Archive for the ‘Breathing is Overrated Anyway’ category

Please Excuse Me

February 11, 2007

Im not dead yet.

Just busy falling to pieces.

Clean up in aisle 3.

Fuckers Are Messing With Me

January 30, 2007

So welcome to my 3 new arrivals to the blog. That I know in real life. Two I helped, one found it herself (little miss smarty pants).

Thankyou Dickhead for pointing out the error in my last post. And thankyou for lying to me just to see my reaction. And please kindly tell me next time it IS your finger in my ass and you choose to “just see what youd do” when you dont admit it. You. Sick. Fucker.

Can the person who said they cried twice in one night reading my blog please not? Its not that bad, surely? No seriously, what I wrote about you was not supposed to do that. And either was the bit about dying. Im here now, lets just enjoy that, and worry about the rest later, mkay?

And as for the one who said he sat there crying like a bitch – suck it up baby and get me my coffee! Cmon, the only thing you like more than my sexy arse is my smart arse!

That new ad with Sigrid freaking thornton? Whom i hate? Your WRONG biatch. Most Smoking related illnesses are NOT slow and painful ways to die! Its freaking FAST! Didnt you read my “facts” post? Theres something thats NOT “whats good for you”. Fuck off. You Suck.

What the fuck is this new andrew okeefe show? Rich List? This has apparently been on before? Shows i dont watch much tv, hey. What I want to know is, if those 2 guys have supposedly never met before, why do they dress in tandem? And how flamingly gay is the skinny one? And how weird are his eyebrows? And does he get his make up done by bert newtons makeup artist? And if so, why? Actually, WHY is a very apt question to ask about the entire show. I dont get it. I know i didnt watch much, but still. And why is the skinny guy trying to jump n hump the fat one all the time? I didnt hink even gay men liked strange men jumping all over them. Particularly ones with bert newton makeup on. On national tv.

96.1fm i love you but that K-Sera girl fucking pisses me off. Stop talking about your “home boys” and your “peeps”. You sound like a fuckwit. And interviewing and editorialising are two COMPLETELY different things. Look one up. Id suggest looking them both up but im not sure you can spell. You make me cringe. I get gangsta speak. I like rnb, hip hop and rap. i like crunk. i know who tupac and biggie et al are (and am aware of the hilarity of using et al in that sentence). I know you do. But you sound as try hard and ridiculous as those callers “giving a shout out to all the 2142 boyz, representin it yo!” K-Sera, i may be wrong, but behind all that “frontin” and “representin” you do, you can construct a coherant sentence. You can use words that arent monosyllibic. I think you may have gone to school. Uni even. So please, your not fooling anyone. You arent black, your not from detroit, and you arent tough. In fact, when I hear you speak, i get visions of you holding something small, cute, and fluffy. And liking it.

Im in a weird place. Stuff is happening. And not happening. And my brain wont think, the fucker. Id give alot just to be able to think again. I dont like not being smart. I know many of you wouldnt believe it, but im actually clever-like.

Well.

I was.

Cancers a cunt.

and normally i dont even use that word.

on a side note, the arabic seems to suddenly be sinking in. weird.

maybe it was all those fucking UBER hot lebbos I was hanging out with on sunday morning. phwoar! i mentioned my little addiction to dickhead, and how hot those arabs are, and all he did was laugh. the little fucker didnt even offer himself up for me to satiate myself with. damn. damn his frustratingness. damn their hotness. and by that i mean GOD DAMN!!!! lol. those lips, those eyes, those muscles, those accents, that confidence……

ehem

yes mr-you-know-who-you-are, i do remember your saying. this leb constantly tells me that i dont know how hard it is being a leb, having to film it everytime he fucks, so that at the end of it he can share it with his mates…….. a copy for each defence lawyer.

