I have invented a new creature. It is a cross between a panda and a St Bernard, and I am calling this creation St Banda. I seem to be, albeit reluctantly, dedicating a whole look to it too. I have huge red patches under my swollen puffy eyes and they are very sore. It's not a good look and I'm blaming cetuximab.
And yes, red is this season's colour but I was hoping to incorporate it into my life via a novelty knit or splash of festive flair rather than a full blown tribute to rouge emanating from under my eyes and chin. This is just not good. Not good to the extent that Dr C and I will be discussing it on Wednesday. A treatment break (from cetuximab) may be a possibility or a reducing the dose. Apparently dry skin is a cetuximab symptom that can kick in a few months into treatment. This I can tell you is true but it's not dry in the 'more moisturiser is needed' sense this is dry in the singing detective sense. Okay, so it isn't a hospital case of dry skin but it is horribly uncomfortable and very disfiguring.
So, not much a blog this week as a big whinge.
However Christmas is fast approaching and with two fervent believers in the house (in Father christmas) it's a very magical time here. The local rotary club have a Santa float that goes down our road. A sleigh is pulled behind a car with a waving Father Christmas and festive tunes are played out from speakers. It's Redhill... Anyway we heard the float coming and rushed to the window. The kids were straight out the bath so warm and pink and wrapped in towels. Rosie stood at her window waving with delight. She couldn't believe it when Father Christmas spotted her and waved back. Ilias on the other hand whispered to me in wise tones that this wasn't the real Santa it was a fake and that the 'real' one only comes on Christmas Day. It was a lovely magical moment. It's wonderful seeing Christmas through their eyes and experiencing all the joy and wonder there. And it more than makes up for St Banda's unwelcome appearance. Well almost.