So for anyone out there who wonders what the heck I’m on about – I have news. The Man-Hog has only gone and got himself cancer. Seriously?? In the life-long series of attention-seeking acts this pesky porcine has pulled, this has to be the cream of the crop. The prize willy-shaped marrow. The unfortunate boob-shaped cherry on the bakewell.
He was diagnosed last Tuesday week with classical Hodgkin’s lymphoma, a literal pain in the neck as it turns out. He starts chemo – ABVD it’s called for anyone who wants to Google it – on Monday.
So…..OK, alright – I guess he’s kind of got my attention.
So how has this news affected the jolly Pigletinapoke household? Are we all deflated, depressed and down in the mouth? Moping about and bemoaning our fate?
Nah. Not on your nelly. We are – as is our norm – ignoring the possibility “that word” even exists, having a good sarcastic poke at his impending baldness (Oh please…oh please…oh please let him decide to don a wig like the blonde dude in Wayne’s World *every finger crossed*) and trying on woolly hats because being bald is OK but he has a Mini Pig who plays football in the winter – chapped, frosty and bald is perhaps not so cool. We are embracing fleece as a fashion choice. And thinking of creative sexual acts we can perform on each other with ear thermometers. Don’t judge. That sort of thing is actually not that unusual.
And never forget this is the Piglet household, after all, it’s not about how you feel – it’s about how you look, dahhhhling!!
The Mini Pigs are handling it remarkably well so far. They are stoical porkers and are really just slightly pissed off that there will be even more stricter cleaning, hand washing and lick-ably hygienic bedroom regimes to adhere to and to try to avoid good old Dad contracting amoebic dysentery from their discarded, mould-growing yoghurt pots on top of what he already has!
The best part, actually, the humbling part….the part that makes me the most proud….is how the Man-Hog himself is dealing with things. Understandably there is a bit of jelly-belly apprehension about what the treatment will be like on Monday and beyond, and what the next few months will bring. Yet mainly, he and the rest of us Pigs are absolutely 100% convinced – perhaps naively so – that he will be fine and that this is just a bump in the road. Keep calm and take the micky. It’s what gets us through.
Frankly, as you regular readers will know, I’m not one to mince my words much. I’ve told him – get your arse in gear, get better…..or I WILL KILL YOU! You will beat this thing. Failure is not an option. Man up and all that! He’s on board with the message. It’s not everyone’s way, but it is ours – crafted over many years together. This isn’t going to be a triumph for chemical advances or medical brilliance – the cure effected in this case will be as a result of positive mental attitude and relentless bursts of dark humour. Well, that, and the odd slap. 🙂