Well, that was a very 2020-ish sort of week.
Oh, for those heady days of innocence, way back when nobody would have understood what the above sentence meant. Right now, you probably wouldn’t even be surprised if I told you that the neighbourhood had been invaded by hordes of opera-singing purple mega-ants, or that a sinkhole had opened up under Twisted Towers and had swallowed all of my yarn. Fortunately neither of these things has happened… although given that it’s 2020 I should probably say that neither of these things has happened YET.
What has happened is the culmination of a couple of nasties that have been brewing for a while. Thing one is that this week, at the ripe old young age of 47, I was diagnosed with breast cancer. Do you have ANY IDEA how hard it is to crochet a breast tumour in order to illustrate this post?! I mean, viruses and bacteria look cute and quirky under the microscope, but breast cancers just look like BLOBS. This is the best I could do. It’s not very good:-
If the universe had bothered to give me a questionnaire asking whether I actually wanted a bunch of mutant cells to have a party in my right breast, I would of course have ticked the ‘NO’ box very firmly indeed. But I wasn’t consulted, so I’ll just have to make the best of things. At least it’ll provide a plausible excuse for lounging on the sofa, sighing melodramatically, and knitting, during the months ahead. (WHADDYA MEAN, “THAT’S ALL I EVER SEEM TO DO ANYWAY”?!) No matter what happens, I’ll still be here, knitting and blogging and chattering with you lovely lot. I’ve got further tests next week, and the results will determine whether treatment will be very un-fun, or very very very un-fun. Fingers crossed…
And if there’s any comic potential to be had from the situation, then rest assured that I will find it and I will drag it outside and I will flog it mercilessly until I’ve extracted every last drop of humour for the purposes of this blog. I can’t help it: that’s just how I’m wired. When things get tricky, my inclination is to make a joke. I should probably see a psychologist about that. Oh wait…
There’ll still be new knitting to show you. Plenty of knitting. I’m very worried about how treatment will affect my running, though. Running has been the saviour of my physical and mental health in these recent perimenopausal years, and I’d really like to keep lolloping across the Oxfordshire countryside. I’d even love to do another marathon.
But for now, I’m fine, the Stoic Spouse is fine, and most importantly, the twinnage know an age-appropriate amount about what’s going on and they seem to be fine so far. Hopefully the cancer will prove to be not too aggressive… although I think I might have just heard it growl. I’m worried about my patients at work, but I’ll use my last few pre-surgery weeks to try and organize things in the best way possible for their benefit.
And I’ll just have to hope that no opera-singing purple mega-ants show up around here, because I really DO NOT HAVE THE ENERGY to deal with those right now.
As for the other tricky thing that’s happening, I’m not sure how much I’m allowed to say publicly quite yet. But I’ll risk saying this: the publisher that commissioned the book on stranded knitting that I’m writing is… um… having a tiny weeny bit of a bankruptcy problem at the moment – or at least, the company that owns the publisher is. So it’s likely that I’ll have to find a new home for my half-done book. I hate to think how many hard-working people are facing redundancy because of this. And I hate to think about what a rubbish time this is for them to be out of work.
2020, eh? What a year!
But let me tell you, there’s nothing like a three-inch-tall bossy-boots tapping on the window to help keep things in perspective. Sinkholes, cancer, bankruptcy, opera-singing ants, none of it matters a jot, as long as Robyn-the-robin gets her breakfast on time. She’s got life sussed, that bird, I tell ya.
Until next time, my fine fibrous friends.
Phil x
Phil,
First-time reader here and what do I get(?)!
Believing your body can heal is the very first, and most important, step__can’t stress that enough!
I feel I was guided to read your post, that I may have the opportunity to join your many followers in Blessing your healing journey__you are now in my prayers, as well.
Just signed up for your blog so, I expect to see occasional updates!
Know that you have a relentless “Tribe” supporting your return to wellness!
Love, Light, and Healing Blessings upon you and yours.
????????????✨????????????????????????????????????????????
