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#27 The first wife fine tunes ‘annoying’

After two chemo sessions we’ve learnt a few things:

That the few days following Chernobyl sessions my first wife feels a little bit shit (pretty much over that weekend).

That if we want to socialise and do shit, we probably need to choose the alternate week to chemo sessions.

That the sheilas who work in the cancer care part at Mater Private Hospital in Redlands are all very lovely.

That the chair for support people like first husbands ain’t real comfortable.  Probably doesn’t help that we’re usually there for four hours, I guess.

That if I look at the sheilas in the cancer care centre with puppy dog eyes and make my stomach rumble, they will also give me a sandwich.

That it doesn’t matter where my first wife dozes off because she can do loud snorting snores that wake her up anywhere.

That although my first wife doesn’t recommend this weight loss program she has lost 10kg since this cunt of a disease entered our lives.

That people still care and very much still do give a fuck.

Cuzzies visiting so we can laugh at Lisa

That if we are organised, we can still do our backyard feeds and piss ups around the fire (even if first wives can’t drink piss with us).

That the record we thought would last forever on the pee tree has been broken and I am again the reigning champion, so fuck yeah!

That the one lot of neighbours on our street are still whinging cunts and all other neighbours are just good cunts.

That the first wife was probably correct and I was possibly wrong for maybe the second time ever.  We needed to cut down a couple trees in our backyard because they were fucking up our drains and house footings.  I was going to climb up and do them myself but a professional tree lopper managed to do it quick as, at a very good price and I didn’t even have to die or lose a limb by chain sawing a leg off instead of a tree branch.

Partial aftermath

That Marjana’s appetite is improving but she’s still finding out what she can and can’t eat, and that is forever changing.

That food tastes different to her now and she even thinks the wine I drink is now sour.

That my first wife has pissed me off and I’d use one of those Seven Dwarfs comparisons if I could but there isn’t one called ‘Annoying Dwarf’ so might have to start looking at Smurfs for comparisons because they got heaps more than just seven of the blue midget things.

I guess we all get pissed off with our spouses and going to work can be a good thing so you don’t spend all your time together and get pissed off for fuck all.  So when life changes like ours has it’s probably surprising it took us this long.

But on Saturday she pulled out that skillset that she excels in beyond belief. You know, the one called ‘nagging’ ‘cos she’s ‘Level Expert’ in that.  It’s one of her superpowers.

You know when your get like cabin fever and shit and you’re sharing that cabin with someone and everything they do pisses you off because basically they’re just annoying cunts… Well my first wife took it upon herself to blink as loudly as she could knowing that it was gunna annoy me.  She was blinking like a fucking spastic having an epileptic fit with a blink blink here and a fucking blink blink there and everywhere a fucking blink blink.

Having been snared by her trap in early 96, I know her pretty well and I’m not sure if it’s a cancer thing or just an age thing as the dear ol’ thing has got a few years under her belt now but fucked if I can remember a day ever that she blinked with such amplified results.

On a positive though, her eyes were open longer than the multiple milliseconds she spent blinking.

She is of course a staunch Catholic and her belief in God will see her/us through.

She even used it to trick me into forgiving her on Sunday by attending mass (even if it was via a livestream). She’s a cunning little thing I tell ya because she knows that at every mass there’s a part where you have to say hi or wish good will or something to people and because we were the only two in the room I fell victim to her crafty little plan and with her big beautiful eyes and her knowing smirk, I succumbed and gave her a kiss. Had to tell her real quick though that I forgave her before she could tell me first.

That’s a positive in more than one way too though because her guts might be all fucked up but her brain definitely ain’t.  She can even plan and shit… which by the way was what started it all because she wanted to plan the rest of the kitchen reno shit.

That leads on to the vertigo scene I guess, because although it ain’t brain related (its an ear thing with minute crystals being dislodged into the ear canal apparently) it’s very much a real-life interruption into our current real life situation, being that little thing we call the cunty cancer.

Vertigo physio session

So my first wife’s vertigo has improved heaps after doing some funky moves along the lines of ‘look left while sitting, lay down on right side, roll onto back with head still left, head to centre, roll back to right and sit back up’ but with long pauses between each part and of course I wouldn’t be the shit stirring cunt I am if I wasn’t continually doing annoying little things to her third tit and yes even her original ones while she’s not allowed to move, has to concentrate and her head is doing the ‘spin the bottle’ thing.  Some would argue I can be an annoying loud blinker myself, but I don’t fall into such nonsense.

