cancer is a cunt – Page 7 – Woodstock's blog

#29 Appreciating the good shit

Have had a bit of time to think lately and yes it still hurts like a motherfuck when I do that thinking thing.

It would be easy to take the view that our life is pretty fucked right now. I don’t think many could really argue that too much, considering.

But fuck that shit, man!

Since we started this cunty cancer journey heaps of positives have come out of it.

Yeah, there’s plenty of negatives too; like my first wife having her guts ripped out, her beautiful thick hair thinning out and my guts doing the exact opposite, having to change to a way blander diet (ok, maybe not me and the boys so much but she has), dehydrating ourselves tear by tear by tear… I could go on but that’d be looking for the negatives.

In honour of all you Playschool loving kids out there today we aren’t looking through a square, round or even an arched window but a the thankful window. Gotta love those thankful windows, man.

Just like yesterday and every day prior so far, we didn’t wake up dead. That can have it’s own ‘yeehaa’.

I think this is our boy and not some Hindu dude in a temple

My first wife can be a raggety ol’ hag when she’s pissed off with me but she does have the most beautiful smile and already this morning she’s shared it with me heaps. Not so much a couple days ago though ‘cos she was perfecting her annoyance skill.

We have also reconnected with heaps of people who we hadn’t seen for ages and we didn’t even have to die to do it. Usually those ‘we should catch up more’ comments only really eventuate at funerals after some cunt died.

People have offered and provided so much to us as a family. Some we have accepted, some we even accepted without even knowing we had done so until after the fact and some offers we haven’t taken up because seriously man, how the fuck do you respond to those ‘if you ever need anything let me know’ comments? It’s kinda a hard one aye. But to those people who still want to help us, just keep being good cunts.

Some pommy mates, yes even though they’re poms

This morning the ol’ girl was trying on heaps of old dresses that no longer fit because I’d turned into a fat cunt and she was building reserves for winter and neither of us were the skinny like worms people we used to be. Who’d have thunk it, but all those years that her clothes had been stashed away in the hope that one day she might get bowel cancer and lose heaps of weight would finally pay off.

Because she now fits them, I don’t need to buy her new clothes. It’s like going to the Op shop and picking clothes off the shelf for free that you already love because you already decided that when you bought them the first time around. Saves heaps of time and money and none of you sheilas even think about bringing up the ‘no longer in style’ argument because all styles (fuck even the 80s) come back into fashion.

See what I mean about all these positives?

Since joining a bunch of online cancer groups we have again realised how lucky we actually are. Cancer really is a cunt of a thing. Hearing all these real life stories and experiences of how cancer has fucked good people over is so so so sad. It certainly makes me very much appreciate that although my cook has stage four cancer, she ain’t half as fucked up as heaps of other people who have already lost loved ones or are way more fucked up and therefore have a cunt of a life as a result.

So here’s a big ass ‘FUCK YEAH’ for our situation being as good as it can be.

Considering it’s Marjana’s good week she hasn’t really been the flashest to be honest and has felt a bit shit. She still has that vertigo thing hanging around, doesn’t have heaps of energy and is a bit wonky on her feet.

Octopus salad, mashed potato and spinach with fried egg, lamb rack, my Dally style spuds and massive t-bones in two.separate rubs

But the All Blacks pulled off a bloody great effort against the Wallabies last Saturday and the Maroons came back and pipped those New South Wales Mexican bastards from south of the border in Origin One.

The All Blacks (ABs) play the final Bledisloe Cup game at Suncorp tonight too. Initially we weren’t gunna go ‘cos my first wife wasn’t up to it but she’s keen as so we’re off to watch that game with some good mates.

Just on that note, I seriously considered not going as a national service to my country because every single time I watch the ABs play at Suncorp they lose. A few of my Aussie mates really want me to go for that reason alone. Maybe I should get ’em to buy me tickets to all their test matches in the hope I am their nemesis 😉

But we have already won this year’s Bledisloe so I’m going anyway. The Wallabies will even be in with a chance tonight, not only because I’m going but also the fact the AB’s grabbed some Under 11s primary school kids to replace some of the senior All Blacks. It kinda evens it up so if the coaching staff are willing to take a chance, then so am I.

Things may change for us and all my posts won’t be this positive but for now, this beer followed by this Jagermeister is for appreciating the good things in life.

How ya going with ya chemo?

#28 Best gift so far

I just asked my first wife what happened this week that I can write about and one of the first things she said was ‘I nagged more’. Fuck, I ain’t arguing with that but was hoping she’d tell me something I didn’t know.

Although we aren’t out socialising as often as we were, we’re still very much social due to people visiting and it really is nice for my cleaner to have people showing they care in person.

One couple of Marjana’s work mates came yesterday and brought the best fucking gift we’ve received yet. It’s a mean as blanket imported from England with a collage of some spastic cunt all over it. As if my cook doesn’t get enough of the spastic dude already 😉

I wasn’t even home to meet them or receive the gift ‘cos my first wife was pimping me out to one of her other work mates that needed some help cutting fallen trees after a storm ripped through their farm.

All this pimping out made me feel like I was back in my man-whoring days.

Coming home drained, covered in sweat, dirt, sawdust, cuts and scratches like a UFC fighter, there were more man-whore similarities than just being pimped out, I tell ya.

These poor fellas farm got smashed in the latest storm

Those sheilas from my first wife’s work bat for the other team and to be honest I can’t blame ’em ‘cos if I was a chick that’s how I’d roll too, but suffice to say, when I came home my first wife was still my first wife (well technically, she can’t ever not be I suppose) and hadn’t run off to join The Dark Side. It’s the small things in life, aye.

Workmates came to hang with the first wife

The Mrs was happy to also see Finland Tina who’s almost as spastic as I am. We know her from our Gold Coast days and she works at Pindara Oncology. She’s actually also quite brainy with this cancer shit so nice for them to have a catch up.

Chernobyl day was Wednesday and even with her vertigo hanging around like Bella trying to scavenge a feed, it went well.

We just came back from the cancer care clinic to get Marjana’s hipflask style bottle of chemo removed which is always a relief. I don’t feel real good when she has that attached and I ain’t even the one it’s attached to so imagine how she feels.

Will be interesting to see how the ol’ girl goes this weekend because last time she was kinda fucked up, so here’s to hoping aye.

Random photo of a brazier Dilan made at school. Got an A.

My mate Chris (and boss) had an operation yesterday on his own personal cancer battle so thinking of him too. He’s a good cunt, man and the world needs more good cunts and less shit cunts.

On Tuesday some sheilas from my work came out and had lunch with us; meaning my first wife, Chris and I and it was nice to catch up with them all as I haven’t been at work since our world fell over. Thanking y’all for having my back, man.

Also on Tuesday, Dilan had his semi formal and took some young sheila along as his date. He probably had the spunkiest looking chick to be honest. Even the first wife complimented him on how hot his date was so they should be proud if they get a tick of approval from her.

When we were picking him up I asked the first wife why all the young chicks nowadays look spunky as fuck but when I was young like him they were all ugly as fuck (except for you sheilas from my younger days who are reading this… actually, nah just call it how it is I reckon) 😉

I cooked but Mrs takes credit for recipe

Finally, here’s to all the other cancer fighters out there because there’s fucking heaps of the poor cunts. It’s no surprise to me but life ain’t fair.

Practising for nagging

#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.

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.

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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