Game of Thrones addiction

I simply can't explain it but I am absolutely addicted to Game of Thrones...it's violent and disrespectful plus all the sci-fi/fantasy elements have been done before.  But, there's the ridiculously quick-witted dwarf, loyal dragons, funky outfits and let's not forget Jon Snow.  And I can't be the only one with this closet obsession - it's one of the highest rating shows.  Why?!

Do women actually create their own glass ceilings?

I went to a talk yesterday by a rather amazing lady - she was honest, articulate, intelligent and altogether inspiring.  She has held very senior positions in big companies (banks/insurance companies) but she didn't actually seek such roles out.  She liked fixing problems and told people the truth of whatever situation they were in.  I think she was actually quite modest too :) But...

Her honesty seemed to be juxtaposed to her gender - after all women 'have to be' nurturing...and somehow we (females included) role gentle and diplomatic into this definition of female nurturer. This lady was therefore labelled "a b!tch".   Her first task whenever she stepped in to a new role was, therefore, to disassemble this preconceived idea by taking an active interest in those around her.  She had to over-compensate for being a female leader by being extra 'female'?!

She gave a great example of the stereotypes we women reinforce (adding to our own glass ceilings). Have you ever seen the response Father's get when they drop their children at school...?  It's "Hero or Zero", ie.
   Hero = isn't that wonderful, what an amazing Father being so involved with his kids, or
   Zero = why doesn't he have a job/what's wrong with him?
And what response do women get when they drop their kids at school - absolutely nothing!  It is expected of them to perform this duty.   It really is food for thought....

I unfortunately have the opposite affliction in that I'm too diplomatic to call a spade a spade (I skirt around the edges hoping my recipient hears the subtle hints I drop).  I'm therefore 'not strong enough' to be truly Senior at work.  Or perhaps that's another preconceived idea about what it takes to be the boss????

Your first ever teacher....

Tomorrow my son meets his first ever school teacher.....I can't articulate the range of emotions I feel and I'm sure his little heart and mind are riding a similar roller-coaster!

Can you remember your Grade 1 teacher?  Mrs Mercer was mine - she was tall (or was that because I was so tiny [nothing has changed I hear a few of you say ;)]), kind and ridiculously patient.  I thought she was perfect - please, please let my son have a similar experience   xo

Famine, slavery, dictators - is 5 too young to build a child's social conscience?

I found the most extraordinarily confronting book today in the children's section of the library...It's called Dust and was written "for all children who do not wake up safe and comfortable".  It is a child's voice detailing his own death from starvation.  The images are awful but perhaps brilliant.  I won't be showing my son but it did get me thinking - why?  If I show him will it sink in, will he be more grateful, will he be a more community aware adult?   Here are a few of the illustrations - what do you think?

Kardashians - feminist role models or useless piles of commercial excrement?!

OMG!  Can you believe it, a Kardashian - can't remember which one (they all blur into one butt loving bundle of boredom to me) - is doing a TV series on how to look better after a break-up.

I am officially in that space now where anything the Kardashian's do is annoying.  But the first step to recovery is acknowledging the problem.  Let's try to objectively and intellectually rationalise their commercialism;

Perspective Number One:
At least the Kardashian's are not stick-insects and helping to repair a women who has been devastated by a relationship breakdown is great.  They can help these ladies rebuild their sense of worth, give them the confidence to launch themselves back into the dating scene, perhaps even find true love? 

Perspective Number Two:
.....because finding a man and having a boob/bum/jaw/eye/nose job is the best way to value oneself.  Congratulations Kardashian's for reinforcing to young girls that their partner's flaws or the relationship's demise is a result of their appearance - you go girrrlll! 

They really are useless, over-paid, handbag wielding piles of commercial excrement.  Ohh cr@p... session 1 of my recovery clearly hasn't gone well...

