Well hubby starts another regime tomorrow and boy am I not looking forward to it. We thought it would be over again by now, the doc said four months back in June and now it has turned into next February. The journey to the hospital is one that we hate with a passion, you wake up and feel so lost, like a child that does not want to go back to school after the holidays, but no matter how much you try and stall time you know that you will have to go. You know that the journey on the motorways will be horrendous, you drive with your heart in your mouth hoping you actually get there in one piece. When you do get there, you have to drive around looking for somewhere to park, eventually you go in and then the waiting starts, first you have to wait to see the doc, then your bloods have to be done, then you have to wait on their results, then they order the chemo which can take three hours during which time you wander around the hospital like a lost sheep - there is only so much coffee you can drink, then there is the messing around on the ward and then, yipee, you get the chemo.
The one he starts tomorrow only takes five minutes to administer but we know that we will be out of the house from morning til night, what joy. Then you sit at home, waiting for the side effects to start, then the waiting on going back in two weeks time with the fear that this one is not working either. The sleepless nights full of worry and no matter how hard you try, sleep only comes when your mind and soul is exhausted by it all. You wake with the same worries on your mind but then you have to try and function for another day, which is so hard, when all you want to do is hide away and hope that some magic fairy will wave a wand to make it disappear.
Well, what choice do we have? None because no matter how many times we have to do this we will because somewhere deep inside you have to believe that you will one day be free of this illness and all it brings with it.
So another Christmas looming with cancer in its midst.
Ray xxx
