Well, we’re officially a third of the way into the chemo now [she said firmly, with dogged resolve]. I didn’t count the second actual treatment day, last Friday, because although it’s not the funnest day ever, it’s perfectly doable. No, today I am a third of the way through, because today is Day 7 of the second cycle of six, and I am feeling almost back to Normal. And you know by now how much I wag my tail adoringly at Normal.
Today I have been to Sainsbury’s, done some client work, sorted some stuff out, made some calls. Y’know, normal stuff. I’ve dropped the kids off at nursery and school dressed in clothing that is identifiable as female and clean, with lenses in and makeup on, rather than grubby leggings and greasy specs. Heels, even! (Inappropriate given the weather, but hey.)
I’ve also had the last of the five days of Magic Injections by a team of rather lovely district nurses to keep my white cell count up so I don’t have another minibreak courtesy of the NHS this time. This means I’ve probably got a better immune system than all of you sniffy, snotty lot, although my Day 8 blood test tomorrow will have the evidence.
My mouth isn’t quite as sore as last time, which makes the whole thing more bearable. I think sucking ice chips during the chemo helped. Or maybe it was visualising a gentle but firm shield of white soldiers preventing ‘friendly fire’ from the chemo. Or something. Everything else has been worse this time. The nausea (including actual sickness) was horrid and I’ve now tried four different anti-emetics. The one that works best doesn’t completely stop me feeling sick, and gives me quite alarming palpitations. I spent two days feeling utterly ghastly, weak as a kitten, like flu without the head cold bit. Luckily the Super Grandparents kicked into action, one set whipping the kiddies off for fun and larks in Salisbury for the weekend and the other set bringing them safely home on Monday afternoon.
I took DD out of school on Monday because I just couldn’t cope with the babies being around – however much DH and the grandparents do, and however perfectly they do it, if DD and DS know I am around, they just want me. Her teachers are being brilliantly supportive and it was no problem.
So she came back on Tuesday and went straight into the first of three performances of her first ever school Christmas play, in which she was one of the pair of famous Nativity Piglets in the Jewish town of Bethlehem. When the Reception, Year 1 and Year 2 kiddies filed up on stage yesterday morning for the last performance (me and DH in the front row, natch) and started singing Silent Night, I welled up and seriously thought I might just blub loudly throughout. I’m getting more sentimental these days. She was a brilliant piglet, of course, and I was so proud.
So the school play marked the start, really, of what I sincerely hope will be a calm, healthy, joyful Christmas. I’ve done almost all of the pressie shopping online, just a few more bits to get. Most of the cards are posted. We’ve got loads of social stuff coming up over the next week with family and friends, and I am looking forward to every second of it.
As of today, I am embracing the run up to Christmas with all my heart and soul, clinging onto every whiff of paperwhite daffodil, Crabtree and Evelyn ‘Noel’ candle, and clementine (not difficult – I also have Dog Nose after chemo). Because we are A Third Of The Way, and after my next session on New Year’s Eve (yeah, I know!), we will be Half Way through the Hundred Acre Wood. And that, said Pooh, is quite a long way towards the jar of Honey on the other side.