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Good times in Barcelona, Bad News at the RVI

25/02/2004

I had a great time in Barcelona: I won’t go on about it. It made me angry with England though. I loved the way they wrapped postcards up in thin paper, and took such care over small things. I really enjoyed the hot chocolate, like custard. I admired the varieties of lamp shades, and the millions of small businesses down alleys. And it was warm and lovely on our last day. I bought an orange coat and a purple skirt. When I got back I wrote a manifesto for Newcastle, which turned out to be rather fascist and luddite. I was in Barcelona with Bill Herbert and Linda France, writing material to accompany Northern Stage’s ‘Homage To Catalonia,’ that’s on in May.

Then this morning I went to get the results of last week’s liver scan, and I’m afraid that my breast cancer has spread into my liver. Although I know that something like this was bound to happen sooner or later I still feel shocked. It was, as my doctor said, a real OH SHIT moment.

This is what will happen….more scans first, and god knows what they will uncover. Then a choice of drugs… Vinorelbine …a drip, that doesn’t make your hair fall out..but which makes you tired and constipated..Capecitabine (xeloda) you take this orally…it can make hands and feet dry, and upset stomachs, or back to TAXOL…which worked really well before (from yew trees)…but the doc thinks we should save this up, like a trump card. Or just change the hormone treatment, as my cancer has always been very receptive to hormones. To be honest, at this point, I don’t know if I want anything. None of it sounds particularly appealing.

The thing to remember is that I am the same as I was yesterday. I feel fine, maybe a bit tired, but absolutely fine. It’s just my head that has changed. One thing I am sure about….this is the last Jan/Feb I shall spend in Britain. If I am still here in 2005 I am going back to Barcelona.

I shall keep everyone posted…and don’t worry if I have made some arrangement with you…I’ll let you know if I can’t do things.

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