Beetroot lipstick

I just read an article that told me to suck on Beetroot ice cubes to have permanently 'natural' red lips....seriously who has the time to discover this stuff!

After the cucumber on my eyes, the beetroot on my lips and the brewed lettuce (to help you sleep?!) I'll have nothing left for the salad I'm suppose to eat for lunch.

Who does Christmas better - Mother Theresa or Taz (the Tasmanian Devil)?

Warning: this post is all over the place, much like where my head is at today!

Christmas is a time to reflect, to be appreciative and to surround yourself with loved ones....

Then why do I feel like a Tassie Devil whirling around accumulating presents, expectations and bills, whilst balancing an impenetrable timetable, bribing two ungrateful little-ones with ridiculous stories about an all-seeing overweight, bearded white guy with an endless supply of Chinese plastic and doing it all with a 'really I like Christmas' smile...someone hand that women a wine!


Of course one must also cope with this festive season whilst continuing to purchase organic foods, cook paleo dinners, prepare sugar-free lunches, clean the house (but not too much so as to render the children's immune system deficient), sort a few (hopefully clean) clothes so my children don't arrive at childcare naked, be 'present' with my children, remember I have a husband, sort the freakin heating/cooling out which has been repaired 15 times (in a house that is not even two years old - go Glenvill ;), celebrate the 7 birthdays my family manages to squeeze in 6 weeks prior to Christmas, sort the finances, do my job, be mindful, exercise daily and remember.....
... I have a house to clean, I can afford to buy organic food and children's toys, I can read paleo recipes and I have a beautiful family.

Things are not balanced for me at the moment - I'm not exercising, the chocolate is creeping back in (ahh hell, let's be honest, it's flooding back in via morning tea, afternoon tea, Christmas lunches, end of year presents and any other avenue that offers that irresistible velvet elixir), my meditating is barely existent and my blogs are sporadic.   But it's Christmas - the city is alive with buskers and garish red tinsel on my walk to work, my children are inexplicably happy with images of reindeers, I have three weeks off work and a whole lotta Summer to enjoy....Ho, Ho, Ho

Politics and Schools : will fear or fascination win?

To my son,

Next year marks a major milestone in your little life – you start school!  I am so excited for you as I know how ready your amazing mind is to absorb all the wonder of our world.  You will be exploring countries, learning Mandarin, kicking like Elliott and playing the recorder like…what adult on earth plays the recorder?!  Anyways, the point is, your life and understanding is about to grow exponentially.    And it is in this breadth of information that I find myself drowning…

You have already thrown me a few curveball questions that despite my education and genuine desire to be as free as possible from bias, I find myself answering ineffectively:

“Mummy, do days stop?”

“Mummy, is Heaven real life?”

“Mummy, are men with towels on their heads baddies?”

You don’t know yet what racism is, you are yet to see the atrocious lengths some people will go to in order to secure power, money, land or fame, you are yet to experience your sister being paid less than you for doing the same job.  You “read” the paper for the footy results but I see your eyes scan other pages and a frown settle on your face – what does that little mind think when it sees images of bloodies bodies, AK-47s and smiling assassins?

You ask a question and (generally!) accept my answer.  And so it is upon me to try to articulate to a 5 year-old the complexities of our current political landscape…. 

I don’t want you to grow up with hate in your bones or prejudices in your mind.   But I also don’t want you to be unnecessarily hurt from your own naivety.   Most people are good – the vast majority of people are good but, quite simply, some are not.  There will be some people who want to hurt you, some people who want to rule you, some people who want to use you and some people who derive their own worth by putting you down.  You cannot tell who these people will be by their religion, their bank balance or their beauty.  That is as true on a school playground as it is in world politics.   Adults play the same games as children do but are unfortunately armed.

I cannot shield you from all of this (P.S. Dad – that’s why Mum gets teary when we talk about school!), for to do so would mean a hermit life ….   So instead, be aware that hatred and cruelty are out there but they live in minute, squalid pockets.  Trust your instincts when it comes to removing yourself from a dangerous situation.   Judgments are your body’s defense mechanism.  But judge people on how they treat you not on the colour of their skin, nor their nationality, nor their gender. 