Marjana is still getting regular visitors from our various networks and friend circles which always makes her happy. Just message or call her and you can come around so she can show you her scar. It’s one of her new hobbies now.

Her mobility is heaps better than it was but still not flash enough to hang out the washing which is mostly this slave’s work. I figured if I did a shit job her mobility might improve more but hasn’t worked yet, fuck it.

I may just be the Andy Warhol of hanging out washing

We have both joined some cancer groups on Facebook that are quite insightful as are all our mates who have battled this same shit.  It’s hard to comprehend how many people are affected by cancer, man.  It’s like waking up one day and being a ranga and when you go out in public you notice all the other people with red hair. Okay maybe it’s not that bad 😉  

I couldn’t be here to annoy my first wife if my work colleagues and bosses hadn’t been so awesome in accommodating our situation. It really does mean heaps, man so thank you but special thanks to some real good cunts Chris and Darni.

Chemo again on Wednesday so hopefully this one goes ahead.

I actually liked this tree but it was like killing one to save many

#26 A morning in the life of my first wife’s slave

Fuck, I’m gunna have to try write these more often as end up having too much to put in and turns into a long as read. But been a busy little cunt of late… you know doing slave shit.

I’m writing this a little backwards (yeah no surprise there I hear you say) as after a little hiccup following last chemo shots the first wife actually came good and felt ok… until she woke up this morning being chemo day again.

Oh man it was fucked as because she had vertigo and couldn’t move for fear of spinning out and spewing.  Now I’m always up for a good chunder but ol slave husband would’ve turned into slave husband performing spew clean up duties and fuck that shit, man.

Real speed video of getting spew bucket

So instead, my first wife’s first husband was the equivalent of an old fogeys walking frame being leaned on and grabbed like I seen you sheilas do at one of those male strip shows… okay, maybe not quite like that because the dear ol thing wasn’t too fussy on where she was grabbing, and in her defence probably had a different reason to grab.

Pull her up off the bed in slow motion not too dissimilar to the kids when we tell them to do the dishes…

Shuffle her into the ensuite where I’m sure if I could shit for her she would’ve got me to do that as well…

Find a ragggety old chair outside and bring inside to put into the shower for her to sit on…

Wash it cos it was dirty as an Argentinian rugby player in a ruck…

Use ‘The Force’ and somehow manage to get her into the shower without spewing…

Wash her hair and apparently the 28 in one all inclusive shampoo version that I used to use for everything from shampoo to engine oil isn’t ideal for this little princess’s hair and only one squirt per hair wash I’m told…

But then ya gotta do it again so why not use two squirts to start with? Fucked if I know but anyway, it got washed…

Ah, but then there’s another bottle for conditioner and away we go again… wash, wash, wash, clean, clean, clean or whatever it does…

Note to self…. apparently fondling her tits in the shower isn’t considered part of hair washing chores.

Anyway, I managed to survive that assignment in one piece…

Then a little a wipe with a towel and a pre hair drying artform needs to take place with a weird shaped cloth thing to fold her hair up inside and undertake a level three origami practice with funky folding techniques.

Then do the ol rabbiting (not this dictionary version ‘to have an uncharacteristically-large volume of sexual intercourse – especially with a partner – in a relatively short timespan; or even this one ‘the sport of hunting rabbits’ but the rugby term like a shuffling double movement) thing back into the room so I can undertake another awesome task of drying her hair using a hair dryer.

For any other dudes who want to upskill, just DM me because there is a whole raft of tactics to achieve this correctly.  I won’t bore you with details here but it is not a quick process…

Now, where was I?  Oh that’s right… slave chores including giving her kisses because secretly we’re happy as fuck that she hasn’t lost her hair (yet) due to chemo and I can still take the piss out of her/it.

With all these directions given and undertaken I’m forgetting the order of ‘em but somewhere along the line I fed her, always making sure her spew bucket was within arm’s (or vomit’s) reach, put her socks on and kiss her feet before doing so. For those who may be wondering, I am a weird cunt alright but not really the feet fetish sort of dude but she digs the ol’ foot kiss so I guess I can’t wait to do it all again.

