Author: woodstockbones

Has been eight days since the first wife had her first lot of chemo and in a nutshell, it went well.

Talking about nuts, I’m going well too for those that keep asking 😉

It was a fucking long day to be honest. I had to run around doing all my slave chores and other sheila shit like shopping. Cunt of a morning actually but the day could have been heaps worse.

The nurse sheilas at the cancer centre were very nice and thank Christ for that because we were there for 4.5 hours. Like every other human that’s gone through it, the first time they connect to the third tit (chemo portal) is kinda scary but Marjana survived to fight another day.

I can’t remember the exact chemo poison they injected but it was one of a few things they gave her intravenously along with some anti nausea shit, some steroids shit, some pain killer shit and a nice Marlborough Sav as a flush and being the wog she is I’m pretty sure they finished with about 250ml of virgin olive oil too.

The next lot of chemo will have an extra addition to stop blood flowing to feed the cancer. Bit of a tricky one because the blood flow is still needed to heal the surgery scars and joined colon inside. This still gives her heaps of pain.

This first chemo visit was still COVID times remember so we had to wear masks right up until we got our own little room area. Fuck having to wear a mask for the whole time… Lucky my first wife aint real ugly because there aint many other people to look at when the masks come off.

Probably the freakiest part was leaving with a bottle of chemo still attached that had to stay on giving little shot doses over the next couple days. It’s connected kinda awkwardly and I’m scared as fuck that it’s gunna get knocked by mistake and snap off like my cartilages in my knees.

So for the next couple days the ol’ girl does everything with a plastic bottle (looks like a baby formula bottle) attached to her by a tube that goes into her portal (that sticks out probably about 15mm). Inside that bottle is a fucking condom of all things. Well it looks like one to me and it slowly shrivels up and shrinks as the concoction transfers from bottle to first wife. The bottle is kept in a little cloth bag.

Because of the steroid she didn’t sleep fuck all that night but on a positive note when she woke up the steroids hadn’t turned her into Arnold Schwarzenegger. Aint real keen on muscly sheilas to be honest. I like feminine ones with soft curves and one now with three tits is better than having one with only two tits, so fuck yeah.

We weren’t sure what to expect as far as spewing and shitting. She was all good but they reckon she’ll get worse with the side effects and because she didn’t chunder I’ve attached a photo of our cat’s chunder instead. Cunt of a thing she is 😉

We went back on Friday to have the bottle she calls her wine removed and earlier that day QLD had changed COVID rules so no longer needed to wear a mask. It’s the small things like that and my first wife’s guts that matter.

I say her guts is small because she’s lost 10kg since this cunt of a disease came into our lives. She was already small as like a fucking midget anyway but instead of being a small roundish one like one of the Smurfs she’s now shaped more like Dopey from the Seven Dwarfs but with the personalities of all seven of ’em – Grumpy, Dopey, Doc, Happy, Bashful, Sneezy and Sleepy, depending on which time of the day/night it is. Some have stronger personalities and I’ll let you guys choose which ones they are 😉

But ol’ first wife is getting a bit more self sufficient every day but does still want me to put her socks on her so I can kiss her feet like the good slave I am.

On Saturday I took her and both our boys to a fun day at Kingston Park Raceway as part of a fundraising thing through her work. Four years ago this welfare group was set up when one of their colleagues Marylyn died and as a result they all put in $5 or more each pay. We attended the very first one and returned this year, more so as a sign of respect because as soon as they heard about Marjana getting cancer this very group immediately donated a couple grand to the GoFundMe page, and later had a bake sale with a similar donation resulting. They must have some fucken good bakers amongst them, I tell ya.

It was only the second time she had been out of the house and it was nice to see her reconnecting with her workmates and for them to see her in real life. My attempt to give a wise cool and very charismatic thank you speech was cut short at the end of the night by go-kart dust and fumes and oil and grease and wind and shit that blew into my eyes.

Visitors are still coming almost daily and sometimes even a few at once, but she enjoys it and appreciates it.

Another pamper package arrived today and if she aint the most pampered sheila in all of the world right now I’d be very surprised.

I’m supposed to return to work in a little over a week but will see how that goes, I guess.

On a positive note:

Our cunt of a cat hasn’t pissed on my clothes since I pissed on her so thinking I may start up an ‘advice giving blog’ with the first topic on how to stop ya cat pissing on ya clothes.

My first wife got to show off her wound to some other unsuspecting visitors. You should see how quick she is. Reminds me of a flasher flopping his cock out to unsuspecting victims in the park. She’s fast as fuck, man.

Because we are under the private health system rather than public, the chemo visits are done less than five minutes away from our home with free parking. This is heaps better for us than having to drive to the city every time.

Marjana is now sleeping with a couple less pillows and is down to three high.

Marjana laughs heaps including to this when I read it to her.

