Punch Bag

October 9, 2012 § 86 Comments

Doof – doof – doof – doof!

I seem to be the recipient of many of life’s blows.  Life is shit today on so many fronts I am not sure where to begin.

Sorry I didn’t post the times piece, but it didn’t run yesterday for lack of space, so I am holding off till next Tuesday, if I can be forgiven.

I am here, trying to convince myself that there can’t be any more shit in the world left to throw at me – oh about work, money, the kids, men, you name it.  But I am, oddly, not crying.  I don’t know why the fuck not.  I ought to be.  Perhaps it was because my mum sent me such a sweet and supportive and loving email and because Mrs Standard Bearer so wisely reminded me that Life Does Change.  I like her story.  One New Year’s Eve, she had to get up amongst her friends and talk about her hopes for the year ahead and she spoke of the three important things in life – family, housing, work – all being unmitigated shit for her right then.  And a button switched inside her.  Five days later she was with the man who is now her heavenly husband, and they are the best couple I know.

I’ve decided to take it from her.

Oh, and my outrageous Plankton friend across the pond just rang and made me laugh with her properly outrageous sex tips for plankton, which I won’t pass on because, foolishly, obviously, sex is a subject I tend to avoid on this blog (let’s face it, it is a subject not short of coverage online and everywhere else besides, who needs my tuppence’ worth?).  But anyway; tears averted.

And recourse to the book that makes me double up and cry with laughter, I mean, properly stomach-aching laughing, for whenever I feel like shit: Shit My Dad Says, it’s called.  Once, on a plane back from New York, I was heaving with laughter at it to such an extent that my then youngish child begged me to stop reading but I couldn’t and said child had to resort to asking the air hostess if it could move seats because it couldn’t sustain me in public as its mother.


§ 86 Responses to Punch Bag

  • I do feel for you Plankton. I had an equally crap week in which I was rejected for a much wanted job and am being managed (I use the term very loosely) but an imbecile colleague and I can’t see things getting any better in the near future.

    I had a little cry and felt much better afterwards.

    Good on you for embarrassing your child. Bonus points for doing it on a plane 😉

    LBB x

    • Jill says:

      Seconded, LBB. Very glad you have reappeared, P, but so sorry you are having such a bloody awful time. I am sure it will help to keep clinging to the mantra Life Does Change…..

      After a couple of weeks in which increasingly horrible and unpredictable things seemed to be happening to the sort of people who simply don’t deserve them, I have resolved to play Pollyanna’s Glad Game whenever I am tempted to feeel sorry for myself. Did you ever see the film, starring Hayley Mills, my childhood “crush”? I know how priggish that may sound, but it really does seem to help. (Better than the wax figures which I kept sticking pins into anyway…. 😀 )

      I’m glad that you have been able to have a good laugh today – there’s nothing better. This is a joke from a selection that the Mail on Sunday (I know…..) printed from Michael Winner’s new book, which made me laugh out loud when I read it….

      Hymie decides it’s time his son Jacob got married. So he and his wife, Becky, call in the shotchen. A shotchen is a Jewish lady who makes introductions with a view to marriage. “I vant you to find for my boy Jacob the most marvellous example of Jewish womanhood”, explains Hymie. The shotchen goes off and returns three weeks later.

      “Have I got a girl for your Jacob” she announces. “This girl runs a kosher house, she goes to a synagogue three times a week; not only that, she knows all the prayers by heart. This girl is the perfect example of Jewish womanhood at its finest. And on top of that, not only is this girl a lovely person, she is a real beauty. She’s beautiful”.

      Jacob says: “Excuse me,could I ask you something?”
      “Sure”, says the shotchen.
      “Is she good in bed?” asks Jacob.
      “Vell,” replies the shotchen. “Some say yes, some say no.”

      • Jill says:

        And, thank you, P – I have just found a secondhand copy of “Shit My Dad Says” on Amazon and it will soon be winging its way to me – your recommendation was enough for me…..And speaking of recommendations, I cannot emphasise enough how brilliant the play “One Man, Two Guv’nors” is, even though James Corden is no longer in the London production, but now on Broadway, wowing the New Yorkers. (N.B. MissBates….) If you want to laugh until you quite literally cry, please do try to get a ticket. I am hoping to go again some time soon as it was more restorative than a week’s holiday.

      • MissBates says:

        Thanks Jill, I did indeed see One Man, Two Guv’nors and laughed myself hoarse. I second your recommendation!