Oops, very sorry to dump this nasty stuff on you during your first visit here!! (You’re very very welcome, by the way.) Thank you for your kind and warm-hearted wishes. I deeply appreciate them. Px
Well phooey! 2020 certainly rots, doesn’t it? [insert appropriate swearing here, please]
I have a dear friend who went through this successfully a few years ago. She said that acupuncture helped her greatly with the side effects of chemo. Here’s hoping her experience can add another arrow to your quiver of knowledge.
Yup, 2020 is just the worst. And believe me, I’ve already inserted plenty of swearing! I’m very glad to read that your friend beat this disease. Interesting to read about the acupuncture – thank you. I shall file this away in the useful-tips-to-know portion of my brain. Px
Poor you, Phil. Perimenopause can be a bit rough at the best of times, but breast cancer on top of everything else? At least routine screening appears to be up and running again, so it was caught early on, we hope.
And definitely milk it for all the humour you can. There’s a long and semi-respectable British tradition of having a cuppa, making a joke about the whole thing, and soldiering on. Even against the operatic ants!
So hang in there, we’re all rooting for, thinking of and praying for you, the Stoic Spouse, the Twinnage, and Robyn!
2020 has been a bit of a rough year all round so far. We’ve been Covid unscathed, but Mum hasn’t been at all well and Restrictions have made visiting rather difficult.
Right, where’s the kettle and what can we find to joke about here . . .
I’m sorry to hear that – hope your Mum’s health takes a turn for the better and hope you can visit her safely soon. Thank you for your kind words, as well.
Finally managed to get to see Mum last Friday. Did a few ‘shifts’ watching with her to give my sister a break – she’d been nursing her at home, but Mum was clearly in need of better care than we could give her- terminal cancer, she was 90 5/6.
She was taken into the local hospice that Sunday morning. We were called to take the ‘last watch’ Monday evening. She went peacefully to be with her Lord and Saviour; also Dad and a lot of other good friends.
Oh gosh, I am so very sorry that you have been through such pain. It sounds as though she was deeply loved and cherished. I am sorry.
That’s a bit crap, I’m so sorry. And yes gallows humour helps. I was visiting a friend in hospital who had cancer and she was still hoping very much to go on a special holiday with hubby. The travel company said provided she could sit up that was ok by them. Hubby and I sat there in hospital and decided that a straightjacket should do the trick nicely. (And she made it without the jacket!)
Really hope that the results are as good as possible. Sending gentle hugs and holding you and the family in my thoughts.
Ha ha, I LIKE the attitude of you and your friend. Total respect. But very glad she made it. And I hope she had the blissful holiday that it sounds like she deserved. Px
This is my first time commenting. Love reading your post and sorry to hear about your cancer diagnosis. I had breast cancer at the age of 46. That was 20 years ago. Not a fun thing to go through but I will be sending good thoughts your way.
Thank you. Seriously, thank you. I’m very glad to read that your own cancer is very much in the past. Onwards and upwards, heh? Px
So sorry to hear that 2020 has decided to be especially unfun to you, that really sucks. I admire your response to the news and hope that treatment turns out to be the least unfun option and as successful as possible.
Thank you so very much. And yup, I’m definitely hoping for as least un-fun as possible! (Does that make grammatical sense? No. Do I care? No.) Px
Just found your blog, and just want to send best wishes for your near future and much love from a fellow yarn person.
Thank you so much, fellow yarn-lover! And you’re very welcome here.
Phil <3 'Hats off' to you for your humour and I'm wrapping you, Stoic Spouse, Twinnage and Robin all in much love. If your suggested treatment is the very un-fun option, I know of a great cream that stops your skin burning. More <3
Thank you so much for each and every part of that. I might have to get back to you about the cream. <3
<3 Always. <3
Your knitting is beautiful <3
Thank you. Seriously, thank you.
All best for an optimistic outcome.
Thank you. Fingers crossed!
So sorry – that really is a terrible week. I hope that your running isn’t interrupted for too long. I love the Headington shark too! It is so weird and always cheers me up. Good luck for your next set of tests, and at least it’s been found and a plan is being made.