Not my first wife’s breakfast but my first attempt at home made Thai Fish cakes. Gunna buy ’em next time.

Manage to get my first wife to her chemo session on time which turned into a ‘Yeah, nah not today, sunshine. Because when ya already dizzy as fuck and having ya worst day yet they don’t really want to poison you more. I get it.

So, have booked her in for a physio visit tomorrow to hopefully fuck off this vertigo and postponed her chemo session a week later.

My first wife has had vertigo a couple times and it really fucks her up big time aye. Kinda shit really.

Trying a West African chicken dish a few days ago thanks to a work mate Heather

Marjana’s oncologist is pretty onto it though, is highly rated within the cancer circles and also reminds me of a gnome.  She was adamant that I don’t refer to him as a gnome though so for anyone wondering the official line is ‘No he does not look like a gnome at all (but really he does).  Having said that, I reckon gnomes are cool as fuck.  They get to travel the world over when people steal them from gardens and take photos to send back to the owners. So for the record, if ever I call you a gnome it’s not a detrimental term but a term of endearment… not as much a term of endearment as ‘good cunt’ though. And anyway, this oncologist dude is really onto it and we’d be fucked without him, whether he reminds me of a gnome or not…. even though he isn’t a gnome (but does still really look like one to me).

Finish the morning off by taking my slave master, first wife, the ol’ girl aka Marjana back home to give her a feed and watch her sleep on the couch trying not to move at all so she doesn’t spew… and it ain’t even related to cancer for fucks sake.

Then write this blog.

Bit of a cunt of a day but that’s living!

And it really is, so fuck yeah!

When ya cat sees ya and yells at you to let her inside and feed her.

#25 No Bra Day disappointment

I can’t believe all the heathens out there who aren’t supporting ‘National No Bra Day’, today. I mean how can you wear a bra on a day like today?

By heathens, I do mean sheilas as most men are braless every day. If ever there was a day when one should be supporting such a great cause then October 13th is the day.

I’ve actually been outside in public a fair bit today to check who are the strong supporters by not donning the very thing that supports a woman’s tits; a bra.

My first wife Marjana has been calling me a pervert for many years and you know what, maybe she’s onto something. But fuck man, it ain’t all about me checking out tits, nips and the odd areola and shit ya know…

By not wearing a bra today all you sheilas would in actual fact be raising awareness about breast cancer and what do we know about cancer? Cancer’s a cunt, whether it’s bowel cancer like my first wife has, breast cancer, prostate cancer, testicular cancer or any other cancer for that matter.

Okay, maybe not every cancer because if ya born between June 20 and July 22 or there abouts then ya probably thinking Cancer the Crab star sign is a good cancer. I ain’t ever married one so not sure what the spouses of a Cancer Crab reckon though.

I was going to post some nip slips from the ol’ girl and a cool little vid clip I took of her wiping a table when braless but she gave me a look and said in not quite these words but I translated them to mean ‘Don’t you dare even think about it you perverted sick fuck and if you do I’ll chop ’em off and you’ll never get to appreciate them again.’

So not wanting to take any chances, I’m posting a pic of one of my baby lemons that started to grow really well and now looks sick as fuck; not to dissimilar to a nice young tit going sour with breast cancer I suppose.

Not a nipple but not exactly a healthy little lemon either

But anyway the day ain’t over, so I may yet head out for another walk to see if my faith in humanity is restored by seeing heaps of sheilas not wearing bras.

I’ll even take my first wife along because four eyes is better than two, I reckon.

For all you men out there, be you husbands, boyfriends, one night stand dudes or even if you’re a sheila whose into chicks then grab a tit, both of em in fact and if you do so gently enough you may just notice a little lump that’s not supposed to be there… not talking about a lump in the form of an erect nipple from the fondling either but sometimes good does come from bad.

As much as that would suck to find a cancerous lump, it’s worth identifying it earlier so it can be taken care of.

Play nice though boys and girls and for fucks sake don’t go grabbing just any sheila’s tit or having a little play if the sheila whose tit the body is attached to don’t want you to do it. Yeah, nah don’t do that, man.

