Virus!

So far, throughout my chemo and beyond I have been lucky and haven't picked up any viruses or infections. However, finally, the germs have caught up with me.

My daughter got really sick - running a temperature of 39 deg C - and I, being the dedicated mother that I am (really?), refused help from the grandmothers, and took care of her. And the virus got me too.

At first it wasn't too bad. As I felt unwell, I eased off on my responsibilities (didn't feed the horses), dosed myself up on virus drops, and went early to bed. The next day I still felt unwell. So we sat in my bed with my daughter and watched Black Beauty. It was like one of those emotional tissue ads - but all that sobbing made me feel better.

Then it just went downhill from there. By day three I was running a fever of 39 deg C (that's unheard of in my case!), and at one point almost fainted when I got out of bed. The scary part was that I was no longer able to keep up with drinking enough water - I can now see how people like me just end up in hospital on a drip. In fact, if someone had offered a drip, I would have gladly accepted.

After about 3 days in bed I finally resurfaced. But the virus left me weak, and set me back about 4 weeks in my chemo recovery. Symptoms, such as cracked skin in my nose (ouch!!), which I thought were history, were suddenly back with a vengence. The naturopath increased my dose of vitamin supplements - without these the situation would be even worse.

It's now one week since I have ventured out of bed, following my virus, and I am still struggling. I feel weak and fatigued. I need about two naps per day, the sore throat recurs, and I never know whether the virus is coming or going.

I know that it won't last forever, but it has surprised me how weak I still am, seven months after finishing chemotherapy.

Take a number

Sabina has been really sick yesterday.  She is better today, but still sitting in bed.  And drawing.  And she needs a sharpener for her pencil.  Well, we've just arrived at the farm and I am busy busy busy.  Busy lighting fire, busy unpacking the car, busy putting food in the fridge.  Busy.

"Mama, I need a sharpener", she pleads.

"Oh Sabina, take a number", I say jokingly.  She thinks about this for a moment, then says "so, what number am I?"

For a split second, I am stumped.

"Number 2", I recover.

But wait, it gets better.  A few minutes later, she needs something else.

"Mama, you need to colour in the spider.  What number am I this time?", she asks.

"Number 4", I respond.

"Ok, and who is number 3?", she quizzes.

"My coffee!"

At this point, I'm laughing, and add "Sabina, that's going straight to the blog".

"To where?", she looks at me puzzled.

"To the blog", I straighten up.

"Oh, is that where the santonym went?"

Gone paddling

Last night Sabina and I drove up to the farm. Peter arrived some time later, and by that time, Sabina was asleep. This morning, she woke up all excited and asked "where is Papa?". Gone. Gone paddling.

The little girl was undisturbed by this, and went off, merrily to play with her toys. Half an hour later she emerged with her soft toys stuffed into the guinea pig tunnel. "Look Mama", she said, "they're paddling".

Yell for Cadel

 Cadel Evans has won the Tour the France.  Did we watch the Tour every night?  Yes we did.  (Ok, I watched it not every night, and only till 11pm at best, when I would do the classical nod forward.)  Were we sitting on tenderhooks?  Yes we were.  Did we get really excited every time Cadel looked like he had a good chance?  Yes we did.  Did my husband sit up at night at the farm, scanning Tour updates with his phone and then gave me updates when he finally crawled into bed?  Yes he did.

So, when they announced that Cadel will do a celebratory ride to Federation Square, I announced that I am attending.  (I have a really serious aversion to crowds).  The crowd on either side of the designated track was already lined three people deep when I got there.  By the time Cadel rode by, it was about eight deep.

But I did see Cadel ride by.  I saw his yellow jersey, I saw his bike, and I saw his genuine smile.  The crowds were huge, but it was worth it.

Real farmers

Ok, it's official.  We are now "real" farmers.  Six cows - I mean steers (farmer speak) - have arrived at our farm.  They spent the first 3 days sulking at the gate, but now they have discovered grass, the dam, and that special treats come in yellow buckets.

Secret women's business

Oh my wordie lordie yes! My period is back! This is, I think, the best news I have had since finishing chemo.

Before I started chemo, my husband and I went through an agonising few weeks thinking about chemo and it's implications. We had always wanted more than one child, so our family was, (in medical terms) incomplete. The doctors were strongly recommending chemo, but of course they couldn't force me to have it. Ultimately it was my choice.

If you have chemotherapy at my age, there is a 40% chance that you will end up infertile afterwards. 40%. That's really high. If you have Zoladex injections (which I did have), then this is lowered to about 25%. That's still very high.

Ever since I finished chemo, the fertility topic has become "taboo". My husband and I tried not to talk about it, not to think about it, the mothers didn't ask. Fathers stayed positively oblivious. I was left to stew about it by myself. Of course, I know the power of positive thinking. So, I tried not to stew. I tried to think positive. I tried to imagine that this day would come. But still, you have moments when you stew.

So, now that I am staring at ... well, never mind what I am staring at. Now that my period is back, I am absolutely over the moon. I am starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel. I feel I am on the home stretch. Green fields of fertility are stretching out lazily in front of me. Life pumps in my veins.

Whether we actually expand the family, or not, is irrelevant. That was always just half of the story. It's about avoiding osteoporosis (as a horse rider, that's quite important), it's about feeling good, it's about feeling young. It's about having the choice.