November was anxiety, confused and a dense mass inside of me both literal and metaphorical. Every time I told someone I was exhausted by it all. So I didn't, I delegated and I delayed.
December started off exciting. I was genuinely looking forward to my radiotherapy and prepared for it by watching far too many videos about radiation incidents. By the end of the month I was thoroughly fed up of being driven around and all I wanted was my car, my bed and my Ted.
Nottingham City Hospital was a nicer place to stay than I expected.
I brought in the new year with friends, bubbly and buffet food. Definitely a good start to the year, as I felt unexpectedly normal. January continues with my daily zaps and I slowly grew a comforting red mark on my back as we killed the little bugger with lasers.
By February I was temporarily back at work. I'd missed it so much whilst I'd been doing what I could on my laptop from the hospital hotel. Shame I couldn't pop out of the lab for a creative writing workshop or a canteen lunch. Throughout the month my anxiety about my surgery grew and many an afternoon I was sent home to the seaside to have a cry and a nap recuperate.
As February turned into March the lump on my back turned into a hole and I entered spring high as a kite, hobbling around and watching disaster documentaries 24/7 from my mountain of strategically place cushions. I think a lot of March was a blur, for the best, as twice a week Kaz would cart me to Nottingham for a dressing change. They started off horribly and steadily improved as I healed.
Banned from my room. Cause you know he'd put a peet in my hole.
April was another blur. It's only looking back that I'm truly aware of how out of it I was in this time, who let me buy a car on morphine? I kid, I love her so much and I was actually okay to drive on the morphine I was on. Trust me, I watch a lot of Police Interceptors.
In May I got back to work. I had a week when I still had my vacuum dressing on. Was I insane?? Or was I just on morphine and eager to be "normal" in time for harvest? (spoilers: I am still not normal)
June was a month of getting to know every nurse at my local GP and having absolutely no routine whilst I got used to being back at work. My hole was shrinking by the day and I was so please to finally be able to have proper showers. Even if I could only have then just before my dressing change.
July had two exciting things. One, my hole was FINALLY naked. No more dressings and I had a tense few days whilst the final tiny scab fell off. Two, harvest? What the fuck why is it harvest in July? I was definitely settled back at work but once the dressings were off I was a lot more aware of how fucked my core was. My colleagues did all my lifting bags of seed for me and I got told off for even thinking of manual handling.
Harvest blurred August in a way similar to how morphine blurred April but it was definitely the harvest I needed. Relatively quiet (looking at you 2020), I wasn't driving to Buckingham every week (how was that 2024, it feels decades ago) and nothing was on fire (damn it, 2022). I wasn't at 100% so I'm glad we could cope without me being at full capacity. My colleagues are amazing.
Would harvest be complete without having a cry in the site garden?
September arrived and harvest waned. We got back to normal hours and I could switch my attention from surviving harvest to getting my fitness back. I even did pilates (affectionate) and pilates (derogatory) but the highlight of the month was being taken on a spa day by my amazing housemate. We were dumplings for the day.
October was my chance to do something for Kaz after all she'd done for me this year. There wasn't much I could think of but we have been meaning to decorate the living room so whilst she was on holiday with family I called in the troops and we turned the living room into a cozy autumnal loveliness. With much plotting and scheming and even some scheming and plotting. It felt good to Do Something. I even managed to not bother my back during the process.
Ted helped.
And now it is November again. I am tired. It's been a hell of a year but at least this week I have a blocked nose rather than a cancer diagnosis. So it's definitely an improvement. This year has made me weirder, and exhausted but also without a lingering lump of cancer in my back.
But more than anything it's made me appreciate my wonderful friends who I hope I can give even a fraction of support and love to that they have given me this year. I'm not sure I can say anything more than that.
