What I done on my Wednesday: got up far too early; drove, or rather was driven by Judy, to the Churchill - different route, similarly horrendous traffic, if I ever get really ill I think we shall have to take lodgings in Headington, maybe the man with the shark on his roof will take us in; waited around for a while being tired and uncomfortable, but 'tired' and 'uncomfortable' are SOP these days, so whatever; got cannulated; got injected with "mild radiation" - cool, but I'd better not go biting any spiders, the results could be fearsome; was shown to a singularly uncomfortable bed? couch? trolley - whatever it was, still better than sitting - so that I could lie down; duly lay down; an hour later, was woken up to have blood drawn. Lather, rinse, repeat x 4 at hourly intervals, then home.
Tedious. Not too painful. Not exactly skipdedoodle dancing-and-singing fun either, but there is v little about Stoopid Cancer that is dancing-and-singing fun, I find.
I don't begrudge them the blood they need for their tests - kidney function tests, these are and, all in all, I would prefer that my kidneys did continue to function - but I'm a bit miffed by the blood they drew off and threw away. There was enough there for a perfectly decent black pudding!
Tired - even more tired, I mean - and crampy afterward, so it was off to bed for me. Judy had a nap, too, but then had to bounce back up and be Intelligent - she's giving a lecture in Luton today, and had to put the finishing touches to her thesis. I used to get a bit grumpy about being the thick one out of all my friendses, but these days I think of it as the line of least resistance. Extracurricular education and all the work it involves? Neine danke!
So, Judy has buzzed, well, driven off to Luton, and is staying overnight - where, I hope she will have a lovely time with her friends and colleagues, and be able to forget the evil Mr Crab for a few hours. I'm a bit wibbly at the prospect of being on my own for the best part of two days, especially as the evil Mr Crab is currently twisting his claws in my tummy and laughing his evil laugh ("BWAHAHAHAHAHA!!"), but I shall deal with this in my usual inimitable fashion ...
Yup, you guessed. Drop a shitload of drugs, and go to sleep for the duration. It's how we roll, kids.
The rest of the state of me: the twinges from chemo are dying down, pretty much, and my mouth doesn't taste quite as horridly cardboardy. Little My and her yin/yang tummy may, I hope, have had some relief yesterday ... And my pixie cut turns out to have been a bit of a wasted effort, as the hair's already rubbed away over my right temple. Pity, but ... it is what it is. Now I wait until I'm well, and then wait for it to grow back. It will be fine. Because I say so, is why.
In non-cancer news - it is fecking cold, and I need new boots. These two statements may or may not be connected.
