#41 Enter the blood transfusion stage

Chernobyl Day and currently sitting at hospital waiting for my first wife to piss in a jar for her fortnightly urine sample.

I’d like to think she’s having a ripper time in there all by herself but know she’s struggling. Just found out she needs her first blood transfusion and she was a little big freaked out.

Her hemoglobin is way down but unfortunately not like Elvis’s song Way Down.

I regularly give blood and know there’s always a shortage so if y’all up to it, then worth considering giving up a little. Ain’t like it’s beer or wine, man so give heaps.

From bag to body

Ya may even be lucky enough get a hot as fuck nurse (or maybe a raggedy ol’ ugly one) but whether she (or he) is skantily clad wearing a low cut, tight fitting top and mini skirt or not, they’ve all been really nice when I’ve gone; even the huckery ol’ ones. Plus ya get snacks and shit for free.

The lucky bastard that gets mine should be extra happy ‘cos will no doubt go away pissed from the high blood alcohol content. Just hope they’re a happy drunk and not some sad violent cunt.

Much like wives, those nurse sheilas love sucking the life out of husbands but in this case it’s for a good cause and is appreciated. If you’d like to play your part in helping save someone’s life, either phone 131495 or follow this link https://www.donateblood.com.au/.

Fuck I am a dumb cunt though as until now, I actually thought a blood transfusion was a drip thing vacuming out old huckery blood from one arm and another machine injecting some flash as new (second hand) blood into the other arm, but apparently not.

For all you other dumb cunts like me, she gets to keep all her own blood but also gets an intravenous top up of fresh shit. Kinda like having a Berocca or for you Croatians out there a strong glass of Cedevita… actually, more like fina domaca rakija.

In Sesame Street’s Count von Count ‘s accent, ‘I’ve come to suck your blood

The word hemoglobin kinda sounds like a cool name for a ghost but it’s actually the protein in red blood cells that carries oxygen to the rest of the body. It also transports carbon dioxide out of cells and back into lungs for exhaling. Anyway, the ol’ girl’s was about 80g/L and a good count is around 115 – 160g/L, I think so she was a little bit shy of the required number. Apparently it happens with chemo so probably lucky we made it this far before needing a shot.

In hindsight, this transfusion thing was needed as she’s had a few dizzy moments of late, including just last Monday night when she got all lightheaded like I reckon she did when she first saw me.

The reason we were out that night was to celebrate our youngest devil spawn, Dilan’s 17th birthday. It was pretty low key with just me, the cook and both kids heading out for a feed of ribs and shit. But it was an event worth celebrating and right now we’re celebrating everything we can.

Ribs, ribs, burger and ribs

The day before was Mother’s Day and we spent half that in Melbourne and the other half back home in Queensland with both devil spawn. More about Melbourne later.

Nine days before that we celebrated our oldest devil spawn, Kodi’s 22nd birthday, which I touched on in my last blog and that too was pretty low key with just the four of us at home.

One of my best mates Biggles shares the same birthday as Kodi so we also went to the Sunny Coast and celebrated there in a big way. Fuck I loved that party, man and much like being alive, I didn’t want it to finish. Biggles is a fucking good cunt, man.

Amongst other things, we said we’re gunna buy the kids a scuba diving course for their birthdays. Haven’t paid for it yet but that’s the plan anyway. For those that haven’t been scuba diving before, that’s some good time’s right there.

Dilan’s ankle is still rooted and needs to see a specialist so hoping a particular ligament is only partially torn and not completely snapped ‘cos that’ll suck, man.

Dilan passed his driving test yesterday and celebrated not only that but also the fact that he’s the first in our family of four to pass it first time. Fuck yeah. Saved me money on paying for a second test. Nah, well done boy.

Although my first wife and I have been to every continent bar Antarctica we haven’t seen much of Aussie yet and took a Covid chance by booking a trip to Melbourne with another wog couple, Drago and Blansa.

As it turned out there were no Covid cases to prevent our trip from eventuating and we had an awesome time. Absolutely love that city, man. Untold primo food that’s cheap as fuck like Wagyu steak for $39.99kg. My housewife came back with heaps of presents to give the kids for Mothers Day (oh, the irony) and I came back with a weight limit full suitcase full of raw meat.

