Bumper edition alert! Read one, get two free!

So make yourself a cup of tea (or Spirulina cocktail for the full empathetic experience) and join me in this crazy world for a while.

WEDNESDAY 22 NOVEMBER

Ah, chemo: the gift that keeps on giving… I was feeling pretty happy (read smug) that I’d made it through the being-run-over-by-a-truck part at the weekend and was getting stronger every day. I even managed a decent amount of walking outside thanks to Bertha’s new slimmed-down profile.

Cue vicious sting in the tail of the chemo scorpion… Last night brought terrible nausea, vomiting and an upset tummy, and resulted in me crawling back under the rock today, this time without being able to stomach food (yay! A free pass to skip the algae powder!)

It was truly horrid, but I perked up this evening, just in time for our telephone appointment with Count Oncologist. He was most surprised and impressed to hear about the deflation of Bertha after only one day of chemo. That makes all of us, mate!

He is happy to go ahead with Chemo Series 1 Episode 2 next week as long as blood results agree. I asked him if there was anything I could do to help my liver function levels, which were high at the last test and resulted in me being given a slightly reduced dose of chemo. ‘Perhaps I should drink lots of water?’ I suggested. ‘Nah,’ the Count replied. ‘Just don’t drink too much alcohol.’ What? I thought he was joking but the Count doesn’t joke. Don’t drink too much alcohol? Should that not be ‘don’t drink any alcohol’?! We had been wondering what Count Onc’s position would be on our regime of diet and supplements, and that told us all we need to know. Not surprising really given that the official leaflet handed to patients entitled ‘Healthy Eating and Cancer’ contains one of those colourful pie charts that children encounter in their infant years, showing how to balance carbs and sweet treats with protein and veg. And then a recommendation not to have more than 9 units of alcohol a week! 9!!! Research is over and over again concluding that sugar, carbohydrates, animal products and certainly alcohol are favourites of cancer cells (who can blame them?) and help them to thrive. Well, they aren’t getting any of that from me: if I drew a pie chart of my diet it would feature fifty shades of green…

THURSDAY 23 NOVEMBER

If the needle on the Cancer-o-meter was mainly pointing down yesterday, today it swung back up to the top. I woke after a great sleep feeling energised and motivated. As a former crazy busy person who used to thrive on to-do lists, quite literally leaping around the house from one task to the next, it suddenly hit me that there is no reason why I can’t adopt a similar approach in my new situation (perhaps minus the leaping). So I made a new-style to do list:

-Shower (don’t underestimate the effort required for this one)

-Do one thing to help Steve- ie empty dishwasher, hang some washing

-Armchair aerobics/weights

-Watch TV series- start Downton Abbey!

-Play the piano

-Write blog

-Work on catalogue of compositions: one piece a day

-Listen to a sermon

Ok so I may have only completed two of the above (showering and emptying the dishwasher) but it was a start, plus I only had the morning at home as Ariane took me to watch Isaac’s school swimming gala in the afternoon.

If you discount the fact that the gala was held in a greenhouse with an equivalent temperature to the Gobi desert at midday, and that the noise level would rival that of a heavy metal gig, it was just wonderful. Wonderful to see happy, healthy children throwing themselves into their races with gusto, and wonderful to see my lovely friends and chat about normal things for a while.

By the evening, however, the needle was plummeting down… and I was soon to realise that Tuesday’s little vomit-fest was but a mere dress rehearsal for a very big show, the opening night of which was tonight. I was doing a spot of online Christmas shopping for the children when the band struck up and the spectacle of nausea and sickness began. Undeterred, I carried on shopping whenever my head wasn’t in the sick bowl and managed to complete the purchases. Because that’s what Mums do.

FRIDAY 24 NOVEMBER

Last night’s opening act was bad enough, but was nothing compared with the main production which lasted all night. I will spare the gruesome details, but there was a definite Shrek theme going on. (Beginning to regret my 50 Shades of Green diet).

By this morning I was on my knees (or would have been if I could have got on to them) and a fever had set in. It was a mild one at 37.8, but above the threshold considered safe when undergoing chemo and dictated a most unwelcome trip to A and E.

I was at least able to test out my new ‘Get Into Jail Free’ card- a chemotherapy special which allows you to skip all of the A and E queues and get instantly assessed and treated. And comfy chairs all the way. There have to be some perks in this horrible business.

As soon as the anti-sickness drugs began to swim their way into my system with almost as much gusto as the children at yesterday’s gala, I began to feel normal again. And my temperature had gone down beautifully. Simples! We will be out of here in time for a nice green soup lunch, I thought.

But then I saw a doctor who related that I do have an infection of some kind: she wasn’t sure what it was or what they would need to do (most enlightening: thinking about it, was she even a doctor? I began to have my doubts when she prodded my portocath with the curiosity of a child and asked, ‘What’s this?’). I’m thus currently reclined in the now all-too-familiar squishy chairs of Majors waiting to see what they propose to do with me. I really hope that it won’t jeapordise next week’s chemo.

What I’m waiting for somewhat more urgently is for Steve to come back from his mission to find me something better to eat than a hospital ham sandwich. I can imagine him walking round Tesco’s saying ‘nope, that has sugar… that has carbs.. that has meat… that isn’t green…’.

Oh stuff it, just bring me some Marmite on toast…

So, I will leave you on a cliffhanger… will I escape the hospital in time to chuck stuff into the car for our much longed-for weekend in Dorset? Or will I be swapping a sea view for the car park view offered by Hotel Lister? Watch this space…

My phone Bible app features a ‘Verse of the Day’ which Steve and I read every morning- it is staggering how each one is so appropriate to whatever our situation is that day, and so very comforting. Today’s was no exception, and I shall quote it in full:

‘The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake. Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.’

Psalm 23.