Tag Archives: adultery

Sad Eyed Lady

Silence for all sorts of reasons…abusive comments to blog, which I have blocked and silent phone calls throughout day and night (one day without pause for breath) which neither my telephone provider nor police nor son seem able to stop…I have been jittery..is it something, is it nothing? Are they related? But hey…I have dealt with worse than this even in recent weeks and have strong  suspicions as to where they are coming from but am more grounded than some I could mention, so will not rise to the bait.

Anyway to hell with that..I went away which seemed a quick fix at the very least..and had a great time at Cheltenham Literary Festival in the glorious sunshine, with great company, great accommodation and fantastic events, Marion Coutts, Mary Portas, Patrick Gale, Lisa Genova and more…but now back to face the music or not… (…and was the chosen place to lay my head elegant or kitsch? either way…just my bag! – see pics)

Health has taken a sort of downhill spiral but a manageable one. I have had pus leaking out of toes and fingers for a couple of weeks (which I was optimistically ignoring) but when it started spreading to other parts of my anatomy I decided I needed to seek some medical help. I am now 3 days into a 2 week course of antibiotics which seems to be starting to make a difference. I can, at least, now put some shoes on and move about more easily…

Trying to keep my eyes focused ahead despite the distractions and…keep taking the tablets…

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Half and half

I seemed to be bearing my load reasonably well in recent weeks…but yesterday I came tumbling down..and down…

I spent the night fitfully, as I couldn’t seem to shift acute pain, which ebbed and flowed through the small hours with no painkiller killing the pain…and when I finally got up it was as if the physical pain had awoken a whole headspace of mental pain. How on earth had I been kidding myself for 18 months that my one breasted physique was Amazonian rather than “deformed”? In a split second I was hurling my rose tinted spectacles I had been clinging onto for dear life, across the room. I suddenly saw the make believe world I had constructed to protect myself, crumble. A world where all my clothes (and me) had looked great. Suddenly I was staring at myself in the mirror and seeing every item of clothing I put on as worse than the last, all emphasising loss of every possible kind. I stood there, for what seemed like forever, tearfully acknowledging that actually I feel half the woman I was as well as half-hearted…half-baked…and that maybe that I haven’t yet faced the half of it…

Suspect this is shake-down time…now I have been through chemo, hair loss, mastectomy, betrayal three times over, retirement, divorce as well as selling and buying property and setting up my new home..it is now the moment to face it all..and it’s not pretty…

…but today have been to the gym and there is the smell of roasting lamb and garlic through the house as I am cooking for friends…and I would certainly be feeling even less than half a being without them…

Rosie the Riveter…the Oxford version

You might have thought that I would be knee deep in boxes and wondering where to put things… However, instead I am exploring previously unknown foodie websites and discovering ingredients and kitchen equipment that looks pretty essential for my new home…

At the top of (yet another) wishlist are: a risotto paddle (how have I ever dared to make risotto without one of these?); a universal food baller and, the piece de resistance – a vegetable sculpture knife set (and possibly a course to go with it!). Then on the spice front – who could resist Virgin Islands Spiced Salt, Australian Murray River Salt, hot mole paste, liquorice powder….and I could go on…

Herceptin given in my own home too…and multiple hospital letters delivered to my new address as well..so it looks like I am in business

Meantime back at the coal face I am amazed that I have managed to construct some flat pack furniture…it was slow but the miracle is that I took my time and was patient, not one of the qualities I am known for. Even better than the sense of achievement I felt…the furniture is still standing! As if that wasn’t enough I have also fitted a wireless doorbell, all on my own. Laugh if you like but neither of these tasks are anything I would have had any confidence in doing myself before last week.

..and, oh yes..I have won a prize from the Delia Smith website

strong woman

…and ain’t that the truth…

Moving swiftly on….

After a very, very, very anxious, stressy and sleepless weekend when the judge had ruled (on Friday afternoon) that my divorce settlement was unfair to my husband, sorry, ex-husband. Today when my (very expensive) lawyer explained the situation, (in court) he changed his mind and I am now AT LAST (whoo-hoo..)

DIVORCED

(do listen to the Dolly Parton link!)

…and I can move house…in less than 48 hours…I am about to become my own person, once again…hallelujah! Sod cancer!

A last gasp denizen of Iffley Fields

My hair – which I am not complaining about…I will never again complain about a headful of hair, however blowsy. However it seems to have arranged itself in a style which reminds me (and others) of a poodle. It has been doing this for several days and I wonder why (only in passing of course!)

More worrying however is the complete insomnia being caused by the ever diminishing freezer and fridge contents in readiness for my house move next week. This is not an area that can be defined by “less is more” and I am very troubled.