Start your thoughts with kindness, knowing most people will reciprocate.  Share your ideas generously and listen to the ideas of others, knowing that you are seeking the best outcome not your outcome.   

Most of all, step in to the world knowing that I love you as much as the whole wide world plus infinity!

Mum xox

Inside my nightmare - surgery versus flying

I survived another surgery yesterday and statistics show this is quite the norm.

The rather cold operating theater was abuzz with my surgeon, the anesthetist, assisting doctors and nurses.  The melody of their conversation was calming but then I looked at that awful trolley loaded with various size "knives" and I felt a little apprehensive...

Oh well I told myself - it's still better than Wednesday!  What happened on Wednesday I hear you say?  I had to fly from Melbourne to Sydney return.  This flight is just over an hour - a hop, skip and a jump.  It is one of the busiest (9th busiest route in the world which is quite extraordinary given our little population!) and safest flight paths in the world.  The 'normal' passenger gets on the plane, has a quick nap, a light snack and is back on the ground again - easy!

Not for me....I've never liked flying (although I've always liked travelling?!) but since having Cancer I am living proof that fears can be quite irrational (and all consuming).  The minute that plane takes off every muscle in my body tenses, I start to sweat and talk frantically to the poor souls seated around me.  I try desperately to focus on that thud when the wheels hit the ground safely again.

Some people say it's about control (or lack thereof) but I sure as hell don't want to be flying the thing! I love other people driving and I don't batter an eyelid when I step on a train.  So I think "control" is an oversimplification.  I think, for me, it's the finality - no amount of airbags can save an airbus.  I didn't fight cancer to go down in a plane.

I have no idea how I'm going to get to Hawaii for my birthday next year - a whole lot of Xanax and a beautiful family who I don't want to let down...

Can someone please invent a commercial rocket submarine by next December - please xox

He didn't even get 18 weeks to live...

I've had a bit of fun with my posts of late but some awful news on the weekend abruptly reminded me of why I started this blog.  In early September I wrote about my Dad's bestie from High School - Mr TJ (18 months to live - what would you do?) who was diagnosed with Grade 4 skin cancer and given 18 months to live. He didn't even get 18 weeks....

I'm in shock that this big, burly Aussie bloke has been taken already.  His height and stature gave me the false impression that he was indestructible.  

He was my Santa Clause personified - he had a huge, jolly laugh, he was honest and brave.  He was kind and just a little bit cheeky.  He had an affinity with the land and the sea - enjoying solo camping trips and dedicating his life to patrolling and protecting our ocean.  

I didn't have the opportunity to share enough of my life with him but those painfully real and open conversations I shared with him in September will stay with me forever.  I know that sounds cliche but I also know that there are very few conversations deeper than your own mortality.  TJ shared his experience openly and with a courageous humour that only an Aussie larrikin can muster.   

I can only imagine how sad and angry his family must be.  I extended every drop of compassion to them and, whilst I want to somehow make it better I'm not going to write some bullsh!t about being grateful for the time they had.  People experience such an intense discomfort when someone shows grief so we try to 'wash it away' by saying things like "be grateful for the time you had", "isn't it great he lived a full life".  And whilst that's all technically true, it's still deeply painful and unfair that he's gone.  

The only small consolation I have is that I wrote my blog for him in time for him to read it and he sent me the most heart warming texts in the subsequent days.  Wrap those you love in the biggest hug and tell them daily why they're special... xoxo

Back to Your Future - a message from Marty on 2045

Unless you've been marooned on some faraway, completely isolated island you would know that we have finally arrived in.....the future! 