Travelling with a first wife with bowel cancer and half her bowel cut out is different to travelling with a first wife prior to having that cunt of a disease. Small things like when booking accommodation make sure there’s an ensuite and don’t go into a plane toilet immediately after she’s been in there.

Whether one has cancer or not, having a little thing like a big fat poo every day is quite a nice thing. Not having one sucks and even more so when you got a fucked up bowel.

Finally, we keep getting asked how much longer Marjana needs chemo or how many more sessions there are. So, just to again clarify again, we’ve been told she needs chemo for the rest of her life. There’s no magic number or time frame so unless things change she’s on chemo until she dies. Hopefully that’s in about a million years so we really get our value for money from health insurance.

We still believe in miracles.

Exiting a bathroom

#19 Gifts for my first wife

When it comes to pegs my favourite is Peggy Bundy from Married with Children.

Not my first wife though… nah uh. Her favourite are pegs that open and close like these ones. They are much preferred than those skinny ones that you just push over the clothesline wire.

Another great gift; this one from way back in March 2018.

#40 Return of the spew bucket

Hard to believe we have reached 40 Cancer Chronicle blogs really.

I remember when I turned 40 I was so pissed off. Seriously man, I wasn’t very happy at all. When I turned 50 though, I was actually happy it. Not really sure what the difference was but in all reality, they’re just numbers anyway.

Whether it’s a number relating to how many times you’ve been around the sun or how many times you’ve clicked ‘publish’ on a blog it still really is just a number… it’s what happens between those numbers that matter.

And in this instance, those 40 posts hopefully have kept y’all updated on the happenings of someone we know and love together and in doing so given you a few laughs in between. It’s certainly done that for us.

Don’t get me wrong though in thinking it’s all fun and games in reliving the comedic reality show in print because as you groupie readers know all too well, there’s been plenty of fucked times too.

Fucked times aint dead times though so even they need to be celebrated. But enough of this philosophical shit and back to real stuff like my first wife’s massive green projectile vomit a couple nights ago.  Yeah, that’s what I’m talking about, man.

It was almost like a back to the future thing with Marjana talking in a monotone robot like voice saying ‘Get me a bucket quick!’.  Now I’m a dumb cunt alright but dumb cunt or not, I still got a memory and recalled the times of old when she says those words in that tone.

Like a treasure hunt expert in an olympic sprint I found a large enough spew vessel in the nick of time and the ol’ girl played her part in not making my giving it to her a waste of time.

She’d had her Chernobyl Day dose of chemo the day prior on Wednesday and woke up on Kodi’s birthday day feeling pretty good. By the time I returned from an ultrasound on our other son Dilan’s ankle she had stomach cramps and has since had had the chemo bottle removed on Friday and now three days later, she still got em.

Kinda sucks and unsure what they’re from.  I reckon it’s a bug and she reckons its from looking at my ugly head so the jury’s is still out on that.

But she’s still getting nausea and shouldn’t be and with vertigo coming back as often as aphids on my plants the little cunts, we’re now booked in to see a Neurologist.

Even had an MRI on my first wife’s head for good measure and when we told Dilan, the conversation went something like this…

Me – Ya ol’ lady had an MRI scan on her brain today to check if there was a brain in there. 

Dilan – Maybe they should do one on your head, Dad.

Me – You little cunt.

Marjana and Dilan laughed like fuck and I begrudgingly told Dilan he may have just made the quote of the day.

Anyway, the scan results showed she does have a brain and it’s alive and in her head. It’s the small things in life, right.

Small things like road trip days to places we never been before.

We been taking Bella to the dog beach a few times a week and the walk there and back can be six or seven kilometres so we might be unfit fat cunts but that ain’t too bad for, well… unfit fat cunts, I suppose.

We’ve also been making a concerted effort to do shit even when the cook ain’t feeling too flash.

We’ve visited some good mates at Sunny Coast and even got to catch up with one of the loudest proudest Aussies I know from way back. We ate food, drank piss and told old rugby war stories from our California days following another mate dying.

