I'll be there for you.

There's every chance you'll disagree with me, but I find the concept of 'best friends' a dangerous one. For kids it's perfectly acceptable (I'd never have made it through school without my 'terrible twin', as we were known), but when you grow up I reckon it's far healthier to have a group of mates at which no person in particular is at the pinnacle. So why, then, have I suddenly started playing

I'll be there for you.

By: Unknown on: 14:05

Misery loves company.

I miss pubs. And restaurants and cafes and bars (my clubbing days were over long before the arrival of The Bullshit). And that's fine; that's the way it's got to be for now (I intend to spend the rest of my life making up for it – a damn good master plan, if you ask me). The thing is, with the lack of socialising of late, I'm becoming increasingly doubtful about how to behave in company. Not

Misery loves company.

By: Unknown on: 14:32

A new perspective.

Always-Right Cancer Nurse warned me very early on in The Bullshit to keep off the internet as much as possible (I've not told her about the blog) to save confusing myself with pages and pages of information that might not be relevant to me. All that mattered, she said, was dealing with my own experience, and that she or anyone else at the hospital would be able to answer any questions I had. And,

A new perspective.

By: Unknown on: 06:43

A matter of taste: an update.

Don't worry, this isn't an update on my turd-status (although I'm back on track, thanks very much – probably thanks to Mum who, when some family friends came over last night, put out a big bowl of crisps for her guests and, beside it, a small bowl of prunes for me). Nor is it an update on my tastebuds (also getting there, cheers – P’s spicy soup was delicious, and probably more fiery than I could

A matter of taste: an update.

By: Unknown on: 09:30

Let's hear it for the boys.

Last night I dreamt that my hair had grown back long enough for me to be able to go out without a wig. I was meeting up with some friends (as is always the case in dreams, it was a really disparate bunch that no real-life circumstance would ever put together) and we were due to be having some kind of water-fight-themed summer party in Tills' back garden. Thinking that I could get away with

Let's hear it for the boys.

By: Unknown on: 10:04

A matter of taste.

One of my favourite questions to ask people – along with their top five songs, football team and favourite Beatle – is what their death-row, last-ever meal would be (you can tell I'm a sucker for those inane, reply-to-all email questionnaire things). My answer's been the same for years: a cheese and crisps sandwich (white bread, plenty of butter, Cheddar cheese, salt and vinegar crisps) and a mug

A matter of taste.

By: Unknown on: 07:24

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