FACTS

January 27, 2007

Dickhead and I discussed today the fact that he is in my will. He knows he gets something, but he also knows I will not answer how much. And for those of you who worry, dont. Bugalugs gets almost everything, and will be fine. Lucky for me I’m an Accountant, and Financial Planning is something I PRACTISE and not just PREACH. With out implying anything about my financial status, Im smart enough to have Life Insurance, and have done since before he was born. Plus I own my house, and so in sydney (even out here in the west) you know theres at least 300K in the sale of that no matter what. And seeing as he will be cared for by my parents who are financially sound and will support him themselves, and I interrupt here to say sucko mum n dad, you were enjoying this past year since your youngest moved out, huh? (btw my sis will be out of hospital soon, and moving back in with them for her rehab stints) So Bugalugs will be pretty well set for life (once hes old enough to have one) even if they DO dip into it to finance raising him. (which I dont have a problem with) So as you can see, its all sorted. What was I saying? Oh yeah, so Dickhead scores some cash (no bumping me off early so you can collect, mkay babe?)

The point is (or at least was going to be when i sat down to type, before the rambling started) that in discussing it with him, and a couple of mini-chats ive had with others these past few days (and oh yeah, DH got out of hospital this week – hense the lack of me posting) its made me think that for the benefit of friends who dont really DO these conversations, and for those wondering but too lazy to google, lets give some facts on where im at, and where im going, mkay?

Yes I do remember I was drafting a “facts” post a while ago but……SHADDUP. lol

So firstly some statistics on Lung Cancer, and what it is, and how you get it. (besides being the “worlds biggest retard with the most fucked up luck in the history of ever” like I am)

For starters, Lung Cancer is the leading cause of cancer deaths basically around the world, in both men AND women. If your gunna get cancer, and want to live, this is NOT the bitch you want. (although there are more unpleasant ones to endure, this cunt is deadly). Less than 15% of those diagnosed with Lung Cancer live for 5 years.

Yeah, you heard right, read it again, it doesnt change.

Theres 4 main types, and no, im not spilling the exact details of mine here. Suffice to say I cant say it, let alone spell it! lol. 85% of lung cancer is caused by ciggarettes. That leaves 15% of other causes, which are heaps, and who gives a fuck really. I guess those who keep smoking, and yes i was included in that category until recently, are foolhardy (but my dad still smokes 2 packs a day as at this very moment) or lucky.

SYMPTOMS – this includes some scary news folks, that i didnt know until a few weeks ago. 25% of sufferers have NO SYMPTOMS at the time of diagnosis. Different types have different symptoms, and not all sufferers have all the symptoms, or even the same ones as another patient. The main ones are coughs, coughs that wont go away, coughs that change, coughing up blood, chest pains, shortness of breath, wheezing, and infections like bronchitis and pneumonia (shaddup about my spellin, got it?) Lung Cancer is a fucker at spreading to other parts of the body and developing secondary cancers. Other symptoms that arent so common are growing extra boney bits (yes thats a scientific term, shaddup) aneamia, muscle weakness, weightloss, fatigue, skin irritations and brain function deterioration.

right

Have we all finished laughing at that last one? Can we move on now please?

Yes, that is one im suffering from. We’ll come back to that in a second (if my brain hasnt deteriorated too far by then, mkay?)

On a personal level, most of those, no wait, all of those are things I am experiencing. Some others too, because of the treatment im undergoing.

Whats really getting me down at the moment is the brain thing. I know Ive bitched before about my memory being fucked, and being unable to remember the word i want to use (sometimes quite simple words) and being unable to focus on the conversation at times, even when there isnt any hotties walking past. But now, well, its worse. I keep messing up words, saying things i never meant to say, and things that dont make sense. I keep forgetting what im on about.

I cant drive. I certainly cant park. I have no depth perception. I cant judge how fast im going. Im a speed freak, and do at least 20km over the limit everywhere I go, and the other day i was doing just under 80 in a 110 zone. No, not heavy traffic. No, not double demerits. I thought I was going fast. Granted, it was at night, and i cant see so well at night any more. Im getting confused as to which side the indicators are on (yes my car is german and has them on the wrong side, but im used to that. Or i WAS until about 5 days ago.)