The freezer still has an eclectic mix of items which challenge my culinary imagination: Fish fingers; ice cream; potato croquettes (only 3 years past their best before date); a variety of flavoured breadcrumbs I have made; pancakes for crispy duck and enough butter puff pastry to allow for endless “tart” mistakes, and then some!

The fridge – I am doing less well with. It remains well stocked but not really with ingredients for doing anything very interesting with…and then I rummage – ah yes…6 bottles of wine, pickles, butter, mustards, relishes, fruit juice, nail varnish, milk and of course stuff from the freezer that I defrosted to eat and instead I look at it…but phew…there is cheese..coffee, wine and tomatoes so I will be fine.

Back to the hospital tomorrow which I had forgotten about until a cheeky text popped up yesterday to remind me. Heart this time, it may be broken but hopefully the beat goes on…

Free totty…

I may not be using totty in its truest sense, but being a colloquial word, I think I have poetic licence to do as I will…

…and what I have been doing is full-on canoodling  with summer fruit which is one of my passions. Daily, I have been visited by generous friends and neighbours with allotment gluts. Redcurrants, blackcurrants, gooseberries, cherries as well as chard, peas and courgettes…Lovely jubbly!

…a level of anxiety creeps in at leaving my hugely supportive community BUT…hopefully a new bunch of friends to meet…I am trying to be positive about leaving my lovely family home (and…oh yes, the old concept of family) but the wobbles poke me from time to time. I try to stop in my tracks – work it through and then go back to focusing on the future, rather than the past.

“Black clouds lumbered off westward like ghosts of buffalo”

How perfect an analogy is that? Despite the fact that I have a funeral to attend; a house to pack up; a decree absolute to wait for; another hospital appointment to attend alongside a fridge of diminishing content AND extremely grumpy cats…it does feel like the fog is lifting. I find that I do, finally, have the impetus to start looking at the future with delight rather than staring at the abyss of the past with disbelief, anger and despair.

I can do this…I am doing this…I continue to give attention to my own mental and physical health, I have bought a house on my own, sold a house on my own, prepared a “moving book” (full of lists which prompt me to do the stuff that I keep forgetting) as well as getting on with the rest of life. For the first time (in my now short term memory) I am teetering on the edge of believing that there may be a “rest of life”. I am now ready to grab it , wallow in it … and do some celebrating, laughing and living. (OK…still on full-whack of anti-depressants..but moving in a better direction!)

Too skinny…what’s that about?

The ritual hospital parking nightmare…no spaces….park somewhere…worry exponentially about being clamped/fined/tarred and feathered (or…all of the above). Then, I sit in front of the oncologist and wait for my results to load…shift about in my seat, sense erratic breathing and then and only then the “only bad” news from the CT scan is that I am “too skinny…” ONLY? BAD?

Fancy that?

House sale/purchase exchanged today….semi-house clearance today….scans clear…too skinny…WHAT??? too skinny hey…there’s a future! Bring it on…

Annual returns

I am (stoically) directing my eyes full-beam ahead, despite the obstacle course of things (legal, medical, financial, housing) I am negotiating. And, head and shoulders above all of this horse trading and waiting remains the impending death of my close friend. To say we have been “lucky” might be pushing it, but the huge upside of us both having cancer at the same time has meant we could spend more time together in the past 2 years than at any time since student days. We have been capitalising on the space we have had for a lifetime of conversations – discussing things past, present and future… She wants Dolly Parton singing “My Tennessee Home” at her funeral (perhaps not in person..but that would work too!) and we have laughed about her directing proceedings beyond the grave.

When I am not with her I am having to use every effort to avoid consulting my rear view mirror. Downsizing means a significant investment of time in sorting through both “stuff” and memories. Whilst I am not of the sentimental persuasion, I am finding that this is really tugging at more than my heartstrings re-evaluating what I thought was true about my past.

I am relieved to know that I cannot inhabit the sanguine persona (personae?) of happiness at any price, that my “husband” and “friend” have played/are playing..somehow I think that my need is to inhabit these emotions and work them through so that in time I may be able to toss them into the wind. Meantime, a 4 bedroom house, loft, cellar, shed, storage “corridor”, garden and more…require rationalising!

This is all happening a year on from when I learned that I was being left, maybe exactly the right time to physically move on and leave “it” all behind. Too many tears, too much incomprehension, too much loss, too many lies to start looking back now. I won’t be broken and my amazing flash mob supporters are there again and again and again and again making sure.

Straw woman

After a very curved ball start to the day yesterday which involved booking a curious half day course (and that is putting it mildly!), the day spiralled into a complete nosedive…my coping mechanisms just gave way and left me in a tearful puddle at all the loss I have had, continue to have and still face.

But today’s another day. Hopefully, a passing moment of self-pity and back to papering over the cracks and moving swiftly on