Category: Uncategorized
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55: DON’T SPEAK!
It’s the end of the evening and I walk into the bedroom as Lizzie’s in the process of putting on her baggy old pyjamas. I make a Sid James-style suggestive noise. ‘Don’t look at my fatness!’ says Lizzie, as she tugs her top on. ‘You’re not looking fat!’ I say, then add brightly, ‘you’ve lost…
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54: CAT Scan
It’s 5.45am and I’m rushing to get ready for work – which is down in London today (doing my crappy film production job). As I crash about the house, desperately trying not to wake everyone up, I notice the following bag in the hall by the front door. It’s litter for our new kitten –…
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53: GLAD TO HAVE BEEN OF HELP
Lizzie now appears to be remembering on a regular basis that I’m writing a journal about our experiences. She asks me how it’s going, as we take the dog for a walk down the hill. Feeling slightly embarrassed, I tell her that writing ‘Stop Telling Me I’m Brave’ has not only been strangely therapeutic… it’s…
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52: HEARSE
It’s my daily walk with Lizzie and Cedric the dog, over the fields. Lizzie is talking about what might happen after her final CAT scan in a few days’ time. Specifically, what might happen if it turns out all her cancer hasn’t gone. She tells me she’s expecting her oncologist to have a back-up plan…
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51: GRANDMA Vs. CEDRIC
It’s Saturday and Lizzie’s Mum has come to visit again. I like Lizzie’s Mum (or Grandma, as she’s known by the kids). For one thing, we’ve bonded in the face of a shared enemy – Cedric the dog. Cedric HATES Lizzie’s Mum. At the very sight of her, he goes nuts – barking his head…
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50: UPS… AND DOWNS
It’s the Saturday one week after Lizzie had her last chemo session. Usually things are calming down at this point. Lizzie has got past her worst days (which are usually three or four days after the chemo, when the steroids have worn off) and, as a family, we begin to collectively sigh a sigh of…
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49: MEGAMIND
It’s Saturday and Lizzie and I are about to go for our daily walk with Cedric. I go upstairs to ask Annie if she wants to come (Jake is out, so I can’t ask him). As I know what the answer will be already – an automatic, uninterested ‘NO!’ from my daughter – I try…
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48: DOWN THERE 2
It’s two months after my hernia operation and I’m due a visit to my oncologist. Oops! Freudian slip. I mean my consultant. Clearly, in some bizarre way, I’m trying to give my own, tiny, pathetic medical procedure more prominence than it deserves – by subconsciously thinking I might require an oncologist myself. Well, that’s clearly…
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47: SUMMERTIME
Hi blog readers! I’ve had a few messages, in response to the last couple of blog entries, asking how Lizzie is doing. Obviously, it’s because the tone of these entries (particularly the last-but-one: ‘Statistics’) is pretty bleak! Thank you – message-senders – for your supportive words to Lizzie, it’s really kind of you! Just a quick reminder…
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46: BREAK
I haven’t written anything for the last few days. Like Lizzie, I feel floored by the statistics her oncologist told her. I feel that what I’ve been writing might be too flippant. I’ve been so determined to look for any positives in this situation – particularly the humour Lizzie and I have shared – maybe…
P. D. Clifton 