Not being able to drive anymore will be very hard. Dickhead and I have trips planned to the sth coast, canberra, and the hunter. Guess he will be doing the driving huh. (and look – ner ner ni-ner ner my brain hadnt packed it in yet)

So DH is going overseas for treatment for his own thing in mid march. My birthday is the 3rd, so he will be here for that. And my birthday was the estimate of the end of my “useful” time. By useful, i mean the time where i can do shit other than lying there like a lump. He asked when I got sick, how would it go. Im calling it “when I get sick” coz im retarded and am pretending like im not sick now. Im also saying “when Im gone” and “when im finished with you” because saying ‘when im dead’…well….its just not something i can say without getting all weird. Its my impending doom, and fuckers, Ill deal with it my way, mkay? If you dont like it, feel free to swap and show me how its done. Ill swap back once you have, promise! *crosses fingers behind back and looks around, whistling innocent-like*

Well folks, luckily, when I get too sick to annoy my friends with my fucktardary, the end will come quickly. Im stubborn and strong, and will fight a good fight to stay active as long as possible. When I cant continue, I really wont be able to continue. I will basically be a useless lump for a week or two and stop breathing. That last week or so will be a cunt of a time, and i will no doubt be glad its over. There is little about this life that i will miss, but that which i do, will break my heart. Im not scared of dying really. Im just furious at myself for failing as Bugalugs’ mum. Everyone else will deal, and will cope, and will get over it, but something like that affects a kid forever. And no half decent mum on the planet can ever accept that they are doing that to their kid. And thats all i have to say about that, ala Forest Gump.

So DH may just miss my final demise. And before you say or think anything, stop. Make sure its nothing bad. Yes, part of me wants him to be here for me, the selfish part, ill admit it. But also part of me wants him to miss it. I dont want him to have to see me like that. To have to deal with anything more awful than need be. And this treatment thing hes leaving me for is something that could be so so good for him, and I will not deny him that. I wont deny him the chance to get better. No matter what the cost to me. However, I did say I would not condone him leaving while im still good! I cant stop him, but yeah, id be mighty pissed! Truth be told, I desperately hope that it works for him. I honestly do. Its not just words, my own situation has made me want this chance to come good for him so badly its ridiculous.

ehem

back to me, coz im such an attention whore and this is MY blog, dammit!

So like I said, Lung cancer = bitch that bites BIG TIME. Stats quoted to me by a doc were 4/5 die within 2yrs, and 1 in 20 live past 5. awesome, huh! lol. yes, your allowed to laugh. Thats what stops the crying!

In the spirit of that comment, which is how i am in real life, and how ive always been, i leave you with this (seeing as that was such an awful, depressing, shitty, upsetting and heavy post)…………..

Min (my best friend) and I used to joke around a year or so ago, before i was diagnosed. Im one of those people who say theyve done just about everything (like that last meme thing shows lol) except ive ACTUALLY done the things I say i have. Ive fit an awful lot of living into my nearly 27yrs. I often wish i hadnt done most of them, but cest la vie. Anyhoo, when talking about all the shit ive dealt with in my life, i often commented to her that there were only 3 things left that i hadnt done or had happen to me: cancer, a heart attack, and dying – at least one of which was guaranteed to happen!

So either Im now going to live forever, or i won a bonus!

You never know, maybe ill be super lucky and get to be a REAL winner and get all three!

Hey – it could happen.

I’ll open the books at 5-1…………

Im going straight to hell

January 16, 2007

Ok, so there are already a million reasons why that statement is true, and the next few blog posts will probably only add to that, but in particular THIS time, that statement is true because i have just had a massive fit at the almighty.

Thats right.

That sadistic bastard has pushed me too far this time, and the smug motherfucker just got a hell of a freaking sermon on the reasons why he should stop being such a fucking cunt.

And i guess the previous paragraph just earned me a few extra degrees of teh hawtness that isnt the good kind once i get to freaking pergatory too. To that i say bring it on.

So my lovely little sis is recovering from her serious-traffic-snarl-inducing accident (like me she likes to see the fun side of tragedy, hense her delight at causing a couple hundred innocent people to be more than an hour late to whatever it was they wanted to get to, all thanks to her). Upon this news of improvement, many of you would be reading with a happy smile curling your lips at the corners of your mouth, thinking to yourself “im so glad shit is finally going right for Honey”

Well stop right there, oh foolish ones! The great fucktard in the sky has other plans for me and mine! MIN, my bestie, has often commented that my friendship isnt something you enjoy, so much as survive – at least if your lucky, which you usually arent around me. So far she is the only friend to last this long without some hideous misfortune befalling her. She regularly gives me a hug goodbye and tells me she hates me and isnt my friend. Just so she makes it safely to another day of hanging out with me. She often calls to invite me somewhere, and is sure to follow it with “just so long as you realise – this isnt coz i like you or nothing”. You may think this harsh, but a girls gotta protect herself!