A mate of mine has a computer business called Supertech Computers and fixed my laptop, pretty much giving it new insides and although the attached invoice is a piss take he wouldn’t take any money. Anyone wanting new computers or even old ones fixed, please think about using Brett. He’s a good cunt, man and can be found at 0403326639 or https://supertechcomputers.com.au/.

I still love my first wife.

Couple negatives though:

Bella our dog who is a real good cunt and never pisses on my clothes and is happy as fuck just to hear me say her name or even look at her has somehow managed to transfer all Marjana’s lost weight to her guts and has started to limp so hoping it’s nothing serious.

Marjana noticed a little more hair coming out when she brushes.

Marjana’s skin is getting heaps dryer.

Marjana still sleeps with three pillows and not one and can still only sleep on her back.

It hurts when Marjana laughs heaps including when she laughs at these updates.

Our drains are backing up for some reason and my plumber mate is side tracked somewhat.

Our pet bird called Bird hasn’t died… maybe that should be on the positive part above but he’s a noisy cunt of a thing, so fuck him.

Anyone have any floor sanding contacts by the way?

Turned into a long read sorry, but like that awesome song Runaways by The Killers, I do tend to slip when the nights get wild.

Today is Chernobyl Day, otherwise known as Chemo Day… The first one ever for my first wife Marjana.

As far as first wives go, this one ain’t too bad. Well, she’d be heaps better if she didn’t have this cunt of a disease called cancer of course but beggars can’t be choosers so I’ll take what I can get… as will she (I think) 

Like any good housewife who, when arguing with her husband and is handed a vacuum cleaner partway through, immediately stops arguing because her natural instincts kick in and goes on a vacumming rampage; well this little first wife’s clothes folding skills have returned with a vengeance… so there’s a positive. Fuck yeah!

For being the hardest working person I know, I didn’t for a moment think she would take so much satisfaction in ringing that fucking slave bell or banging that fucking gravel thing to bring her modern day slave in to order. It’s quite disturbing ya know.

In her defence though she has been in a lot of pain of late. The lymp nodes in her neck continue to grow and cause massive discomfort. I’ve started watching the Star Wars series from episode one onwards and the deformed growth on her neck looks like some of the aliens from The Outer Rim.

I have worked out though that if I want to stay out of sight and out of mind I just have to remain a little behind her and to one side because she can’t turn her head properly to find me and if she does try to turn and find me she’s slow like the Wallabies to a break down and I can keep moving to remain out of sight. It’s actually a really good game. Usually a highlight to my day.

Last night she slept well for the first time in a fair while but usually her sleeps are just long blinks broken up by having to get up to ease the pain. If my first wife can’t sleep, she sees no reason why her poor li’l husband should sleep too aye 

So with that being said and as scary as it is to go get warlock concoctions injected into her third tit (aka chemo portal) it’s something she’s actually looking forward to. It’s the commencement of her counter attack and like any good wog, anything to do with attack comes natural to her.

I was going to draw a nipple on that portal thing but she cracked the shits and said words to the effect of ‘Fuck off you spastic retard. They will think I’m mental if I turn up for chemo and have a hand drawn nipple right where they’re going to inject me.’

I begged and said please a few times but nup and was going to try when she was asleep but she don’t sleep heavy or long enough.

Talking about sleeping though she woke herself up with a snorting grunt yesterday. Now that’s living aye 

Over the last few days she has had a continual flow of friends visiting and although they make her tired she has really really enjoyed each visit. I spoke to her about it last night and she said they make her feel better.

So thank you to those that have taken the time to visit because she enjoys it and when you’re here, her focus changes from being slave master to some other alter ego. It’s quite nice actually.

I’m not sure if y’all coming to check on the cook or to make sure I keep writing these updates because they seem to be a bit of a hit with the sheilas from first wife’s work… or maybe y’all just feel sorry for me haha.

Her chemo concoction is a mix of potions and spells but one important addition will be left out today and that’s because her wound from the operation is still healing. Three days with no pus so getting better, yay. But they still can’t add a blood thickening thing to stunt blood feeding the cancer because her guts wound is still recovering.

For those that know my ol’ man and the story about when his Chinese Connection mrs stabbed him in the guts sending him to hospital and her to jail, well my first wife’s stab wound is bigger and better, just the story isn’t as cool.

We’re new to this gig and no doubt millions of others (some we know) have already been dealing with chemo so we aren’t special in that sense but this is unique to us because it’s the first time we have dealt with it.

I wasn’t sure what to say in this update as apart from the commencement of chemo today, I didn’t have much to say but I will say thank you for still caring so much, thank you again to those that donated to the GoFundMe page, privately, for the flowers which make the house smell sweet and for the gift pamper packs and every other piece of goodness.

You’re a bunch of fucking good cunts, I reckon!

Ps: drying ya first wife’s hair is over rated.

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Quote of the Day:

First wife: Because they cut heaps of my colon out I get dehydrated heaps quicker.

Me: Not even, wife. It’s because you’re sneaking heaps more kisses now and it dries your lips out and spreads though the body.

First wife: What…?

