I don't want to show off, but I've been busy since we last spoke. You see I managed to knock three milestones off my life list: have a boob job, get a comedy pilot funded and experience chemotherapy. I gotta tell you going in, I didn't expect they'd happen at the same time BUT I guess all at 37 is better than all at 87, for both my television career and my ability to tolerate hard medications.
I'm a little spoilt for adrenaline at the moment to be honest. Experiencing some of the severest highs and lows of your life in three months is likely not on the health advice so should anyone need to use my glands for some type of anti-aging situation, I suggest picking the week they don't pump me full of poison.
The beauty of comedy, however, is that this situation is right up its alley. Having a creative outlet to focus on has been the blessing behind the struggle. Plus now I'm entitled to make cancer jokes so that opens up a whole section for me really. I feel like the whole situation has really set me up for the process of a life in film, "oh you want stories? sit down, sir or ma'am".
The issue I have found is that I am a much better television writer than I am Cancer patient.
I just got the best haircut and now my hair has fallen out. I spent SO LONG growing that hair and it was taken from me in 48 hours. It's still better than my 2010 hair I guess (never forget) but 'speckled bald' is at least in the lower half of my lifetime hairstyle timeline.
Chemo takes a whole arvo. On a FRIDAY
at that. And it makes you feel shit for the weekend. All hangover, no alcohol (but no hangxiety either, I guess). There's nothing worse than having four big ole' tumours removed from your body to the sounds of I WILL SURVIVE all full of New Years hope for a productive year because fuck life is short but now NOPE. We have to inject litres of poisonous liquid into you to stop more of their Cancer buddies setting up camp. Let me tell you, you haven't crammed for an exam until you've crammed for a post-chemo pre-production sweat fest skype meeting. If you're working during chemo: I AM HERE FOR YOU. YOU ARE A UNICORN. Let's stick with it, Cancer pals. It's saving our lives <3
3. I know, these are all short term life changes for me. I know how lucky I am that I found the lump. That they removed the cancers. That I am blessed to live in QUEENSLAND where the health system is unmatched and the staff are beautiful fairy princes or princesses. I know some people are in much worse situations and for a lot longer and I am really very aware of the fact that these treatments are saving my life, so my boys grow up with a mumma.
This all sounds bloody bleak but I PROMISE it is not. I'm actually kinda gross the way I enjoy my life. I love my stupidly cute children and am taking so much more time to enjoy them even when I've heard about Roblox cars for three hours straight and a small human is trying to physically remove a plastic port INSERTED UNDER MY SKIN. "Marni, listen to the story about the ad where the lego car turns into a real car. They had Christmas in hospital, you owe them". Nothing like a fuck tonne of mum guilt to help get your perspective right.
Last month we rounded out production of our digital pilot with an unbelievable team of people I love that champion funny women and pave the way for a future of young girls wanting to work in the film industry. That's so cool to 16-year-old me that it makes me emotional constantly. I am doing really good. But that can look different every day. In the last month I have shot a 14 hour day, I have cried in Big W, I have slept for 20 hours, I have been to events, I have removed lego from my wig, I have tried to explain to a 20 month old why I don't have nipples. I have networked, socialised, mourned, feared, laughed and prayed more than ever.
The main thing Cancery people get told is that we are brave (which I will take thank you coz it's a badass word for a girl to be). But humans are all brave. We all run the gambit of all of these emotions daily, weekly, monthly and you don't know what you are capable of until you don't have a choice. We are in different boats, but the same storm. I am doing the next thing I have to do with the information I have available at the time until I get to the point where the control is more in my hands. I am trusting medicine, and God and timing and stepping forward. In comedy and in health. And I'm happy to chat anytime, just reach out <3
Disclaimer: I can see two of this page rn so apologies if it is not sub-edited well (that applies to mistakes you find in my other blogs too thanx)
*actually a great idea
good to hear you are ok. there will be light at the end of tunnel. Love aunty Robyn.
Glade you doing Ok mari, Keeping on keeping on, Love Aunty Robyn.