On the 21st October 2015 Marty McFly and Doc Emmett Brown arrived from the past in their DeLorean (I seem to be developing quite a connection to the Back to the Future series with all my Emmett Brown references!).  In the 80's twenty-fifteen seemed so very far away...and the writers must have thought they were revolutionary in their predictions.

Whilst the flying cars and re-hydrating pizzas have not been produced (at least to my knowledge) they were pretty accurate with the flat widescreen TVs, tablets and video chat. 

It got me thinking...what do we think 2045 will look like?  Don't think about monetary or technological constraints, just think about the most awesome and life altering invention you can think of.  And imagine what you will be doing in 2045?!

I know a 30 year plan is rather unrealistic (especially considering I've never done a 5 year plan!) but dreaming big seems to be something that is squashed out of us as we grow up. 
Imagine the fun and crazy conversations that would ensue if you asked a room full of children what 2045 would look like....but adults put caveats and disclaimers on their dreams or worse still don't have them.   After all our goals must be S.M.A.R.T (specific, measurable, attainable, realistic and timely).  Well - why don't you just line up innovation alongside creativity and shoot them both!

So - I'll set a challenge for you all.  Write down a dream, put a time stamp on it and now it's in the digital memory bank we'll have a chance to go back and see how hilariously inaccurate or unnervingly accurate we were...

My 2045: people will fly (no need for flying cars McFly), spinach will taste like chocolate, trees will dominate our landscape with houses surreptitiously incorporated, I'll be alive and well celebrating (on the Whitsunday Island I somehow acquire) the birth of my 5th grandchild and my job will be buying people gifts and exploring the world!

Death of Kardashianism

We seem to live in a world controlled by the fear of anonymity.  More people than ever are striving to get their noggins on YouTube!  It doesn’t seem to matter if you have any particular talents or attributes – just get your face on YouTube, increase your Twitter followers and post pictures of your over-manufactured derriere on Instagram (or is it Snapchat or Pinterest?). 

So, besides sounding like a dinosaur that has no idea of the current ‘it’ digi channel, my point is I’m really fearful of the current reverence given to the likes of the Kardashians.  I understand and respect the worshiping of sporting heroes and movie stars.  After all they actually possess a talent and in many cases display an incredible level of skill.  But what are the Kardashians actually good at?  And are they so good at something that they deserve the ridiculous amount of money they earn?  Can they sing, dance, act, play tennis, football or run, can they drive social change, public policy or inspire women to get an education?

It’s not that I hate the Kardashians, I simply don’t get the fascination!  I don’t want my daughter growing up thinking the epitome of success is the latest Dolce & Gabbana handbag.  I don’t want her to think she needs a nose job, a bum implant and some over exposed cleavage to be heard (yes heard [not seen]).  I want her to admire someone intelligent, brave, kind, skilled, entertaining, humble or selfless – there are so many attributes I can think of that are admirable but not one of them fits the Kardashians.....

Fighting for principles of respect, understanding and less lamb chops

I got a flyer in our mail today for the Animal Justice Party.  There's a beautiful photo on the front of a lamb and an adorable, inquisitive kitten on the back.  Awww.  Baby animals = Marketing 101, so I read on...

"The Animal Justice Party (AJP) has been established to provide a political platform for policies and practices that promote respect, kindness, compassion and understanding towards animals".  

Sounds perfect to me - as long as PEOPLE are part of their definition of animals.  Imagine it - a world where people respect differences, lead with compassion and strive to understand...I reckon animals of all breeds would do well!

Don't get me wrong, I entirely agree we should be respecting animals I just wonder if our compassion is a little warped when we'll help a cat but walk straight past a young girl living on the streets?   It's that uncomfortable feeling I get when I read Johnny Depp has spent $320,000 flying his pet dogs home via private jet.  I'm sorry but WTF Mr Depp!  But is it really Mr Depp's issue - we live in a world where that's OK.  We can feed and educate a child for $2 a day...how many kids did that private jet fee equate to??