Surgeon: (via txt) Good luck with next step tomorrow mate, I hope all goes well. If you ever need anything you let me know.

Me: (via txt) Cheers bro. If only you were our oncologist and GP and mechanic and builder and cook and butler and child. You’ve been a legend and ain’t heard the end of us yet.

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Not an update as already done 20 and I struggle to count even that high but my first wife wanted me to thank the person who nominated her for a gift pack from Redlands Centre for Women.

Thinkin’ I know who it is and that person knows that I know but Marjana still wanted me to publicly say thank you.

She cried like a motherfuck when the sheila came by yesterday. Think she felt bad as she turned up when ol’ wife looked normal and left with her looking like she just watched Lion King… poor girl.

That gift pack by the way, is on top of all the normal delivered gifts that we know who sent them, on top of all the work being done at our home, on top of all the food delivered, on top of all the lifts to pick up Dilan, on top of all the visits, on top of all the donations, on top of all the phone calls, on top of all the prayers, on top of all the flowers, on top of all the good cunts, on top of all the beautiful people in the world (including the ugly huas) and and and…

Yeah, nah fuck it, this can be update 21.

Because its an official update, killed me a food thief overnight. For those that don’t like seeing dead things or think its cruel, yeah sorry but fuck the dirty little thieving cunt who should’ve had an appetite for someone else’s garden.

Some primo feed pics which don’t include a mouse (yet), some visitors and a dog dreaming video for shits and giggles.

So the doctors keep saying you will have good days and bad days. Today was a mix of both with tears shed for good and sad.

We had appointments with both our surgeon and oncologist, followed by a visit to the chemo suite, which sure as hell aint like a good timing boutique micro brewery occasion.

Fuck man, I’m not sure if it’s comforting or sad to see how many people there are being treated for cancer. That’s some scary shit right there! It’s sad as because there’s a C word I love and a C word I hate and sometimes, like now; both words can share the same sentence… Cancer is a cunt.

It was a sad day because today’s appointments were very much a stark reminder that our lives will never be the same again!

The ol’ first wife was given a very true account of what is to follow as far as chemo goes… things like an explanation of the concoction to be used, frequency of blood tests, CT scans, fortnightly chemo treatments, including a couple days extra with some sort of funky bottle thing attached to her like she attaches herself to me when she’s parading me around in public like the proud owner of a fine very valuable stud stallion (objective v subjective), the effects this poison will have on her and the fact we we’re reminded that it’s not curable but is treatable.

Chemo treatment starts a week today.

I mean she still walks like a 118-year-old Croatian baka from a village in the rocky mountains, shuffling her feet but she’s recovered from the surgery enough to start chemo very shortly.

Chatting with our surgeon Peter Yuide is always a good time and today was no different. I told him he had a few interested sheilas when I posted his photo but also mentioned that he was married with heaps of kids. Fuck knows how actually, as he’s never home to make them.

A Quote of the Day…

My first wife: I try not to laugh because it hurts when I laugh.

Surgeon: That must be really hard with that bloke (me) around you.

Laughter 

Surgeon: Well I’ll always be here for you guys if you need anything but we wont need to see each other as often now.

Marjana: Oh no!

Me: Yeah your kinda like a cool pet we don’t want to give up, man.

Laughter 

Back home for tears of another kind. My first wife’s work colleagues have been nothing short of amazing, man! So many of them had already donated to our GoFundMe page and a Welfare group they have where they all donate about $5 per pay even donated another $2,000. Well today they had some sort of baking day thing and the funds raised were donated to us. I figured they’d make a couple or even a few hundred but they must be a bunch of fucking class bakers right there because there was another $2,000 raised. This shit just blows us away, man!

I walked upstairs and saw my first wife sobbing hard out and I thought some cunt had died. Seriously! She was pointing to her phone but couldn’t talk. I checked her phone and she’d just read the Facebook post from her work with pics of baking and the efforts people went to and well you get the picture. It was a beautiful expression of love and basically just niceness that’s come out of a sad as fuck situation.

But on a positive, no cunt died which I actually thought had happened. It’s the small things in life… you know, like not dying and shit.

Every day over the last week has seen visitors come by and all have been great visits for the spirit.

A piece of advice though for anyone planning on getting cancer… be sure to abstain from eating lasagne and/or quiche for about a year prior because it’s the modern day equivalent of bringing flowers. We have had half a dozen of each and I am now a self confessed expert in the variances of one from another and if ya don’t believe me check out my big fat guts in the video #fatcunt.

For a change, I made my first wife salata od hobotnice (octopus salad) yesterday and even bragged to our surgeon, saying being a wog a shit, he would appreciate this feed… and he did.

Marjana asked how to spell ’emotional wreck’ which I think sums up the day but, it could be an emotional wreck day without beer in the house, without food in the house, without family in the house and without some of the veges I grew in the house 😊

On a side note, I’m gunna be a hunting some living creatures soon because something is eating all my fresh veges and fuck them 😠