Tomorrow I finish Chemotherapy

Tomorrow is a red letter day. Chemotherapy started on August 15th. Tomorrow, all being well, is the last dose. I am being picked up by the same lovely person who took me to my first appointment - it seemed fitting, somehow. The appointment is at 0900. All being well, I shall be home by 1200, at the latest. There will be champagne on ice for the evening, and I am cooking what I hope will be a fantastic meal. There will be five of us and, unless I'm much mistaken, there will be enough leftovers to feed an army, but I wanted variety. In case anybody is interested, we are starting with timpana (a Maltese traditional dish), followed by braised beef with veg, and finishing with ice cream (for those who want it) and cantuccini with ratafia. I plan a lie-in on Friday morning!

So, the big day has arrived. How am I feeling? Well, it's very odd. I thought I would be euphoric, but actually I'm dreading it rather. I hate the thought of the wretched ice cap, but really can't give up now, and although it's the last day there are still the 10 to 14 days after it to get through. It must be said, I am turning into a wimp. I always knew I was one of the world's great cowards, but maintaining a decent fortitude has got harder as the cycles went on. This, I suspect, is inevitable, since your body takes longer to recover.

On the up side, however, within a couple of weeks I should be raring to go. I have theatre plans, and lunch plans, and dinner plans, and opera plans etc. etc. I am going to make up for lost time. I may even take a couple of days of proper annual leave to celebrate, before returning to my two work bases. I have also, rather foolishly, agreed to help my Parish Priest to analyse some survey data results. They are a nightmare!! Guess what I'm doing all weekend.

So, if anybody is out there and reading this, please say a little prayer that all will be well tomorrow, and then raise a glass to celebrate the end of this part of the journey.