30th May2005

By this time next week…

by Dutchcloggie

…we should know how JD’s surgery went. Hopefully she will be back from the OR with a bald head, a big plaster and a tumour removed. Hopefully she will be fine and the tumour will end up being removed completely and no further treatment is needed. Hmmm….that last bit is not going to happen I feel. They can apparently not remove it completely but only ‘debulk’ it.

I am getting a litle nervous now. Not scared (yet) but nervous. My parents have changed their holiday plans. They were going to drive to Italy with their caravan but they felt uncomfortable being so far away from me and JD in case something happened. SO now they are crossing the Channel from Holland to England with the caravan. This week they will be around the coast but by Saturday, they will come and set up camp here in Warwick. They’ll be here for JD’s BBQ and as long as she is in Intensive Care. And really, my folks like JD so they are not just here for me but also for her. I now realise I am pleased they are coming. My sister offered to come over as well but I was so busy when she was asking me that I just did not have the quiet time to sit and think about it. So I said that it would be a little too busy perhaps. So now she is not coming. I felt dreadful and really guilty for saying that. Especially because now that it is all much closer, I can see that it will probably be a bit difficult for me to be home alone in the evenings when JD is in hospital.

I am confused as to how afraid we need to be. Very very afraid (after all it IS removing a brain tumour) or should we be only a little afraid? I find that confusing. Perhaps I am afraid of embarrassment. We are throwing a BBQ for JD but for all we know, we might be overreacting to it all. No idea.

The doctor has said that JD will look like she has been hit in the face with a brick when she comes out of surgery. This is because they literally peel her skin down her face towards the nose so they can cut a hole in her skull to do the surgery through. Yuk. Poor girl. I wish it could be me, not her. I do not believe in God but if you do and you have a spare minute, just keep JD in your prayers. You never know, it might just work. Although you must realise that if it does not work, I will hold you and your God personally responsible for it!!!

16th May2005

And so it begins

by Dutchcloggie

A post from JD

..final exams to begin on Wednesday. And for those who are interested, the exams run as follows:

18th May PM Service Operations Management
19th May AM Entrepreneurship and Small Business
23rd May AM Marketing Analysis
1st June PM Finance
2nd June AM Operations Management


It doesn’t seem a lot but since the whole ‘going into hospital and having brain surgery’ thing kicked off they have seemed like an insurmountable task. But time passes and now they’re here. I can only do my best. But maybe my best will not be good enough as I am not happy with my preparation as I’ve found it very hard to concentrate without thinking about the surgery conveniently scheduled for the 6th.

I’m scared of not waking up. I don’t want M to be alone – that sounds really egotistical doesn’t it? I suppose it doesn’t matter for me as I would be gone but I want a few more tomorrows together. If I die it would be like I’ve been short changed by the bank of life. I’ve got new people to meet and a bestselling novel to write. Maybe some children? Definitely some cats. Fun job, money not important, but I’d like to be able to afford to travel. Taking M and exploring somewhere new. Just being in each others company. Outside somewhere lying on a patch of grass having a snooze. Anywhere really.

Maybe I’m just ranting because I’ve been inside working for the past few weeks. The tumour puts life in perspective. Exams are not important. I will not suffer too much if I don’t do so well but I would like to do well for my own satisfaction. I know what I am capable of achieving.

I’ve developed a highly tuned ‘shite filter’. If something isn’t important I ignore it. It amazes me how people can get wound up by the silliest things. I want to tell them to get over it and get on with their life. To do ‘something’ so that they don’t get to the end and feel that they’ve wasted their time. I understand that all too clearly now. If I live three more of my lifetimes again then I will be 84, which most would consider to be a good innings. So that’s another 63 years in which to do some decent living.

Or another 21 days.