San Francisco Rugby Club memory lane

Cuzzie Jase the Ace took the cook on a Harley ride for the day and she dug it. Thanks to Lisa for sharing her man, his bike and her riding gears but fuck did she make me pay by drinking heaps and heaps of my plonk.

That afternoon flowed into the evening in Fortitude Valley where we watched Kodi’s band Victor Bravo perform live for the first time in way too long. It was a primo show with heaps of hot young scantily clad chicks, hip looking muso dudes with finely trimmed moustaches and a couple of beat up old cunts going as hard out as the performing band. These Victor Bravo kids are still finding their feet in both the musical and the real world but they got the goods musically and hoping they manage to find their way through the eye of the needle and make it.

But it’s nice to see ya kids doing what they love. With one it’s music and the other it’s rugby. Except for injuries of course. Injuries suck. Dilan’s a tough little cunt though, I’ll give him that.  Played a full game of school rugby for Iona College and another 15 minutes for the 2nd 15 and rolled his ankle during the second game. Even played the last seven or so minutes hobbling around.

As mentioned before, Kodi had his birthday and the first wife wasn’t feeling real flash but I cooked us a few mean as feeds including my own aptly named butbut style chicken on my new smoker, some American style pork ribs and the following day I smoked some fish (mullet) that I fucked up because mouthfuls of salt ain’t a cuisine I’d like to return to.

This will be one of those ‘I guess you had to be there’ stories but was driving Dilan to school and had Marjana next to me. She might seem nice to y’all but I tell ya what, you do not want to be some old rich cunt living his midlife crises in a small expensive convertible in front of us and not taking off immediately when the light turns green or otherwise you gunna be getting a bit of this (sorry I stopped the recording before she finished her snorting)…  

‘Fuck off you little cunt’

Not really a funny quote of the day but worth the mention when talking about Marjana getting repeated nausea…

Our Oncologist who I’m not allowed to call a gnome even though he looks like one – I guess the best thing we could do is stop the nausea.

Me – I’m thinkin’ probably the best thing could be to cure cancer, maybe.’

Here’s a positive I guess… these blogs have changed from daily updates about staying alive and the intricate moments involved to an almost journal like retelling on us living life. A boring life even. But that has to be a good thing, aye.

Like a couple of Deadheads at a Victor Bravo concert

#18 Gifts for my first wife

The year 2018 included fantastic gifts, some of which could not be wrapped…. like concerts.

Took the first wife to see Bryan Adams (at her request I might add).

Took the first wife to see The Rocky Horror Show (my choice of course).

Plus, our eldest Devil Spawn’s (Kodi) band Victor Bravo released their very first music video to compliment all these musical gifts for my first wife over the year 2018.

Watching ya kids do what they love is a gift in itself and as ‘underground’ as this vid was way back when, y’all can watch it here… https://fb.watch/58ukpkyeWp/

Back to the real gift wrappings soon.

#39 Marjana and her beard

As far as first wives go, mine ain’t too bad actually.

Yeah she growls like a crusty old lion with a sore tooth, she snorts like a hungry pig when I’m trying to watch tv, she snores like a gold medallist at the snoring Olympics, she always leaves the vacuum cleaner out as a trip hazard and yeah she does have that cunty bowel cancer shit going on, but I kinda dig her aye.

Wanna know what I reckon? Everyone’s fighting their own battles with some struggling with hard core shit and others struggling with over irrelevant shit but it’s how people perceive whatever’s happening in their lives that affects how we respond.

So when my first wife asked me to use my clippers to trim fluffy bits of her now no longer bald head, I asked if she wanted me to continue onto her face and trim her beard. She laughed like a snorting spastic.

Snorting spastics are some of my favourite spastics by the way.

Well actually, we both laughed because yeah she’s got a fluffy face that could easily be mistaken for ZZ Top’s Billy Gibbons but it’s actually quite calming to run my fingers through it, much like stroking the soft coat of our pissing cat or patting our gannet of a dog.

This may or may not be Marjana’s chin

But jokes aside, even though I’m a great believer in ‘don’t sweat the small stuff’ both my cook and I often need to remind ourselves of exactly that.

Does what we’re worrying about really affect the things that really matter and often the answer is no. On the occasions when the answer is actually yes then maybe drink more piss and eat more primo feeds or alternatively try something else that’s probably better for your health.