    • The Plankton says:

      Thank you. Though I hope it was embarrassing the child in a good way! Pxx

    • The Plankton says:

      Sorry, LBB, I meant to say I am so sorry about the job and hope that you get an even better one soon. Pxx

  • Lydia says:

    Ahm ,that’s where I’m going wrong. I’m reading a book about North Korea at the moment, rather than one that makes me laugh. Anyway poor plankton.

    I keep waking up thinking I have never been happier in my entire life even though the last man I met was 5 stone over weight. We can cal him The Fat Controller as he’s a railway man so I did 30 minutes on railways (I can talk about anything). He was very very disappointed as he was very keen. He is a lovely person. He would be just right for any woman who is fat herself (ie 60% of British women who are over weight) or who finds rolls of flesh even pushing through the shirt tolerable or who is asexual (more people in the UK are asexual than gay so good chance there are lots out there for him). Not just the weight – he is just not good with women and not clever enough. Never mind.

    I hope all your other problems get sorted out. Make sure your daughters become actuaries or ernst & Young parnters on £2m a year rather than going into art or journalism. Girls need to understand what a huge difference it can make to your life if you earn your own money and it is real money not pin money and that relying on male earnings for happiness is always unwise.

  • Scott Benowitz says:

    If it makes you feel any better, we had a water main break a block away from our street here this morning- There will be no showering, washing dishes or laundry, washing my hands nor my face, shaving, brushing my teeth, washing foods- nothing until tonight at the earliest…. still came to work on time this morning though, not looking my best….

  • EmGee says:

    I have heard of an interesting exercise to do when it seems like the world, or at least the powers that be are against you; make a list of the people and things that are making you unhappy. A week from now, make a llist of the things that you are happy about. Oddly enough, the lists are often identical.

    What a blessing to be down in the dumps and having people to, if not lift you out, then make you laugh while you are swimming in sh*t. 🙂

    Thanks for mentioning the book. I love a good read and a good laugh.

  • Sinead says:

    You’re not alone P.

    Life swop available. Short and long-term possiblities. Replies to …

  • Gladys Thong says:

    Another ‘Shit My Dad Says’ fan here. I read an excerpt in a weekend supplement and found myself laughing helplessly on the Tube, then had to buy the book. I always recommend it to people (and if someone doesn’t find it funny, you know they’re not your kind of people).

    Sorry that you’re under a cloud at the moment. Things can get you down (especially when you’re coping on your own, without a partner to cushion the blows) but the bad patch will pass too.

    • The Plankton says:

      I quite agree. I was talking about it the other night when some friends came to supper and found the book and showed it to them. One old friend was doubled up over the pudding and couldn’t put it down. I have lent it to a twninkle. I await his response, on which a lot depends… Pxx

  • AMJ says:

    I have missed these impromptu little slice of life posts. I like them better than the Times pieces, as they seem to *share* more and are less cloaked. My sympathies for your shitty time and hope tomorrow is a better day.

  • Scott Benowitz says:

    Are we still permitted to contribute posts here if we “get some”?

    I mean, technically speaking, then I’ll be out of planktonhood status….

    Don’t worry though, nothing to fear at all, and I mean NOTHING ….

    • Scott Benowitz says:

      In fact, now that I think about it, this might explain why we’ve not heard from Mr. / Mrs. T. Lover for a few weeks now…. …..

  • Fi says:

    oh dear. What’s happened? still not got a boyfriend? still, it could be worse – you could have just been diagnosed with breast cancer like me. But on second thoughts, not having a boyfriend is really much much worse isn’t it?

    • EmGee says:

      ((((Fi!))) That’s terrible! You have my best wishes on a healthy recovery. And every right to be feeling angry right now.

      • fi says:

        🙂 ta. Will just have to keep my chin up and get on with it. I did waver a bit today with the nurse, but only for about a minute then I pulled myself together 🙂

    • maria says:

      Oh f*ck, Fi! That’s awful! I’m so sorry! Life is shitty sometimes. There’s not much I can do to help, but you have my full support. Hang on in there.

