So its been a while since I last posted.  And that is because I finally escaped from CUH and have spent the last three weeks at home with my family!  Steve took a week off for some badly needed rest – I genuinely do not know how the man keeps going.  Between taking care of me, the boys and holding down a full time job, he never stops.  Superman doesn’t even come close.  So we had a lovely Easter complete with an Easter egg hunt in Granny and Grandad’s, lots of nice lunches and brunches out, and watched Moana about 45 times because it’s Oscar’s current favourite movie.  That and Trolls.  I hate Trolls.

Last week we celebrated Mr Noah turning two.  The boys and I had a pjs and movies day and we had pizza for dinner in honour of the pizza we ordered the night he was born and ate while he lay sleeping on my chest.  I’m still wondering where those last two years have gone.  Then I spent Saturday and Sunday trying to bake and decorate the perfect Mickey Mouse birthday cake as well as other party bits. I won’t lie – there were tears over the uncooperative fondant icing.  For a cake for a two year old.  Who didn’t even understand it was his birthday. Yes, I have issues.

So all in all it was a good few weeks.  This week however has not been so good.  As you might remember, I was having a procedure to put a stent into a bile duct that was after becoming blocked by the tumour.  After I picked up an infection following the initial stage, it was decided to send me home for a chance to recover before finishing things.  So that’s where I was for the last three weeks.  The only flaw in that plan was the fact that it is next to impossible to sleep comfortably with a tube sticking out of your chest.  So while being at home made me feel better mentally, physically I’ve been an exhausted crock.  But as of today I am tube-free and stented.  So if all goes well I’ll be home again tomorrow and I might get some sleep!  I just need to keep everything crossed that I don’t pick up another infection – I do seem to be making an unfortunate habit of that.

This week also brought me on a visit to my oncologists office.  I knew going in that we’d be talking about starting chemo again so it was never going to be a pleasant trip.  But I wasn’t prepared for just how down I was going to be leaving there.  I need to start chemo again as soon as possible – most likely within the next fortnight.  The first round of chemo used the strongest drugs they thought would work and while it seemed to work for a while, the results didn’t last long.  My oncologist told me they hope to get the most mileage from the first drug – I should have got about six months from it; I got less than one.  So there’s no time for delay now.  I generally like my oncologist but this time I just couldn’t shake the feeling that he was looking at me and mentally calculating how many months or weeks I have left.  I normally don’t let myself think like that but I’m finding it very hard to pull myself out of it this time.  I don’t feel fierce and I don’t feel like fighting – I’m tired.

I know deep down that in another few days I’ll shake this off again, put on my big girl pants and get on with it.  Because really, what’s my alternative? But right now I’m just sad and frightened and not feeling very brave.  And that’s the honest truth.