So as im sure you can appreciate, im not having such a good time with the fact that when I rang Dickhead this morning to see if we were having coffee/whatever today, that his cousin answered his phone with the fact he had been taken to hospital in an ambulance, and in broken english answered my question of “is he ok?” with “hes bad”.

Dickhead has since heard that I called, and rang me briefly to reassure me that hes still alive, but that was 5 hours ago, and that was about all he said. I still dont know whats going on. I know Im overreacting and that he will be fine, but its just not the point. I know this is a part of his THING (his version of my cancer, in that its what makes him fucked up and sick, but it isnt cancer, nor is it my place to say what it is, beyond it being something that is a huge consideration in his world that others cant tell by looking at him or meeting him, but is there all the same and affects everything he does).

I know his THING means that he will be less than perfectly normal and well and fine sometimes. Im ok with that. Its probably going to sound selfish and stupid and ridiculous, but its how I feel. Its really messing with my head.

On one hand, Im actually really worried about him. I dont like not knowing stuff. I dont like not knowing how bad it is, if he is ok (not just physically) and i hate not being able to do anything productive to help. I worry that it could be more than a hiccup. More than just one of those things that happen. I worry that it could be a big deal.

Thats where I get selfish. Its not just for his sake that I hope its a glitch, but for mine too. Of course I dont want it to be a big deal because I dont it to be bad for him, but I also dont want it fucking up my time with him. Theres alot planned between us at the moment, and time to actually have those planned things happen is all but here. For starters, theres something I want that he promised would happen tommorrow. (no not the freaking movie, its good aurs and we will see it but im talking about something bigger and better than that). I dont have forever. Delays in me getting these things i like and want and have waited for and looked forward to are not something im going to like. And i dont want to get grumpy or upset or bitter at missing out or having to wait, because it isnt his fault, its not like he wants to be in hospital, and thats just plain childish.

Still. I cant help feeling like its a carrot im never going to get. Its not the first time this carrot has appeared. Its such a pretty carrot. My mouth is watering for it. I dont know how many more times I can watch it disappear without succumbing to the urge to bite someone.

Its also doing my head in.

I thought i had this whole thing figured out. Well, not all of it, but enough to function and live. There were steps that were going to happen. They had an order, were set out in front of me, known, acknowledged, accepted and dealt with. Prepared for.

1. I was going to have some time where I was OK. This time I would spend on planning things and making sure things were set to forget, so tht later when I wasnt able to, i wouldnt have to coz it would be done. Things like who would look after Bugalugs. Where my money would go. What hospital Id be in. How far I wanted doctors to take things. What country Id be spending eternity in, and what religion Id be sent off by.

2. I was going to have some time where I was OK/a little sick. This time I would spend on doing whatever I wanted. Having fun. Doing the things I wanted to do in life. Spending real quality time (not quantity, but QUALITY) with Bugalugs. But mostly, having fun and being happy. Thats where we are now, folks.

3. I was going to have some time where I was a bit sick, and needed spates in hospital. This time I would spend making sure Bugalugs knew all the things I wanted him to know and learn from his mum. Having what fun and happyness I could, but less energetic etc than the last point, because I wouldnt be able to handle it.

4. I was going to have some time where I was quite sick and cant do much. This time I would spend making sure those I care about know it. Making sure that I spent what time I could with people, and saying whatever needed to be said. Someone told me of how they had been spending this time for them, that they had been doing all the grieving for their life, their missed opportunities and the things that were not to be, their lost future, and grieving along with their family and close friends, helping each other grieve the loss.  He told me it helped him to deal with his demons, and face dying. It helped him feel better about knowing he was hurting those he loved, and knowing theyd be ok when he was gone. (thats a big thing to deal with you know. it needs a whole other post, but knowing your going to hurt your loved ones by dying, watching them try to cope and be strong for you, its awful) Their family recently told me how much it helped them, too. That now he has passed, the pain was easier to bear. That although it felt a little odd to not hurt as much as they thought they would, and to hurt less than at other dear ones passings, that it also felt good to be able to have said goodbye properly, truly properly, and said it to him when he could hear it. They all agreed it was better to have the chance to say goodbye and have him hear it, than to say it to a headstone.