    • Jill says:

      Just got home from an evening with friends, and was shocked to read your post just now, Fi. So very sorry to hear that you have had such rotten luck, but am very impressed by your stoicism and fortitude. I do agree with all of the above comments re the NHS and the efficacy of treatment nowadays – and as you say, thank goodness for the routine mammograms. And it’s good to hear that your local friends are rallying round and offering support and practical help already. I really hope that the medics can give you the absolute effective minimum of treatment, and that you will afterwards only think of this as a temporary blip. And just think of all those handsome doctors you may meet….! Thinking of you, and sending you many positive thoughts and all good wishes. x

    • malcolm says:

      😦 Sorry to hear this Fi, you get a big virtual hug from me too.

    • Elle says:

      Fi, sorry to hear that. Good luck with the treatment – I hope you recover as soon as possible.

  • zoe says:

    Fi, I am so very sorry. That is awful and shocking news. And news that should give all of us some perspective. You have come to feel like a dear and valued friend on this blog – aided by your lucid and feisty and fair-minded intelligence. I imagine the positive attitude that you bring to these pages will stand you in good stead in the coming months. My thoughts and my very best wishes are with you. x

    • fi says:

      Aw thanks. Thank god for the nhs screening as not even the doctor could feel it it’s so far back! Still its been caught early and I’m going back on wed to find out what the treatment will be but they think lumpectomy and radio. Still to be honest it happens to 1 in 3 folk so there’s no reason it wouldn’t be me, and its early, and I’m fit and healthy, and as a plankton I don’t really need my breasts for anything anyway 😆

      • T Lover says:

        Steady on. You are reacting normally but not rationally.

        First, lump in breast does not always mean cancer, far from it.

        Second, as you say, it is early days. You have not mentioned lymph nodes so I take it they have checked but not found any other signs.

        Third, breast cancer prognosis is improving all the time.

        Fourth, if it is a cancerous growth (which you don’t yet know) stay cool and do some research as to which centre and type of treatment you feel might suit you. Methods differ.

        Fifth, although you may not believe it now, I am 100% positive you will be fine. What’s more your outlook on life will change for the better. From now on you will live every moment to the very tip top.

        Finally your breasts. I have fantasies about the woman in the book shop. She had one removed and she is still sex on legs. Honest. But you are nowhere near that point, are you?

      • fi says:

        Hi T and welcome back!!. What they’ve said after 5 xrays and an untrasound is that they do think its cancer. I’ve had a core biopsy done and an appointent with the surgeon next week to find out what type it is and discuss treatment options. They think it will be a lumpectomy and will look at central lymph nodes at the same time as though they don’t think its spread, they’d rather be safe than sorry. The nhs is absolutely brilliant as I went for my first routine mammagram 3 weeks ago and I’m so impressed at the nhs, whoever looked at my scans, the 2 doctors I saw today and the fact I’ll likely get my lumpectomy in 3 weeks max. The speed of the process and friendliness of the staff was brilliant. I also think I’ll be fine – just a bit of a shock – but I’ve had no symptoms of anything wrong so actually if it wasn’t for the nhs screening programme I would have been none the wiser. But I do think I’m lucky and I think it will be fine. But its lovely you’re back! And thanks for cheering me up, which you have done.

      • T Lover says:

        A pal said exactly the same thing today. Terrific treatment, friendly staff.

        You will be fine, there is absolutely no danger of anything else although there may be ups and downs on the way.

        Christmas. Chemo might stop you drinking at Christmas and you might not feel like a second helping of pudding.

        You can choose from a terrific range of wigs. I think I fancy you blond. Although, they do look a bit daft if the rug doesn’t sit straight and they itch like mad – especially in the pub.

        Afterwards your life will change for the better afterwards. Believe me. Nailed on.

      • fi says:

        To be honest I think I’m a very very lucky woman. If I had had my mammagram 6 months ago it might not have picked up anything, and 6 months from now would have been much scarier. I even managed to get the last parking space at the unit today – and usually its street parking. And yes – I’ve always quite fancied trying blond. And anyway its a lumpectomy they’re talking about which means I’d still have breats. I’m just extremely grateful for how things have worked out so far – and my friends who have already offered shifts to take me for radio/chemo or whatever’s required. Anyway that’s enough about it as it’s going to get boring 🙂

      • T Lover says:

        Allez Fi-o, you will be fine.

        It will not be easy to face but in a few months the sleepless worry filled nights will be buried in the distant past.

      • Scott Benowitz says:

        T Lover- You’re back- last week, I’d thought that perhaps you’d lost your “planktonhood” status, if you know what I mean….

      • T Lover says:


        Back? Yes and no.