It all comes back to balance - my favourite but seemingly unattainable goal.  There is no place in our world for animal cruelty, animal testing and in theory I love the idea of Veganism (don't seem to be able to execute that one).   But  I'm sure I've never heard of a kind, compassionate person mistreating an animal - seems like an oxymoron to me.

KFC and gastro

On Thursday night my 2 year old daughter started throwing up about 4.30pm and continued to do so every half an hour.  By 7pm the poor little soul was exhausted and miserable and Mum couldn't take any more...so off to the hospital we went (I should mention, as I've noticed a few Americans have joined, that this service is free in Australia).

The staff were really kind, telling us there were several cases of gastro going around.  We were put in the "handle with gloves" bays and my daughter soon relaxed after some anti-nausea medication. I was super impressed with their non judgmental approach.  I was never made to feel like an "over reacting" Mum.   I was musing on this, when I overheard a doctor tell the family in the bay nextdoor to monitor their daughter's diet.

"No probs" said the Dad casually
The doctor went on to recommend "no dairy, lots of veggies and plenty of fluids....avoid soft drink" there was an almost pleading tone to the doctor's voice.

Soft drink!  Who on earth would give their child a can of Coke straight after a fit of Gastro?!  And it only got worse - when I walked past to leave I saw the child (maybe 6 or 7 years old) eating a big box of KFC.  When I saw this, all judgments left me and I was overwhelmed by a genuine sadness - where are our health and education systems failing that some people have so little nutritional understanding?  Or perhaps what is even more frustrating is that we've built a food supply chain that can sell a box of fat-covered chemicals at a much cheaper price than fresh food...

Now I'm no Saint - who doesn't enjoy a McDonald's chocolate sundae (sauce on the bottom and top thanks) every now and again.  And perhaps, just maybe, that is the only food option these parents had available to them.....?

18 months to live - what would you do?

Mr TJ is my Dad's bestie from High School - they have a friendship that has spanned 50 odd years, several countries, a couple of marriages, business ups and downs and a health scare or two...(may you all have a friend like this xo)

I met TJ when I was little, really little and he seemed like the biggest human being on earth!  He is very tall and generously proportioned but I have never been scared of him even when I only came up to his knee caps.  He is kind to the core and has a hearty, warm and frequently-used laugh.  He is the personification of the image we push to our children of Santa.

TJ has devoted his life to protecting our marine life particularly from large, foreign (and often illegal) fishing vessels.  I am sure his intimidating frame and big, burly voice helped him on the job (but I'd rather keep the Santa Clause imagery!).  It's a particular type of lifestyle - endless patrolling of the sea and complete exposure to the sun...the latter of which will ultimately cost him his life.  TJ has Grade 4 skin cancer and has been given 18 months to live.

I had the privilege of talking to him in person yesterday and was amazed at his strength and humbled at the dignity he displayed in sharing this horrible information.  I'm not sure if I used the right words to comfort him or whether that's even my role to play.  At some points in the conversation I had no words at all...but perhaps that's OK too. Being sad, being angry and being uncomfortable are 'right' emotions.   The two overriding emotions for me were:

1. ANGER:  He is too young and the world, his world, will be sadder without him.  It sucks and it's not fair.  This gentle giant (rather fittingly) had 2 daughters and now 3 granddaughters - ask any of them if there is a silver lining!!!

2. GRATEFULNESS:  I caught my Cancer early, I have two beautiful children, a loving family amazing friends and the 'leave-pass' to tell them all, whenever I can, that they rock :)

I can do little to help TJ - I'm not a doctor and my quest for wellness guru status is largely failing as I allow myself to get drawn back in to the Busy Delusion.  I think I'm writing this blog to let him know how I have always viewed him - brave, kind, honourable and just a little bit cheeky.  Now fight TJ - fight to prove them wrong, fight to enjoy your world, fight to see your horse make it over to the big-time Melbourne spring racing carnival!