Basically though, this cunty cancer has cleared our vision somewhat to try and enjoy life without worrying about the small things.

The ol’ girl’s vertigo has come back a couple times over the last month and it’s a real cunt so we put in some strategies to sort that like going to see that brainy vertigo physio sheila and doing some funky exercises. It’s good to note though that one of Marjana’s super powers (eating apple cores) hasn’t been affected.

But we also managed to take some of our inner circle on a sailing excursion on Sunday where we all basically lived life and had one of the best days ever. Fuck it was an awesome day, man. Good for all and thanks needs to go out to Marjana’s work mates who gave her the voucher for her 50th birthday present from funds raised in a cake sale. Fucken good cunts I reckon.

The first wife had another CT scan on Monday and of course yesterday (Wednesday) was Chernobyl Day with the chemo juice now flowing through her veins till lunchtime tomorrow. With every scan comes a heap of trepidation as to what will the result be. Like, you know, is the chemo and all the sickness that comes with it working and actually worth it?

We’re thinking a big fat yes because there’s nothing I love more than having my first wife around to annoy the fuck out of me (see paragraph two) – except for maybe when she does stuff that doesn’t annoy me or I do stuff that annoys the fuck out of her.

If it wasn’t for chemotherapy she would be dead. And that would suck big time because I dig my first wife heaps. She gets pissed off but I often remind her that she’s the winner as she’s the only sheila in the world I ever chose to be my wife and she’s still around. So fucken yeehaa for that revolting chemo shit that makes her go real yellow. Yellow is a colour of alive as far as I’m concerned.

She’s actually a bit upset of late because she’s been putting on a kilo per week and I know ya ain’t supposed to talk about a sheila’s age or weight but I’m a cunt so this 50-year-old first wife of mine now weighs 69kg and is worried about how she looks. Your quote of the day is our real life conversation about it…

Marjana: I’m getting fat Brendon. I keep putting on weight, like a kilo every single week. Will you still love me when I’m fat like an Oompa Loompa, ljubavi?

Me: What do you mean when? Oompa Loompas are actually orange ya know and you’re already heaps yellow so you’re kinda already like one and I still love you now.

But anyway, we laughed and went for a 6km walk together with our old fat dog Bella so basically we were like a small gang of old fat cunts walking the street. One black, one yellow and one just a bald fat guts type colour.

Previously, Marjana would talk to her Mama as often as she could and when her brother Slobo was at home they would Facetime. Well with the help of our nephew Ivan, we scored Mama a tablet so she and my first wife can Facetime each other every day.

It’s getting better now but talk about laugh, man. Watching an old school Croatian woman try to use a device when she deaf and blind as fuck and I’m just talking about Marjana, so imagine both her and her ol’ lady in action.

Nah, it’s great to see the smile on both their faces when they yell at each other really loudly. Not yelling as in angry yelling. Just yelling because they’re Dalmatian and that’s how they talk.

Dalmatians also love to talk with their hands too so I often have a little snigger to myself when they’re yelling at each other and trying to use their hands at the same time and realise they’re restricted because they need their hands to hold the tablet to see each other.

I love the joy these conversations bring to my first wife every single day.

Chatting with Mama and Marjana’s two brothers Slobo and Nebo

We aint real brainy out these ways but we’ve just worked out why my back is rooted. It’s from giving the first wife too many cuddle because seriously man, check out these action shot pics with and without the model…

Finally the results from the first wife’s latest scan… It’s basically status quo with the cancer still very much there and mostly remaining the same size, bar one lymph node that’s grown. We would’ve loved for our Oncologist who I’m not allowed to call a gnome even though he looks like one, to say a miracle has happened and it’s all gone or even that it’s shrunk but hasn’t happened yet. I was once let into a Grateful Dead concert for free by cops in the States, so I for one believe in miracles.

Never too proud to pray to God

On a positive note though, you, me, my first wife, our kids and hopefully nobody else you know woke up dead this morning so fuck yeah.

Easter in church showing thanks and appreciation and also asking for many things including a certain cunty cancer to fuck off

These words of wisdom were brought to you by making the most out of a cunt of a situation and of course the result of fine hops.

Apple core training video