And boy, did I suffer for it. At least, I presume that is the cause of last night's malaise and today's general wimpishness. So, what did I do that was so terrible? Well, first I stayed up till 11p.m.! Yes, that's right. Almost the witching hour: 2300. I had not done that for weeks. But my young cousin (almost thirty, but definitely young by my standards) was here, and we were joined by another friend for dinner. We had a great time. We didn't do anything very raucous: we talked, ate, did the jigsaw puzzle. Really quite sedate. I did the cooking, which involved more standing than usual, but I dont know if that is material. We also, I have to confess, drank rather too much wine, most of it red. But these are not major crimes.
I have to admit I really enjoyed it. I enjoyed behaving as I used to. I enjoyed being Mediterranean. It was a wrench to call a halt. Eventually, I went to bed. It was as I tried to lie flat that I realised something was wrong. You know how, if you've slept in another bed, your back feels as if it needs easing back into position? Well, mine was like that, only it didn't ease. Whatever I did, there were cramping pains across my lower back. Yuk. Also, my long bones were aching, but I put that down to the bone marrow stimulating injections.
So, to cut a long story short, I had a bad night and woke in a mood - largely self-pity, which I deplore. I've been wimpish all day. When some friends from Cambridge days rang to say they were in Nottingham and could they pop in for fifteen minutes before catching the return train, I almost said no. But I'm not given to refusing visitors, so I said yes. Thank God. They arrived half an hour later. I offered them a glass of wine. We drank. White. They've just left. My back is still a little uncomfortable, but there is a smile on my face.
Lessons: I have to be careful and not overdo it too much BUT: there is such a thing as being too careful. I'm off to book the theatre tickets for the day after my last chemo. How much damage can I do? Don't answer that.
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