Things I sort of knew already but this week have been confirmed.

1. If chemotherapy were human it would be a London taxi driver (i.e. it gets you where you're going but makes your life HELL on the way.) 

Keith had his first bout of the new chemo this week, and guess what? It has made him feel like shit. Oh irony of ironies: that the treatment that might help fight the cancer makes him feel all kinds of awful. I won't go into details but it has such a detrimental effect physically and mentally. I took some photos anyway so you have a vague sense of what's going on.

First rule of chemo: coffee before chemo (actually first rule of Sydney is coffee before everything but doesn't alliterate: coffee before chemo much more catchy).

Second rule of chemo is always have at least one trolley

And the third rule of chemo is just sit back and take it.

And of course the best news is that he gets to have it all over again a week later (hint: sarcasm). It's really tough on him. It sucks more than a thirsty mosquito. However he does take it like a man and behaves on the ward much like classic Keith. The boy's a superstar, but then we knew that already.

2. Energy is everything. 

But of course it is you say! It's how we function! Movement! Joules and calories! But these last couple of days I've been thinking about the conservation of energy: that energy is neither created or destroyed, it is converted from one form to another. A lot of the sad energy I have I turn into happy energy, or at least I try to. It's bloody hard but can really pay off. If I leave the sad energy where it is it tends to convert itself to shouting which is a great release but usually results in someone crying. I've written before about harnessing the energy from the lovely messages and unfathomable support...on the ground I turn that sort of energy into even better things like parties. 

It's so tense and stressful though. Generally much too much negative energy milling around, being annoying and making general comments about how tired I look. Bollocks to you negative energy! I have lunch boxes to make and tv commercials to prettify! I've no time for you. This leads me on to the third thing I've reconfirmed this week:

3. Dancing makes lots of things much, much better

Really really really really. Music is a huge part of my life strategy right now but I'll bore you about that another time. I mean dancing! The expression of oneself through rhythmic movement! Works absolute wonders for the kids, really puts them in the moment, no matter what has gone before; and it just makes me feel bloody brilliant. 

It's also a really good reason to have more parties.

So in summary: more of the same, except more stressful and nauseated. Thanks again for the continuing support. You'll find me with the music.

KISSES xxx

Up and Down 

Harness the energy: that's how I signed off my last post and goodness knows I've been harnessing your energy ever since. Thank you so much for your wonderful wonderful messages. Please know that if you wrote, you helped. Sheer wonderfulness and a great deal of inspiration too. Thank you.

The week has been tough. Sadly there has been no chemo because Keith's bloods showed he was too at risk of infection and he was also hypercalcaemic. One of the side effects of Keith's cancer is that he has very high levels of calcium in his blood which can be incredibly dangerous if left untreated. Over the past few months he has been hospitalised several times because of this, and this week he was hit hard again. It had a negative effect on him mentally, he finds the high calcium sometimes very tough to deal with, and it makes him very sleepy. However our Prof at the hospital was overjoyed because it meant he was able to try out a new drug to bring the level down and keep it under control. (In the past our Prof has seriously suggested that Keith a) drink lots of very fine very expensive wine b) drive a souped up Porsche very, very fast through the Aussie outback and c) visit some of the more questionable establishments of Kalgoorlie WA to indulge in, well, 'extra pleasures'. There is a sadistic/hedonistic edge to our Prof: I adore him.) So we'll see how he goes and start the new chemo next week. In theory, at least (I've almost given up trying to predict what's going to happen. Almost. I'll still make wildly sweeping judgements about things like cricket and the weather but cancer planning? F*ck that.).

Many of you in your fabulous messages have commented on how strong I am. I take this as a compliment, thank you, but I challenge any of you not to behave the same given the situation. If there can be any silver linings with what we are experiencing right now then I can say I feel very 'in focus' at this moment: I don't mean focussed in the concentration sense of the word; I mean that the lens is very much focussed on this life, right now. In a way it's quite wonderful...I feel very aware of where I've come from and what I've learned and what I have within me to come through this for all our sakes. I also feel that a lot of our shit has been pushed out of focus because it really isn't important right now. Every moment is a 'moment' and as much as that means we are making the most of the time we all have together it is bloody exhausting. I will give kudos to the Aussie life for some of this though: they surely know how to make the most of their now, and the Aussie way of life has rubbed off on me for sure (its those Southern Cross tattoos that sway me. I'm a sucker for those stars).

I took my eldest Darcey for a walk through Waverley Cemetery yesterday. She has been desperate  to explore it for a long time and we had quite a lovely time meandering through the graves. It is clear that she as a five year old has no negative concepts about death or burial yet - she wasn't scared, disgusted, worried or perturbed by anything we saw - she was looking at the shapes, colours, words, flowers, symmetry, the view, all the lovely things about where we were in that moment. We were discussing why sort of graves we might have (I'd have a giant leopard print star: Darcey would have a big heart). Her acceptance of the nature of the place was highlighted by the grave of a two year old we found, one covered in hearts, stars, gnomes, fairies and colours. Although I couldn't tell her why the little boy had died, she seemed satisfied and comfortable that he had somewhere where he was 'loved' (as she put it). The philosophies of Darcey Bunker - very real and very in focus.

I will let you know how chemo goes next week. Also I will try and make KB let me take some pictures. I mean, why the hell would he not want you to see it*?

I saw Gravity today - let that be this post's physics reference. Don't let go. ETC!

Helen xxxx

* I can think of quite a few reasons, but YEAH WHATEVER sod those. xxxx