        Making comments on a blog and interacting with strangers across the world is a funny business. I thought my life would be better if I gave up – a lot to do, the blog had been an enormous help over the months, cathartic, but less so now.

        Add in my contribution which wasn’t really feminine. I mean: women interact with one another in a way men don’t. I wondered if I was a bit of grit in the eye.

        Judging by the number of comments in response to last week’s post, the re-appearance of many “old” commentators and emergence of new faces since my retirement, I also wondered (I am paranoid you know) if I was right, was I putting people off?

        I looked yesterday, read the news and just wanted to say: Chin up, Fi.

        I see you swim for charity. Well done. I thought you had ditched the jellyfish outfit.

  • Margaux says:

    Fi ..What a terrible shock. Big hug from me ..I will send positive thoughts through the keyboard to you. Please do keep us informed x

      • PY says:

        Fi ,I don’t really know what to say after all your frivolity and make/do over the past three weeks of you being with the knowledge. Absolute bummer re lump but glad it was picked up v early.

        Jo may not be immediately on hand but I hope you have the support you will need – whether from friends or immediate family . As you can see , you do have the support of your e-family .

        I would like to say ‘Hi’ to TLover – had an inkling you cared and were lurking so pleased to see my personal view was vindicated ..

        PY – big hug x

      • fi says:

        PY – thanks. Now I’ve told everyone and got some sympathy which is lovely, I’m going to forget all about it as in Scotland we say “what’s for you will not go by you” so I’m just going to leave it all in the lap of the gods.

      • PY says:

        Fair do’es , Fi , but accept another big hug to see you through the night. PYx

      • Jo says:

        Fi. Had to come back for you after this news. I’m so sorry to hear this, though as you say, to have it be caught early is a BIG bonus. A really big one.
        No 100% you will be fine from me. How do I know? Et al..(That’s not at all gloomy. Just real..). Rather, allow yourself to feel whatever you bloody well feel. Whatever. Whenever. And again, early is the best news you could possibly be given with this diagnosis. Puts you in the very best position.
        I will use that email you gave me. Have some great stuff to assist and uplift you. Meanwhile. Hug. Love. Jo xx

  • Jo says:

    PY. Just seen your post. Yes. Here I am!
    Have some great uplifting, helpful, supportive insightful, enlightening stuff to pass onto Fi. From the frontline.
    Winging its way..From this moment. Ad infinitum. x

  • MissBates says:

    Sorry to hear your news, Fi. Take care of yourself. You’ll be in my thoughts.

  • Fi- I participate in two annual charity fundraiser swimathon events, to raise funds for cancer research each summer for a charity group called Swim Across America- If you are curious, here’s the link to our site- http://www.swimacrossamerica.org

    I swim 0.5 miles in the Long Island Sound in our annual swimathon fundraiser in from the shore of Stamford, CT at the end of June, and I swim 1.0 miles in the Long Island Sound from the shore of Larchmont, N.Y. during our annual swimming fundraiser event at the end of July- I’ve been participating in these every summer since 2006, except for the years that the weather forces us to cancel these- I usually manage to raise somewhere in the vicinity of $500.00 for each event (x 2 separate events, meaning that I manage to raise approximately $1,000 for cancer research each summer)….

    Before the start of each swim, the organizers pass around a microphone and they ask us why we participate in these events, and there is also a board where we can write the reasons why we get up at 5:00 AM on a weekend morning to go swimming on the L.I. Sound shortly after sunrise here….

    Usually, I mention the names of members of my family who have had cancer, but if you’d like, next summer of 2013, I can say “For Fi….”

    If you’re worried about privacy, don’t worry, I’m reasonably certain that no one here will have any idea who you are- I’m guessing that whoever you are, your first name probably begins with the letter “F,” and either your middle name or your last name begins with “I”- No one will know anything more about you than that….

  • Doc says:

    Sorry to hear that life is treating you like a baby treats a diaper…

    Keep smiling – things will turn around eventually, and in the mean time everyone will wonder what you are up to… 🙂

    • Scott Benowitz says:

      Doc- that’s not true at all- Potentially encouraging words, but I’ve found that when several successive things go disastrously wrong in my life for several consecutive years, it sometimes (although not always) means that things are about to get far worse than I’d have ever imagined possible….

