death’ has made me realize I will no longer be billing myself as the evil stepmother. 

I’ve had calls and messages from so many beloveds and the therapy this provides has been cosmic. 

So while my body is totally fucked and the level of lethargy is comparable to waking up on a Mexican beach after a night of tequila body shots with a bunch of frat boys..  

I’ll just lay here and wait for the perfect prescription to arrive this afternoon..  One of my bestest besties of all time is flying in from Singapore especially.

Fabulous card designed by my gorgeous bestie Bella xxx