2007 — 3 September: kiddies back to school — peace in our time
It's just gone 10 o'clock. All meds loaded, including the penultimate Chemo of this cycle, and a spot of world-class pottering beckons, though we have to grab a card for the newly-named great niece and arrange to export some currency in her direction.
Alas. I see from today's Guardian that the Driving Theory Test gets longer and harder with effect from today. It now includes questions on how long illegal drugs remain in your bloodstream, for goodness sake. How would I know? Deep unJoy.
It's happened again!
Next time I look round, it's heading for 8 pm and I'm left wondering how that can be.1 Final Chemo safely onboard, and just a (relative) trickle of other meds for tonight. If I had to venture an opinion, I'd say this cycle has been far better than the rather dreadful cycle #2; it's certainly felt that way. Plus there was no vomiting (and no days of missed Chemo in consequence). Pain is still an issue, as is sitting, but the control is somewhat improved. Only one set of "common" side-effects (mouth sores) reared its head and we already had the jollop needed to fix these. Sleeping is much improved. So, next moves are the CT scan and the 12 doses of radio-therapy. We're very much inclined to say "Bring it on!"
I need to prepare a repeat prescription list for the GP's visit tomorrow. And the sister from the District Nurse team rang today just to let us know we haven't been forgotten. In more normal times, I'd probably be downstairs watching the repeat of the Ian Curteis play from 1977 Philby, Burgess and Maclean if only to compare it with Alan Bennett's sublime An Englishman abroad. I won't say I have better things to do, but I'm only on page 302 of that Driving Theory book (all those blessed road signs2).