5. I was going to have some time where Id be very sick. This time I didnt know what Id do with, and would just do what I could when i got there.

6. Then Id die.

I know that sounds morbid and weird and bizarre. I dont care. You deal with death your way, ill do it mine, mkay? When you all get there lets see you do it better. Until then shut the fuck up or just stop reading. Whatever.

This was the plan. This was how it was going to be. Planning, fun, seriousness, sickness, dead. Cant get more simple than that.

Now Dickhead could be really sick. Even if its just a bit, just enough to fuck him up for a few weeks, those few weeks could be too long for me. They could mean i miss all my fun with him.

I dont want to miss my fun with him.

I know i have Bugalugs and my friends, and they matter alot. In no way does it diminish how much I value them. But I want Dickhead too.

I want my happiness. The possibility that my happy plans are going to get messed up is not something im coping with AT ALL.

That was my plan you asshole. You fucked with my life so i had to make such a shithouse plan. Dont mess with me again. Dont mess with my man. Dont. Just fucking dont.

The plan was good. I could cope with the plan. Dickhead getting sick is not in the plan. Today has already messed with the plan. He needs to be 100% back to normal tomorrow morning, got it?

Damage to the plan is causing my world to spin. Im spiraling out of control. Such a small thing I know, but my coping with this has been such a fragile thing. Dont pull on the loose strings. I know theres alot, and they look very enticing, but just dont pull them ok?

Im only just coping with this cancer bullshit. Im holding it together, ok? Im coping. Im putting on a brave face. But it all hinges on the plan.

And now maybe the plan is wrong. Broken.

I cant do another plan. I dont have it in me. Im tired, worn out, at my absolute limit, cant tak no more.

Please excuse me folks. I think I need to cry.

No, better yet, lets get angry. Its much more Honey’s style!

Fuck this holy trinity shit. This father, son and holy spirit things is too much. The Almighty can be summed up as just THE CUNT.

Go on, god. Punish me to an eternity in hell. Itd fucking be a walk in the park compared to the shit you pull on me up here. BRING IT ON, BITCH.

Oh yeah, and Angels? You who are supposed to guard and guide us to a better life? GAME ON MOLES.

HOO-FUCKING-RAY!!!!!!

October 19, 2006

IM GOING HOME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I’m Still Here

October 19, 2006

Some bastard must have found the pile of cash under my mattress, because the docs have decided to squeeze some more funds outta me, along with a few more pints of blood, not a bad exchange for copious amounts of pain to be inflicted. I should be grateful, right? Well thats what Dickhead says. He reckons if it was him, he wouldnt whinge at all about how much pain he was in, how sick he was, how tired he felt, he’d be too grateful that there was a chance he could be fixed. Which is a pretty big statement for him to make, seeing as he is never satisfied & happy unless he has something to whinge about.

For some bizzare reason, this past couple of days treatment has really taken it out of me. Im knackered. Absolutely fucked.

Not long to go now.

ETA on last treatment:      who the fuck knows

Bugalugs’ Birthday:             3 sleeps

End of stupidity:                  5 sleeps

Hugs from Dickhead:           5+ sleeps

Its All About Tuesday – And That Would Be Today

October 17, 2006

So first up is a thankyou to the ONE person who offered advice on my problem. Min, your a legend. But it didnt help much. sigh.

Next is the news that even though the countdown on me leaving hospital reached 0 this morning, im still here. So I guess that will have to go to +1 now. Its a play-it-by-ear thing, so i guess that bit of doctor speak can be translated to “whenever your cash and your ability to obtain credit runs out”. sigh.

Finally, I got my balls out of storage, and not only attended, but spoke at Bear’s funeral today. I hope its the last one of those for quite some time. And so, I leave you with this pic, taken 2 weeks ago when the guys kidnapped me and took me to the beach.

Bear