And for the rest of us....be kind and don't stress the little things (yes, that's the sum of my philosophy today...just call me Socrates ;)

Hmmm...delicious chocolate balls - no cooking, no sugar, no worries!

Cacao Balls

These are a winner in my house with the adults who appreciate something to curb the sugar cravings and even with the kids who, at this stage, are convinced they're "chocolate balls".

Ingredients
200g blanched almonds or pecans or walnuts or a mixture - whatever you like!
1/4 cup pepitas
2 tablespoons chia seeds
250g pitted dates
1/3 cup goji berries (can substitute with low-sugar craisins if you're not worried about the sugar)
1/4 cacao power
2 tablespoons water
1 teaspoon vanilla bean paste
1 tablespoon rice malt syrup (optional - you don't have to put this in if you want them to be 100% no added sugar but I like the way it helps the ingredients bind together)
Coconut for rolling

Instructions
1. Put the 200g of mixed nuts in a food processor and finely chop
2. Add all the other ingredients into the same food processor and finely chop (you should end up with the mixture being like a lumpy-paste)
3. Roll the mixture in to balls and coat with coconut
4. Refrigerate, preferably covered, for about an hour (they can then be stored in an air tight container in the pantry...I'm not sure how long for as they never last longer than 2-3 days in my house!).

Enjoy xo

It's confronting for a lady to be bald!

I can't wait for my hair to grow back!  Yes, this is partly vanity but, more importantly, it will stop the 'side' conversations my husband, sister and parents are frequently required to have.  Well meaning folk (who are not privy to this awesome blog ;) often pull them aside to say "is your wife/daughter/sister OK?" and so the explanations start all over again...

Not sure why I'm blogging about this - I think to highlight the extended effect this annoying disease has and to thank my beautiful family who equally shoulder the burden.   xox

What TO DO for a friend who is sick

I have had the most overwhelming level of support from my family and friends, my work and even relative strangers following my cancer diagnosis.   I cannot imagine those poor souls that are forced to endure these experiences alone (makes me think [again!] about how I'm going to squeeze community service into this busy life!).  This support has taken many forms so I thought I'd share the most helpful....

My top tips for what TO DO to help:
1. Cook healthy dinners.
Isn't it funny that when someone is sick we have a strange desire to feed them something unhealthy (cakes, cookies, chocolates). Pre-cancer, I would have been the first to do this (as my chocoholic reputation would demand) now I understand that a good, healthy dinner is one of the most useful gifts someone can provide.  My beautiful mother's group have rotated this gift and once a week my family receives amazing dinners (from hearty beef & veggie casseroles to chicken & veggie pies).  Instead of going to the supermarket, cooking and cleaning I literally get a couple of hours back in my day where I can rest, recover and/or spend non chore based time with my children.  XoXo

2. Arrange play dates
(A) Kids.....compare (1) an afternoon with Mum who can't lift you for a cuddle, can't play footy, is slightly hazy given the drugs (OK-maybe that part could offer some entertainment!) and has turned into a bit of an anti-sugar tyrant versus (2) an afternoon with kids of a similar age where you can run, scream and load up on lard/sugar.
(B) Husband.....a day out at the footy could be just what the doctor ordered for this over-worked, under-paid but greatly appreciated Chief Support Officer!

3. Helpful gifts
I'm not talking about expensive presents.  I mean little gifts that practically support someone's recovery.  For example, my wonderful Mum knitted me a beanie in a particular colour I needed to match existing clothes, my gorgeous cousin found a 'funky' beanie, my thoughtful Auntie gave me a little glass jar to put a fresh flower in each day, a generous friend from work gave me a mindfulness book & diary and another kind friend gave me a special memento that helped her through a similar battle.  A very smart friend gave my husband some strong coffee beans to cope with being both Mum & Dad at night!