It looks like this little ‘recovering sick sheila update’ is a bit different to others but still very relevant in a way, I guess… I think… maybe…?

But I’d better give a little update on my first wife’s situation because I wrote most of the last blog but sat on it a few days and by the time I was ready to post it, things had changed but…

After last Wednesday’s chemo session Marjana was fine.

She was also fine with her little chemo bottle thing attached for the next couple of days shooting in the juice right through till Friday when we returned to hospital for them to remove it.

She wasn’t real flash though when she woke up Saturday and was even more fucked Sunday and worse again on Monday.

She started to come good Monday evening and it’s nice to see life in her eyes again today.

I won’t go into specifics but her not feeling real good wasn’t anything to do with erect nipples, the surrounding areolas or the lovely little jiggle that happens underneath a top when a bra isn’t worn. It was more-so chemo related and the flow on effects of it.

Actually, to be honest I don’t even know if this No Bra Day thing is an Aussie thing, an American thing or an international thing but for any non believers out there I did find this on Wikipedia https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/No_Bra_Day.

We all know people who have or have had cancer and some of us have lost loved ones to this cunt of a disease. My first ever cancer loss was a massive one when my nana Eva Hedley died. In the end she had a few cancers but the first one she got was breast cancer and I remember it like it was yesterday. She was a beautiful person I still miss today, as do many other family members and friends.

Fuck you cancer!

I started to put links for anyone wanting to donate to cancer groups but don’t want to choose one over the other and I ain’t no expert so anyone who may want to donate, just google it.

To finish on a positive note though , my first wife may have bowel cancer but she ain’t got breast cancer or even testicular cancer for that matter. Right now, we’ll take what we can get so, fuck yeah!

Now I’m the first to admit I ain’t a breast cancer expert but personally, I do reckon all sheilas should support this great cause every single day of the year.

Disclaimer: no tits were harmed in the writing of this blog.

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#24 Chemo effects suck

No updates for a couple weeks and that’s probably a good sign because nothing significant has happened… that is if you don’t count waking up every day and being alive because that is indeed very significant for all of us, including my first wife and you reading this of course.

The ol’ girl continues to get better by the day and even surprised me a couple days ago by giving me avocado on toast for breakfast which was a pleasant change from the last couple of months but check out the holy bread 😉

The holy bread

She managed to put her own socks on both feet but refuses to do so because I don’t kiss her feet when she does it herself.

She can now load the dishwasher and never seen her looking so sexy 😉

She can also load the washing machine which is a bit of a mission but I tell her it’s like modern day physio so she really needs to practice that shit daily.

She now eats like an eight-year-old skinny boy which is a big improvement though from when she ate like a baby chicken still in an embryo.

She’s folding washing and that people, is another lovely sight to see.  Fuck yeah.

She spends a bit more time outside 😊 although out of the sun and wind ☹ I actually think she goes outside to hunt me when I try hide from her in the garden.

Love this pic

She walks more and has a little more energy.  Nothing like the Energizer Bunny though but better than the sloth like creature she was (without the sloth body though).

She can now cough which if you haven’t been able to do is a very nice when needed.  She still grabs her guts like she used to do with a bottle of fine Marlborough Sav but a cough is a cough.

She can now sneeze without shitting herself all down her leg… nah that shitting all down her leg didn’t happen but probably caught your attention.  Remember the Seven Dwarfs comments in a previous update, well this just proves the Sneezy Dwarf personality. She sneezes a bit and even has a runny nose sometimes which they reckon is a weird side effect of the chemo. Far out aye.

She still doesn’t drink piss but I love her anyway. She is gunna have to work on that though because love can only survive like that for so long. I never trust any cunt that doesn’t drink piss.

She can still pour me wine though so, fuck yeah!

She’s down to sleeping on only two pillows and for those that watched the pillow video that’s a humungous improvement from the pillow tower the princess I call my first wife lived upon.

The Princess climbing onto her mountain of a bed

She can wear her chemo bottle with purse attachment a little more naturally but tries her best not to go out heaps during the days she has it attached.  That’s Wednesday through Friday every fortnight by the way.

She can now sleep through most of the night sometimes, but fuck I laughed when she dozed off when getting chemo at hospital and woke herself up snoring.