  • fi says:

    Ok. Thanks everyone for your good wishes. Since yesterday when I think I was in shock, I’ve now got a grip. Yep the docs think that’s what the lump is based on their experience and examinations so far, and consequently have booked me in with the surgeon, but until the test results come back, as T Lover said, I don’t know for sure. So panic over. However thanks for all the nice messages and I’ll wait and see what happens next week 🙂
    But hey – Tlover and Jo – nice to see you back. The lengths we commentators have to go to to get you back here !

    • Dr T Lover says:


      There is a worthwhile chance it won’t be a cancer – just a fluid filled lump.

      If it is, instead of all these virtual hugs you have been getting, you are going to get one almighty slap on the arse.

      • fi says:

        Well a slap on the arse would be ok. But they don’t think that which is why I have already been introduced to my breast cancer nurse and assigned my appointment with the surgeon and told which hospital will be doing my treatment. But if its all unnecessary so much the better 🙂

      • fi says:

        But yep. I probably shouldn’t have mentioned it yet – I just cracked. Sorry guys.

      • Dr T Lover says:

        Well now. Sit on my knee and I’ll tell you a story.

        My Grandmother tells my Mother that she has brought up a bit of blood. So she (G’ma) is carted off to hospital.

        The X-ray shows something on her lungs. The Consultant tell G’ma, who in best Chinese whispers, tells me Ma who tells me. Shadows on the lungs. Mother thought, I thought: cancer.

        So: I wake in the middle of the night and can’t get back to sleep. Not crying but that thing, you know, your face seems to distort and lock.

        I go downstairs and for perhaps three or four hours listen to Mozart, a requiem, over and over.

        The old fraud . It was just scar tissue. The blood? It might have been a bit of ham from a sandwich. I can see her saying it now. She put me through the mill and didn’t blink when she announced “must have been ham”. She lived on to 97.

        It is easy to think the worst. Remember when you were having the kids and the monitor stopped? First thought: the heart has stopped. Truth: the baby has moved and the sensor needs shifting.

        And if it is cancer, well, early stage, small growth, huge recent strides in treatment. You will be fine.

      • EmGee says:

        Honest, my first reaction was geez, grow a little perspective. Being this blog, and having cancer are on 2 complete different planes, but after a moments introspection, I thought Dammit! I probably would be feeling the same way, and it’s a pretty healthy reaction to just finding out, and that you’d soon ‘get a grip’ as you said, and did! ❤

      • fi says:

        Yes sorry for over reacting . The doctors think it is but it’s still waiting for the diagnosis to be confirmed. Maybe the thing I should have said was that I was worried that I won’t get another boyfriend. 😀

      • Dr T Lover says:


        Your reaction is the norm. I had a sore patch on my tongue last week. Cancer. Had to be.

        If a Doctor says I think that’s a tumour your mind goes bandit.

        Don’t worry. If it isn’t a cancer weigh that against an emotional over reaction.

      • Scott Benowitz says:

        T- You’ve been promoted…. you’ve finally received your PhD? Or your medical/ dental license? Congratulations, T !!! : )

    • Jo says:

      Fi. Please don’t apologise for ‘cracking’. For fuck’s sake. (S’cuse my language…)
      NOTHING to apologise for. As you say. It was a shock. And although you may feel up and down, normal and insane, positive (especially ‘cos it’s early) and negative, optimistic and fearful, strong and wobbly, stoic and a wuss, supported and lonely, humourous and gloomy, happy and unhappy, funny and weepy and any number of unpredictable things over the coming time. It’s all VALID. Just go with it… It’s fine.
      Don’t you dare apologise again. Otherwise I shall join T Lover in giving you that slap on the arse….
      Have sent you an email. X

      • fi says:

        Thanks. I am a bit concerned that after all the fuss I’ve caused it may turn out NOT to be cancer!!!

        Anyway – thanks for the email. I responded from my proper email address earlier so hopefully you’ve got it but let me know if not. Thanks again

      • Jo says:

        Fi. If it turns out not to be cancer, then there will be no thoughts that ‘you’ve caused a fuss’ (!). Rather, much rejoicing. Daft girl!
        If it turns out to be cancer then.. help is at hand. X

    • The Plankton says:

      Good wishes from me too. Pxx

  • Josephine says:

    So sorry to hear your sad news Fi, my thoughts & prayers are with you, I’m sure you will be fine & come out the other side a stronger person,it should bring it home to all of us what is really important, & be grateful for that, as they say count your blessings day by day.