4.  Do some errands
A 'cancer-friend' (what a strange title!) told me about her support network which included someone going to the Organic Markets for her and another friend who collected the dry-cleaning/walked the dog/posted mail etc.  I haven't had as much need for this but it sounded super practical and helpful to me!

5.  Be yourself
Drop the awkward and have a laugh!

What TO SAY to someone who receives bad medical news

When someone we love is sad or angry we have an overwhelming urge to 'make it go away'.  We comfort them with words such as "it's OK", "stay positive" or "it's great they found it early".  People are so fundamentally uncomfortable with these two emotions that they inadvertently ignore them or blatantly dismiss them!

I was speaking to a friend today who requires a hysterectomy due to complications following the birth of her 2nd child.  With all good intentions her family and friends have been telling her how lucky she is that she's had 2 children....which, for her, has been translated as - don't you complain that you can't have a 3rd.  Inside she is grieving, angry that a really fundamental choice has been taken away from her but outwardly she is 'not allowed' to complain.

I think back over some of my friendships and cringe as I reflect on 'advise' I have given friends who struggled to have a 2nd child.  I recall myself saying "you have such a beautiful son already" etc etc At the time there was nothing but love and caring behind the words but in hindsight I see how unhelpful they are.  So, firstly, my sincerest apologies!  Secondly, yes there are some people who can not have any children (and I feel deeply, deeply sorry for them) but offering someone 'perspective' when they are stumbling down their path of grief is, unfortunately, like telling an amputee not to worry as they have another leg.

My top tips for what TO say:
1. "That sucks!"  Let someone be angry and/or sad.
2. "There is no f..... silver lining to cancer".
3. Say nothing!  Let them talk, grieve, vent, hurt
4. Ask them if they actually do want to talk about it.  Perhaps they've had enough of explaining what the doctors said and when the treatment(s) will be?!
5. Offer your support, help and shoulder - solutions aren't necessary

Hospital Beats - Song #3: Losing Raspberry

Envisage 'angry' music.  You know, that hard core heavy metal where there are so many guitar notes smashed together you can't actually decipher a tune and the lead singer is screaming rather than singing.  That's the back drop for this hospital beat.  Raspberry (AKA my right drain tube) has been given the thumbs up to be removed....

I smiled naively at the nurse when she walked in, blissfully unaware of the pain she was about to inflict!  She took a good 10 minutes to work her way through all the tape they had used to secure the drain tube (apparently stitching it into my body wasn't enough!).  Each time she tugged at the tape she put pressure on my significant cuts and at one stage was using my recently placed 'bolt-ons' as the anchoring point for her hand.   I was working up quite a sweat in an effort to manage the pain but otherwise kept my cool (although "an angry song" was brewing).

She then warned me I'd feel 'a little sting' as she cut the stitches.  I shut my eyes and breathed deeply. Sure enough a few 'little stings' but overall quite manageable.  "Ok, now you'll feel another little sting as we remove the tube.  Can you take a deep breath in for me Sarah?"

I did as I was instructed, taking a big breathe in.  The nurse proceeded to "remove the tube" whilst I screamed in my head every c-bomb, f-bomb expletive I could think of in the angriest song I'd ever heard.  A LITTLE f@#!ing sting - it felt like she'd taken a hot iron rod and dragged it from my arm pit to my waist.  "There we go love, it's all done".  Luckily for her I've been built with this firewall that prevents me from getting angry at people.  

I smiled wearily and sank back in to the pillows - my only thought was, oh my goodness I have to do that all again with Strawberry!  The nurse put some padding on my side, then clicked her tongue in disapproval.  "Hmm, there's a little bit of leakage" she said as she swapped the padding for a thicker variety.  A third pad was used and finally after 10 awkward minutes she was satisfied she could tape it up.

I have subsequently found out that this nurse forgot to turn off the suction before removing the tubing.  So whilst the tube was coming out, it was diligently still sucking out whatever it passed by...hence the burning sensation and pile of gunk!