Life goes on

Tried to blog while away but unfortunately the wonders of modern technology do not seem to have reached L'Ile d'Oleron or indeed Candes St Martin....and as I am too stingy to pay for one of those mobile phone cards I had to give up on the web for two whole weeks. Which, now I think about it, was probably not a bad thing. It forced me to do other things, such as read, stare out of the window and sleep. Arrival at the one horse airport of La Rochelle brought about my worst nightmare as officious passport lady questioned me in great detail about my bizarre change of hairstyle since the Myra pic was taken just after my dx. I was forced to admit that my new curls were not a lifestyle choice but even then she couldn't get her head round the dates - passport renewed in October with photo taken in August. And all this with about forty fellow travellers standing up close and personal. Bitch. Anyway - I was allowed through with a rather dirty look -evidently all terrorist suspects use that obvious ploy of cutting long hair short and going for an oap perm - throws them off the scent every time...


Anyway - Anne's house was a wonderful tonic - bedroom overlooking tranquil lush garden, swimming pool, enough sun to swim, sunbathe and walk along deserted stretches of golden sand. I had a slight meltdown a couple of days in when she commented that I really didn't think or talk about anything other than cancer - and she was right - but it needed saying. I felt as though I was being allowed to let go of it all, at least for a while.


The second week was spent at our house in the Loire - first visit since I found the lump there last summer. Again, a wobbly weekend, but ended up sleeping and sleeping - morning, afternoon and night - which I think was exactly what I needed. I slept so much I started worrying about it, but then as I started to emerge I realised that it was ok, that it will take a while for the energy levels to return and that fighting it wasn't going to help.

Francois spent the entire week working so had absolutely no let up other than a couple of hours on the driving range and mealtimes so the kids were thrilled at the arrival of Geraldine, Tom and family which provided them with some welcome relief from comamum and absentdad. They also brought the sun and I was sad to leave.

Then came the long trek home via Francois' elderly aunt and uncle for a night - with my memory loss once again evident as I found myself completely incapable of remembering our well trodden shortcut from their rural retreat to the motorway. Even holding the map upside down didn't help - it was like looking at a map of China. I don't know how he puts up with me.

Spent much of the time since yesterday trying to get parking permits from Hackney council (slightly more difficult than getting a Green Card), shopping, cooking, attempting to change my mortgage provider (don't go there) and finally lying in a heap on the sofa catching up on Brothers and Sisters - my completely top favourite show. The entire cast of thirtysomething are slowly making appearances as fiftysomethings. A wonderful sense of continuation and purpose - not to mention many uplifting scenes featuring Rob Lowe who I admire in an entirely intellectual capacity.

Life goes on.