    • Joules says:

      So sorry to hear this – I had my first screen a few weeks ago too but got better news. It is very good news they found it early, treatment is amazing now compared to just a few years ago. Not all chemo results in total hair loss. I helped my sis through colon cancer and the chemo that followed that (she is past the 5 year mark – 7+ – and even has had two children post chemo so all things are possible). If they do go down the chemo road get a silk/satin pillow. Means less hair loss as most of it is lost when you head rubs against the pillow at night.

      My advice is that now is the time to spoil yourself a little, give yourself little treats for getting through things. That can be just getting through a normal day when you are not feeling normal. Thinking about you and fingers crossed.

  • Plankton_When_a_Young_Man says:

    I just learned yesterday that my closest female friend has bladder cancer and now this, Fi! I hope they are wrong about it in your case — there’s no doubt in the case of my friend.

    • fi says:

      Thanks again everyone but I’m keeping a grip – “managing expectations” as us beaurocrats like to say – until wed.
      To be honest, with that whole 1 in 3 of us ratio there’s a sort of a “why NOT me” about the whole thing.
      Sorry about your friend with the bladder cancer.

  • june says:

    O Fi i havent been on here for a while, bless you hope all works out, ive had a friend who had it last year, she had to have a double masectomy as she had the gene, so to be on safe side had both removed, she is fine and enjoying life again.

    After the ;last time i was on here.decided i was being far too negative, thats why havent been on, i decided to pick myself up and stop being so down. And to be honest think its worked, no i havent met man of my dreams cause im not “thinking about it” but im going to pilates classes monday night, my friend wants me to start the dog sitting,we seem to have got a lot closer her and i, she doesent get on with her mum and as im nearer her mums age, she says she feel im a kind of substitute, that was nice Her relationship seems better, not perfect but better, so poss thats why, Ive signed up to do some befriending only hour or so a week just popping round and chatting to people not as fortunate with friends as me. ive an interview next week about it. Im sure i will still have down moments but hey thats life, sure meeting someone would be great but if it isnt going to happen it isnt,getting down all time wont change it.

    Hope Fi you hear better news, puts things in perspective doesent it. All best to you.

    • fi says:

      June – ta
      That’s great you’re doing all those things. I do think focussing on negative Things makes you more miserable, and I’m really glad that you’re enjoying life a bit more. Keep going. 😉

    • Margaux says:

      June – a pleasure to read this post from you …I agree with Fi – focusing inwards can just drag us into an ever increasing inner spiral of misery …focusing outwards is much better for our equilibrium. Good luck with the interview !

  • Alison says:

    Fi, I also haven’t been here for a while, life got a bit busy and I was sorry to hear your news but pleased also to see you are getting things sorted in your mind and hope very much that you will soon have this worry behind you.

    Its nice also to read how people are being more positive, such a dreadful phrase and perhaps I should say ‘less negative’ as that age old adage says ‘Misery loves company’ and its true we can all drag each other down but news that Fi has is a shock and for me at least – although I am not so devastated as some at not having a man in my life – makes me realise again that despite being overweight, partner-less and not much hope of having another relationship in the future, its ok, and I am content with my lot, and have my health.

    Good luck with the next set of tests and any treatment Fi


    • fi says:

      Here’s an update as I’ve already mentioned it and it saves anyone asking. But I don’t want to hijack anymore of Ps blog so it’s short. Eeeeeek. Well…as far as they go this one is a good one to have. Its small, caught early, not affected by hormones, slow growing, doesn’t look as though its reached my lymph glands. Pre-op assessment next week and then op a couple of weeks after that. Treatment determined after that. But hey ho. Could be worse. 😉

      • zoe says:

        Thanks for the update, Fi. You are in my thoughts these days. x

      • Jill says:

        Well, fi, I am so pleased to hear all of that; it sounds as if the prognosis is as positive as you are. I was plucking up courage to enquire today if you had had any further news this week. “Sleepless in Hampshire” is delighted to read that despite your sh*tty luck in actually having a lump, the little bugger “is a good one to have” (as far as they go.) Here’s hoping it will very soon be a good one to have got rid of, and all this will be just a distant blip in the course of your life. x

      • joules says:

        Thanks for info. Hope they get the little bugger and all goes well. Fingers crossed. Stay strong.

  • Tremendous issues here. I am very happy to see your post.
    Thank you a lot and I’m having a look forward to touch you. Will you kindly drop me a e-mail?

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