So, hear I am, five days into my first chemotherapy cycle, and feeling a bit of a fraud. The truth is, I have been incredibly lucky and, so far, have only had the most minimal of side effects. I have had no sickness, or nausea, nor do I feel unwell. It is true that my face feels sun-burned, and that I am so exhausted that I seem only to be out of bed between 1300 and 2000 (if that, I am actually typing this sitting up in bed), but so far there have been no major problems. I realise, of course, that this is the week that could bring them. I have just started the prophylactic antibiotics, as ordered, and I am taking my temperature regularly. I am also being ruthless about refusing admittance to anybody who thinks they might be harbouring infection, and I have masks and gel at the door. So if you come and see me, please be prepared for that. But all of this can be handled.
The actual chemo day was something of an experience. The fact that it was totally new territory was what made it daunting. A lovely friend and colleague took me up and stayed with me. What surprised me was how smoothly it all went. I can't have waited more than twenty minutes before I was called in. I was settled, the drip was up, and the nurse had explained it all in the following fifteen minutes. I think the worst moment was getting the cold cap on for the first time. They freeze it to -28C and it is a real shock. The shock subsides quite quickly, however, certainly within ten minutes, and then you sort of get used to it. And subsequent replacements (they need replacing every 45 minutes) are far less bad, because your head is already so cold. Now I wait to see whether it has done any good. The session lasted a couple of hours, then we came home. As simple as that. Amazing really, and again, the most wonderful care.
So, dear friends, the message from me is 'so far so good'. I shall try to write a little more frequently, but, as I say, I am very tired. Please keep those prayers coming.
Good night everybody.
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