Tag: CT scan

#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.

  • avocado and scallops for breakfast
  • Champagne for Easter
  • Croatian cured meats for Easter
  • Our healthy option
  • Leg of lamb for Easter
  • Leg of lamb for Easter
  • Scallops wrapped in prsut
  • Carrot cake and banana bread
  • Pork belly get in my belly

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.

  • My apple core
  • My apple core after Marjana’s finished with it

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.

  • Peel Island

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…

Awkward cuddle poses

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

#36 Skinheads, scans and an anniversary

I think me and the first wife been having a war of words of late.

She’s told me I’ve turned into a fat cunt a few times and I’ve told her that her ass has got fat. Flat but fat. When she reads this I’m gunna claim a typo between flat and fat by the way… nah fuck it, keep it real and call it how it is, I reckon.

On a positive though, I’m still alive.

Healthy option (not just beer, but filtered beer) drinks break between tennis sets.

Couple of other positives are my first wife now checks her curvy bits out in the mirror with more precision and the fact she ain’t exactly a skinny little bitch is actually a good thing.

If you only look through one eye honey, it doesn’t halve the size

Not that I don’t love skinny sheilas ‘cos I do… well not like concentration camp skinny or muscle man sheila skinny ‘cos that shit’s fucked up and yeah I’m a spastic cunt but not mental spastic (um, well actually..).

But anyway, during those early cancer days when she was all fucked up following surgery, my cook lost so much weight she looked sick as fuck. Not ‘sick as fuck’ as in teenager talk for ‘cool’ but you know, sick as fuck like maybe she had bowel cancer type sick.

So now that she’s built up a few extra kilos as a buffer she’s good to go and even started exercising again, as have I.

With our two bald heads, we’ve been roaming the mean streets of Cleveland together like a couple of skinhead gang members. Even take our own ravaging dog for good measure. Our dog’s called Bella and she is of course black as fuck, ‘cos although we may look like scouts from Trump’s Proud Boys we also want to show we’re inclusive ‘cos our black dog’s life matters. For anyone wondering, our cunt of a cat is only partly black.

Siamese twins of the Smashing Pumpkins mould, with a third tit for good measure

Some of you would’ve seen that we had our 23rd wedding anniversary a few days ago where the first wife wrote heaps of soppy shit and I did my equivalent by taking the piss out of it.

But in all honesty, a few months ago we weren’t even sure we’d get to celebrate another wedding anniversary together so fuck yeah! Although she pisses me off heaps… quite a few heaps actually, I’m happy to have reached this little milestone together with her and counting a couple years warm up, it’s actually 25 very loooong years together. Longer than she’s been alive, I might add.

Hungry before feed and walking off fat after feed

So I took the ol’ girl out for a flash as feed at the most expensive restaurant in the whole wide world. Drove into the city not even sure where we were going to eat but ended up at La Vue and thank fuck you cunts donated to that GoFund me page because it cost me nearly every single cent of it to feed the hungry little hippopotamus and her growing bum. It was an awesome feed, ambience, service, food presentation and company so well worth it by the way. Although we ate heaps and each came out about 10kg heavier it was still way easier to walk home as I’d lost more than that weight in my wallet.

Just on that GoFundMe page at https://gofund.me/0e62aea0, we were going through it again yesterday looking at the comments and who had donated and everyone that donated to it or in person are still very much considered real good cunts and appreciated.

Wednesday just gone was supposed to be Chernobyl day but for the second time now our oncologist; you know the one I’m not allowed to call a gnome even though he looks like one, postponed it because my first wife’s blood test showed her immune system was down. Apparently it needs to be over a magical number of 100 and hers was like 85 or something. I reckon it might even have something to do with all the energy she’s putting into growing her bum.

Not only did my dishwasher sheila have her fortnightly blood test this week but she also had another CT scan to see the current extent of her cunty cancer.

For those that don’t know, people fucked up on cancer get scans all the time including CT or PET scans and probably even other ones too. So far, Marjana has only had CT scans which still require some funky shit to be injected into her veins to show things clearer. She hasn’t as yet had a PET scan which they do if the CT scans don’t show shit properly… I think?

Because my clothes folder had issues with vertigo they also checked her brain in the scan.

Irrelevant to this post but we turned into old fogeys and got us an air fryer

So the outcome of the scan probably deserves to be started with a quote I reckon…

Me: Did the scan on her head show an increase in nagging?

Oncologist who I’m not allowed to call a gnome even though he looks like one: Nah, that’s her baseline.

But it looks like the cancer hasn’t grown.

It also looks like it hasn’t exactly shrunk either which is a little bit of a cunt actually.

Our oncologist who I’m not allowed to call a gnome even though he looks like one, said that although the size of the tumours are pretty much the same there’s a chance that some of the mass that’s showing may actually be scar tissue that hasn’t broken down and dissolved back into her body.

Well here’s to hoping because after all these Chernobyl sessions, spewing her guts up, flaming ass diarrhea (not linked to the fat bum syndrome apparently), nausea and even nagging it would’ve been good to get news that the cunty cancer had done the equivalent of a grown man’s cock in freezing water and shrunk to that of a infant boy’s size shlong and concaved somewhat, but nup.

Our oncologist who I’m not allowed to call a gnome even though he looks like one, said he was going to tweak her chemo concoction because it’s fucking her up a bit more than it probably should’ve. He obviously hasn’t seen her when she’s pissed off.

He said some brainy doctor words about taking out this and that in her chemo and I asked him if he could write down exactly what he was saying. But I also asked if he could write it in human writing so I could read it. In his defence though, he did try and that’s what counts right?

These sheilas from Marjana’s work gunna call me a cunt after I post this clip. It’s all about the chin apparently.

So another couple weeks spent alive since last post so this merlot is for you dear first wife for making it this far and still looking pretty on and beautiful on the inside and out.