Well, on the plus side, the nastiness of last time seems to be somewhat under control. It’s Wednesday, I haven’t yet had to resort to peach slices and white sliced bread and, more importantly, I’m still able to drink copious amounts of tea.
Obviously, things are going far too swimmingly, so let’s throw in a curve ball shall we…?
I’ve only got to go and have another blinking op. Turns out that the port I had fitted to administer the chemo slap bang right in the middle of my chest is also (rather annoyingly) slap bang in the middle of the area that they’ll be radiotherapacising (not 100% sure that’s a word…). So once my chemo finishes on the 4th (yay!), I’ll have to go in and have the bloody thing shifted out of the way (boo!) before I can go in for a body scan so they can start the radio. I’m going to look like a patchwork quilt this time next year.
What a hoo ha. I’m trying my hardest to find the silver lining, but it all seems like a bit of a pain in the bum to be honest. Especially as last time they didn’t even give me any morphine. How’s a girl supposed to float about on the ceiling without a few warming opiates?? Can’t be avoided though, so no point crying over spilt (breast) milk…
As for the radiotherapy, that sounds like a proper lark. The ever-present run down of potential side effects (“theoretical” I’m told) now includes tiredness, sensitive skin (years of handling sunburn – I’m well primed) and fractured ribs (eh???).
I rather think this afternoon deserves some tea and cake.
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