Thanks Katharine, for all of this. And yes, the Headington shark is a special kind of awesome/crazy.
I’m a lurker not a poster, I’ve been following your for an age and just wanted to wish you well x
Thank you Amanda! And you’re very welcome here, whether you’re a lurker or a poster.
Sorry to hear your news Phil. You are quite right 2020 is a year that really, really sucks. On a more positive note though, I have a few close friends that have been diagnosed with cancer/breast cancer over the last 10-20 years I believe 4 in total and let me tell you they are all still with us and doing very nicely. They have all said that a positive attitude and ‘bossing’ the cancer is part of the success rate they think. Well we all know that you’ve got that covered despite Robyn Bossing you around. Sending you lots of good vibes and good wishes.
Thank you. My own mother intimidated breast cancer into submission, so I’m hoping to try and do so too. And I’m very glad to hear that your friends are all still very much with us.
I really enjoy your posts. Very sorry to hear about your cancer diagnosis – I hope you recover successfully and the treatment isn’t too dreadful. Go on extracting every bit of humour out of the situation – it’s the best approach to horrible events in my opinion and I look forward to your next missive. Good luck!
Thank you so much! I’ll do my best…
I’ve only recently been reading your blog and am sorry to read of your diagnosis.
I don’t normally post at all but wanted to say I was diagnosed just before my 50th birthday and although the treatment wasn’t nice I’m still here 15 years later.
Will be thinking of you over the next months and sending you all good wishes for a speedy recovery.
Thank you! And I’m very glad to read that you put the cancer in its place. It’s heartening to hear about so many positive outcomes from people who’ve been there.
Wow. I don’t even know what to say. I will pray for your health and send you many good vibes. You have a great attitude and I think your writing will become a great source of therapy and support. I wish you all the best. Holler if you need anything!
Thank you so much for your support and your kindness. It’s very humbling to read all of these comments here.
First — long distance hugs and positive thoughts.
Second — humor. Yes. Definitely. First office visit after I got my breast cancer diagnosis, my surgeon sat me down and said “Seriously. How do you feel about this?” I replied that mostly I was annoyed. Then, looking down the front of my blouse to get Eye Contact (well, Eye-Boob Contact), I gave my right breast hell. “Shame on you! Don’t I buy you the nicest bras around? Didn’t I take you to Hawaii with me? And THIS is the thanks I get?” Doc kind of sat back a bit, then grinned, and said “You’re gonna be fine.”
That was 12 years ago. He was right.
I LIKE your attitude. Seriously, I like it. And doubtless it helped get you through what was presumably a tricky time. May you continue to enjoy good health.
So sorry to hear about your diagnosis. I have several friends who also had breast cancer, one of them twice and they recovered fine. I trust that your great attitude toward this and your running will get you through just wonderfully! All the best!
Thank you, and I’m very glad to hear that your friends recovered. It’s heartening to read so many positive stories.
Oh Phil. That’s just pants. A long time lurker popping up to wish you the very very very best in the coming weeks. You will be in my thoughts at this challenging time. But I can’t think of anyone better equipped to take on ANY challenge. Much love over the ether.
Thank you Rosie, for such an incredibly warm-hearted post. I appreciate your words very deeply. Px
Sorry to read of your problem. keep up the good work –all kinds– and good humor.. best medicine.. Bz from across the pond
Thank you – I appreciate your kind words. Px
Yet another lurker coming out of the woodwork to wish you well!
Thank you from the bottom of my crusty old heart. Seriously. Thank you, Julie.
Another one who loves to read your blog who wants to wish you well. I had a mastectomy 4 years ago so know the worse part is waiting to hear results of tests, once you have your treatment plan you can just get on with it, it’s the limbo land time that is the worse. I hope the news is will be as good as possible once you hear.
Thanks Linda, and yes, the limbo time is tricky. I really just want to get on with treatment. I hope that even though you’ve been through the mill, your health is excellent now.
