Reading Ok magazine and watching The Chase may make me a great asset on a quiz team, but it’s not doing much for kicks count or CoppaFeel. (Unless of course I apply to go on a daytime quiz and donate my winnings….hmm now there’s an idea!! Watch this space!)
But in the meantime it’s back to work. My target when I got my op date was to still make it to the baby show at NEC. Kicks count is the official show charity and I’ve always loved the baby show. Unfortunately my results appointment is the first day of the show so I can’t go for the whole thing but straight after the appointment me and my sister will be hitting the open road and making our way up the M6!
As always in the lead up to the show there is a lot of prep work to do! The most labour intensive being putting together 1500 goody bags. Usually this would be no problem, despite looking quite weedy I could give the worlds strongest man a run for his money! (I feel the need to brag I once got a washing machine into a skip ON MY OWN! Given washing machines have concrete blocks in, this is one of my proudest moments!) Shifting boxes around and packing pallets isn’t something I would usually give a second thought to. But as I am forbidden from lifting anything heavier than a full kettle I’m a bit stuffed. Time to call in the reinforcement!
My friends and parents have rallied round and stood and stuffed hundreds upon hundreds of Goody Bags. I did of course contribute in my own special way… I sat in the sunshine and put the leaflets together that needed to go in. Its a tough job but someone had to do it! There were of course breaks for cookies, coffee (made by them, I can’t lift anything heavier than a kettle remember!) and all important gossip.
So if you come to the baby show and get one of the goody bags (which do have some amazing things in!) know they havent been put together by me or our volunteers but by a group of friends and family members I don’t deserve! And if you’re lucky one of them will have dropped their Mars rice krispie cake in one!
On the boob front things have been relatively quiet. I have stayed away from hospital. Although I did have to phone in…and not just because I miss my nurse! Lying in bed I noticed I had a little spot. Naturally I did what any self respecting grown woman would do, I picked it! It appeared to be an ingrown hair. Bizarre. Not passing comment on anyone else’s chest but I don’t usually have hairs on mine. But things have been so up in the air the last few weeks I wouldn’t be surprised if a juggling ferret popped out of there! Anyway, I duly got my tweezers to rid myself of the offending hair. I started to pull and noticed the hair was particularly long…and wirey, it was then it hit me. SHIT! This isn’t a hair! Its a stitch! My internal stitches were making their way through my skin! I practically hurled the tweezers across the room, like the further away they were the quicker the stitch would go back in! Alas the stitch didn’t go back in. So I phoned the hospital (if this was the 90’s they would be 1 on my speed dial). They said it was dissolvable so if I left it alone it would be ok. So plucking it with tweezers isn’t a good idea?? Oops!
I suppose I should be grateful I haven’t started sprouting black wirey hairs on my chest, but I am excited about what other little gems this cancer journey may throw up!You can donate now to my Boobs and Babies Fundraising! Subscribe to this blog Follow me on twitter