Wednesday, 13 January 2016

Optimism.





I am a glass half full kinda gal, I am sure I have mentioned this before. If I was gonna go for full disclosure, I might be tempted to cop to being a fill that fucker up kinda gal, but the half full option is more polite.

A while back I planted some tomato seedlings and since then have periodically been flashing up progress pics. To say I am very impressed with myself is quite the understatement. Yeh I have managed to grow a bit of straggly rosemary and more recently even a bit of Basil which Belly harvested for me and then she showed me how to slow roast the extra stuff for later. I just chucked that dried extra into my spag bol for tonight's dinner. Yep I really am a farmer.

The tomatoes are taking forever. There have been hundreds of little yellow flowers and the bushes' smell takes me back to the crop my dad grew, but to date there has been nothing that looks like the ones in the shops and that is my sad old criteria. I wont be eating anything that looks wierd. Yep I want 'em to be perfect.

So imagine my delight when yesterday's inspection revealed a reddening up of the first couple of tommies. This might actually be working.

There are dozens of rungs of fruit. Are they called that? or maybe stalks or vines or ladders. Really as my status of Farmer is make believe I haven't a clue, but there are lots and lots of greenies coming and as 2 have started ripen I reckon the others might do so too.

So instead of chucking out the bottle from the cook in lazy man's Indian sauce I used for left over spark up dinner last night, I kept it and put it through the disher in the ever optimistic hope that my crop will be so vast that I will have to oven dry some and bottle 'em up.

The bottle is not big, but it made me giggle like a girl when I discovered how pleased I am with myself.

I got my scores back from Dr Greg yesterday. The drop from 80 to 36 to 5 - yeh that's right FIVE, is bloody remarkable. White cell counts should be between 4 and 10. Yippee for my body behaving itself.

He said I was doing well. I did a little celebratory jig in the bath where I was lying amid the rolled oats and olive oil salve, when I spoke to him. ( Lucky it wasn't a skype call!) I was very pleased with the speed and efficacy of this stuff. I might have some shitty side effects but that shit is really working!

He also said that I am now Anemic - the shit is dragging away the red cells too. I should have guessed that cos I am tired and a bit breathless, ho fucking hum.

What I do wonder is how does the bone marrow know that the drugs have done their job and that attack on the white cells and all the rest of it can now stop.

I am to take this stuff til I am dead, and I don't know how the count down doesn't keep going down to nothing.

So for the second time this week I am aware of my optimism. I reckon I will that bottle and I reckon the Dr Greg knows what he's doing and that he will be able to explain it to me next time I am there.

Yippee.