She can whinge like the best of ‘em.  First wives are good like that, as are second and third and fourth and many other wives for that matter… actually to be totally honest, she whinges fuck all but I can’t really tell her that.  I think she’s saving it up for a real big one. Hoping she’ll let me know when that’s booked in for as have other shit on elsewhere that day, week or even month.

We’re both still off work and she’s gunna be off for quite a while yet.  As for me, well fucked if I know but this slave shit ain’t for the faint hearted, I tell ya.  I can’t speak highly enough of my bosses though who have my back big time so cheers man.  You are good cunts and I appreciate it.

Couple more positives…

Bella the fat thing of a dog has stopped limping so thinking it ain’t something sinister… Fuck yeah!  She’s an awesome dog, man.  I’ll try and remember to film her every time I walk in the house so you can see her bow.  I think the first wife is hoping I’ll learn that bowing trick from her.

Pudding our cat still hasn’t pissed on my clothes again so I’ve refrained from calling her Pudding the cunt and just gone with Pudding.  Nah, she’s a cool as cat too and very much misses being able to sit on my first wife’s big fat guts (even if it’s no longer a big fat guts).  But it’s ok Pudding, I now got a big fat guts of my own that you can do your soothing claw pressing moves one.

The ol’ first wife must be kinda popular because visitors are still coming almost daily, although as expected they have slowed somewhat to a more manageable level.  My first wife enjoys these visits though so anyone who ain’t sick or a fuckhead is welcome to visit.

She is still kinda yellow though and sometimes when I wake up next to her I have to check it’s actually her and not my ol man’s Chinese Mrs.  About the time I recognise her as my first wife I also realise I wasn’t stabbed in the guts like the ol’ man so no it ain’t his Mrs.

But her guts is still very much a long way from healed and it really does suck that she can’t eat a lot of the food that normal people eat.  Well what we eat, so not really normal people.

Chicken soup is good for the soul… as are good sons and family company

Couple other updates since last post is we had our good mates Biggles and Lexi down for a couple days and that was therapeutic because she loves them, we got to drink heaps of piss together (well most of us) and BBQd over fire for first time in a while and I dig that shit.  Of course, our neighbours who are also good cunts too came for beers, feed and a birthday.  Fuck I missed that shit.

Sneaky little Beach visit

Dilan got pissed though and managed to show us what he had in his guts.

Some plumber dude came and took a couple hundred bucks off us but fuck was that money well spend or what.  When ya first wife has bowel cancer and getting chemo ya don’t want ya toilet or any other drains backing up but he sorted it.

Yesterday some other dude came and did a monkey climbing thing with a chainsaw and by the time he was finished I’m sure he would’ve pissed off some tree huggers. #Fuckthetrees.

Nah, I love trees but the roots were causing massive dramas with our drain pipes and had the potential to fuck up the town sewer pipes that also run through our property so had to be done. That means I been working like a slave doing dump runs and I’m absolutely rooted as I write this.

Gotta love a dump run with ya dog

I wrapped her a present because using a broom is a bit of a struggle for her right now.  I’m good like that 😉

I wrote most of this a couple days ago and since then she hasn’t been feeling real flash the last couple of days.  It’s kinda fucked actually because she doesn’t deserve this cunt of a disease ☹

Watching, smelling and feeling the see (and dogs)
Gunna make some tea from our camomile plant
Impersonating Dilan eating soup

Bella in her pre grey hair days

Sharing the same birthday as myself (although not even close to the same year) is our dog.

Introducing Bella.

Born and bred on Straddie, as in Minjerribah aka North Stradbroke Island, she is indeed a real mongrel as are we. So she fits in perfectly.

She’s now nine and has the most beautiful soul and is very much a welcome and loved member of our family.

She may be number six in order of arriving into our family but if we go by the amount of how much she is loved, her rating would vastly improve.

Pudding our cat didn’t have a say but the four humans in our family all had a name for Bella. All names were put into a hat. Dilan wanted ‘Pingu’, can’t remember Kodi’s choice, I wanted ‘Dust’ and my first wife’s choice was drawn to take the naming prize. I believe ‘Bella’ is one of, if not the most common dog names in the world.