Old red eyes is back.

In chemo on Friday, one of the nurses commented that I looked 'very glam'. If only she could see me now: I look like a smackhead. Dark circles, red eyes, sunken features, greying skin... And, not that I know what being a smackhead feels like, but I imagine it's better than this (you don't tend to get many highs with these kind of drugs). The first couple of days post-chemo went pretty much as I'd

Old red eyes is back.

By: Unknown on: 12:31

The magic number.

Well here we are again: Chemo Friday (volume three). And what a pisser. I'm starting to think that the being-at-hospital stuff is worse than the shit that comes after chemo (remind me of that in a few hours and I WILL KILL YOU – first rule of cancer: never mess with a woman who's got it). I really fucking hate being at that fucking hospital (second rule of cancer: it may induce Tourettes). Every

The magic number.

By: Unknown on: 09:17

Memory almost full.

I'm known among my family and friends for two things: I'm always late and my memory is terrible. I forget names and dates (an affliction I keep on top of with a ridiculously organised diary and a propensity to write lists), important tasks, whole conversations, nights out (though I fear a lot of that is self-inflicted), childhood memories... you name it, I've forgotten it. I revealed to Tills

Memory almost full.

By: Unknown on: 09:12

It's a wonderful life.

There's something wrong with my tear ducts. I've been back through all my chemo leaflets and lists of side-effects, but it looks like this is one thing I can't blame on the drugs. The problem is me – I'm turning into a cry baby. Over the past week, I've felt happier than I have at any point throughout The Bullshit, and probably even happier than I've felt for a while before it. That's a seemingly

It's a wonderful life.

By: Unknown on: 12:56

My Super Sweet 30th.

Only when you've got cancer and it's your birthday is it acceptable for your friend's husband to buy you knickers. It's a little-known present-giving loophole that Tills' husband Si took advantage of the other night when they gave me my birthday presents. And they're not just any old knickers, oh no. They're the Best Knickers In The World: a white thong with 'Mrs Dave Grohl' on the front. And,

My Super Sweet 30th.

By: Unknown on: 01:53

Papa's got a brand new brag.

Apparently it's worth putting on a bit of slap and a nice top to visit your local mini-mart. Last night, on my way round to the corner shop, I got checked out. And I didn't imagine it either. A bloke I was walking past glanced over at me (less glanced, more looked me up and down) and gave me a smile. (And no, cynics, he wasn't smirking at my wig. I know this because the shopkeeper commented on

Papa's got a brand new brag.

By: Unknown on: 06:01

Much hairdo about nothing.

I've spent years faffing with my hair. I've demanded impossibly high standards from it. (I'd better clarify that I'm talking post-school, by the way – 1990-1995 was a half-decade hair-mare. With that and the braces, it's amazing I ever got snogged.) I've blow-dried, straightened, sprayed, lacquered, highlighted, lowlighted... all in a quest for the perfect 'do. Newsreader hair, if you will. You

Much hairdo about nothing.

By: Unknown on: 08:00