I’m back!

Yes I know it’s been a while since last I blogged (I wonder if that word is in the dictionary) so before I get talking about what’s happening now let me give you a whirl wind tour on what has happened since last we spoke.

I had more chemo, swapped my hospital waiting room for a spot on the beaches of Barbados, Antigua and Jamaica for two months. I though, if I was going to be sitting at home for long periods of time, that home might as well be in the Caribbean.

Lucky so and so I hear you say, but before you get excited please note that this trip was shortly after chemo, my right leg was not working for me in the way that we both knew it could and to top it all my doctor told me not to go. In fact her very words were “if you choose to get on the plane tomorrow (yes we had an appointment the day before) you will be travelling against medical advice” and just in case that was not enough my GP called me (yes she rang me) and said she wanted to see me. My blood pressure was up and she didn’t think it was advisable for me to travel. Well through the tears this seemed like the very reason I needed to get on a plane and get the hell out of here. It was now official doctors make me sick!

And because it’s not like me to take any notice of someone telling me I am sick and therefore can’t... (I really have to arrive at that conclusion myself after all life is just a great adventure right?) I decided I would go anyway. What’s the worst that could happen? After all I had already done the hospital thing in Dominican Republic (Remember fractured ankle leg in plaster for the last week of the holiday).

With passport and ticket in hand I confidently boarded a plane bound for sunny Barbados. I felt like a radical fighting for justice, except on the eight hour plane journey and during the first week in the sun where I’m convinced mr lupus brought in reinforcements giving a whole new meaning to the word pain.

Shear determination or ignorance I’m not sure which made me stick it out for two months. I rested when necessary or when forced to and made the most of my hiatus and came back home safely only to be confronted with the welcome back committee of three to six months more chemo.

Having braved the elements, endured the tropical conditions, which you know is no mean feat for someone living with mr lupus, I was not going to allow mr lupus or his fellow conspirators (my doctors) to put me through the chemo hell I had endured for nine months previously.

I said no and chose freedom instead, but with all decisions we make there is always a price to pay! And I guess that is where the story begins…