It’s been 10 days since surgery and to be honest it feels like about 2. Admittedly I have been asleep for a lot more of those 10 days than I normally would, but it’s amazing how time can drag and speed up at the same time. The boredom of being sat at home for days on end, unable to do anything interesting, in various stages of discomfort and pain has been duller than a dull thing. But the ease with which one day slips into another, and then becomes a week, is frightening.
I’ve got nothing to do and nowhere to go, so I’ve been wandering around the local fields on short trips out with the dogs, befriending the cows and sheep that live in our nearby fields. We’ve discussed several things, me and the cows, and it almost feels like being back in the office of a place I used to work in, a few years ago. It was an animal charity, just to be clear. I would never ever compare any of my former colleagues to farm animals. Not even Donkey Dave.
I have arm and shoulder exercises to do, three times a day, which at least gives me some structure to my day. I’d like to do them at breakfast, lunch and dinner, but have had to reschedule my exercises to times when my children aren’t around. Not because it upsets them to see me doing them. No, because whenever I do them, they think it’s highly amusing to join in with the full song and dance routine of the Birdie Song. Children are very unpleasant creatures at times.
I’ve stayed away from daytime TV because, well, it’s daytime TV and I have enough on my plate already without despairing of the entire human race, so I’ve been trying to work where I can, and the rest of the time, well, I’m afraid I’ve been sucked into an internet swamp researching cancer treatments.
Facebook now thinks it knows me so well that it is spamming my pages with Macmillan and wig adverts. I love Macmillan, they’re a great charity, but I’m not going to be doing any fundraising skydives for them any time soon because heck, I have cancer. It’s like a vicious perpetual circle. The conversation that must be happening inside the algorithm making this happen must be like some twisted Eddie Izzard sketch:
Algorithm: Aha, we see that you are posting about ‘cancer’, here is some cancer content for you.
Me: I don’t require any cancer content, I have enough cancer already.
Algo: But you are talking about cancer, frequently, therefore we must increase our offer of cancer to you.
Me: No, I already have cancer, I don’t want any more.
Algo: But you may run out of cancer. Have you considered purchasing more cancer, in a different colour perhaps? Here are details of testicular cancer for you to consider.
Me: No thank you. Please go away.
Algo, But we can’t help but notice that your cancer looks so good on you, surely you must be interested in this new, spring seasonal cancer, in yellow, with ducks and daffodils?
Me: Can you fuck off now please?
Algo: Have you thought about donating to a cancer charity? Here are some sob stories to make you feel terrible.
Me: I don’t want to see that content, please switch it off.
Algo: Well madam, if you don’t mind our saying, you started it.
Me: Started what?
Algo: All the cancer stuff. We were perfectly happy sending you funny goat content and stationery adverts, but you went and changed the parameters.
Me: Right, so if I stop looking at your cancer community support pages, you’ll stop sending me charity begging adverts?
Algo: Eventually, yes
Me: Right, so maybe I’ll just do that then.
Algo: Fine. And maybe stop talking about bloody cancer so much then, if you’re not interested in it?
Algo: If you would like to opt out of our Cancer promotions, please click here.
(Two minutes later)
Algo: Hi, we see you’ve been looking at “terrible wigs”, here are some more terrible wigs for you to look at.
Me: Thank you, but I accidentally found my way to that picture of the awful wig and I never, ever want to see it again.
Algo: Here is the wig you looked at. We can see you’re still interested in it. Perhaps a 10% discount might tempt you further?
Me: It is a shitting awful cheap shite wig from hell, that would go up in flames if I rubbed my knees together too quickly.
Algo: Flammable wigs? Why certainly, here is a selection of nylon wigs with free shipping from China.
Me: You said you would stop sending me cancer content.
Algo: This isn’t cancer, these are wigs.
Me: Wigs for people with cancer.
Algo: We don’t care what you do with them love, we’re just trying to make a sale.
Me: Do you know what, I get it. I’ll never ever type the word ‘wig’ again.
Algo: You just did. Here’s a photo of a wig that might interest you.
Me: FUCKING HELL WILL YOU PLEASE STOP THIS!
(Two minutes later)
Google: Hi, we see you’re interested in ‘Fucking’
DELETES THE INTERNET