Phil, “you’ve got this” as they say. As a retired nurse of 35 years I can tell you, you’ve got the right attitude. I have learned that there is Nothing “fair” about life & so one needs to develop a fairly large tool box of life skills to be able to get along. My mother was a recovered breast ca. survivor & lived to a ripe old age & was feisty as ever! Sending positve energy, a prayer & fierce hugs from Houston, Penny.
Thank you Penny, for every single word of that. And I agree with your wisdom about the unfairness of life. Cancer couldn’t care less whether you’re rich or poor, young or old, etc. But I plan to survive this, if only for my children’s sake. They’re only nine – they need their mum.
My daughter and my sister are long time Survivors. It will happen to you! Keep your head up and a smile on your face and this too will pass. And please keep putting a smile on our faces!
It’s incredibly how very many people have trodden this path before and – thank goodness – survived. May your daughter and sister enjoy excellent health for the rest of their days. And thank you for your kind comment.
My sister is a runner, and she kept on running during her breast cancer treatment. She said it really helped her. That was 15 years ago, and she is still running.
You bring me so much joy and peace with your beautiful posts and knitting. Will be right beside you in your journey ahead. Love to you all x
And a heartfelt thank you to you for saying so. <3
Nothing but good thoughts for the swiftest and smoothest recovery.
As the saying goes, laughter is the best medicine, so hopefully this is taken the right way – perhaps an opportunity to knit or crochet a wig ????
Kia kaha
dear Phil, all the best wishes from Austria! I made a mammogram appointment after seeing your IG post. i went today some calcifications were found so i need an MR in a few days…
I really hope your book comes out after all because I need a lot more of your knitting wisdom in my life!
Hi Elisabeth, but also… Oh gosh! I’m glad I prompted you to make an appointment, but I hope that your calcifications turn out to be absolutely nothing to worry about. Please stay healthy. Px
Phil, you are an amazing woman. I’ve followed a bit of your journey on Facebook, but I’ve been absent for awhile in our lovely WordPress community. I’m glad to finally make my way back here. I’m sorry for the diagnosis, and for 2020 in general. It would be nice to scratch the whole year away and start over. A friend was diagnosed with breast cancer in January, and she’s doing so well. It seems the treatments are even more personalized than ever before. I want you to have the experience that she did, which is to say a quick recovery, no need for chemo, short radiation and now recovery. Sending you love and strength and appreciation for who you are in this world. xo Alys
Dear lovely Phil, I’ve only posted here a few times before but am a long-time reader of all of your blog posts and I love them (and you!) for their humour and down-to-earthness, as well as the YARN P*RN and amazing robin/nature/random shark photos. I’m so sorry to hear of your diagnosis HOW UTTERLY SHIT, WHAT IS THE UNIVERSE THINKING OF FFS?!?!. It felt like a physical blow, reading it. Which I only share so that you know how much of a friend you feel to your readers (this reader, for sure!) even though we’ve not actually met, and how beloved you are in this community that you’ve built. I imagine sometimes writing a blog can feel like writing into empty space, and that is so not the case! We’re here, we’re listening, we’ll be with you through this process, whatever you want to share. And may it be minimal grimness and maximum chance-to-knit. Much love to you and your family. Special shout-out to Mother Twisted XXXX
easy for me to say, but try not to worry…you got this!!!
Really sorry to hear that you’re going through the cancer mill. Full of sympathy, and empathy. I’m dealing with a pancreatic cyst (fingers crossed that it doesn’t turn cancerous – they’re watching it), 2 tumours in my left lung (probably not cancerous, but not entirely sure) and, the icing on the cake, a kidney stone merrily dancing a jig in my right kidney.
But I keep looking at friends who have emerged the right side of cancer treatment and are bright eyed and busy tailed again. You can do this. And if anyone deserves to, then you do.
Love the posts. Keep it going, we’re all rooting for you.
Nice meeting you dear friend. Your post is outstanding!! Thank you for sharing your thoughts with us!!
I have just joined your blog after discovering you. I will be including you in my prayers.
Sending blessings and strength for the coming week ♥️
Dear Phil, wishing you all the best, I’m loving the humor in your posts. <3