I am, I guess, in quarantine for ten days or so: thank goodness for e-readers and the Internet.
So far, I think I've been fortunate. I had the docetaxel/cisplatin drips on Thursday - start of the first cycle - and have had no nausea, only hiccups (fixed by a glass of cold milk) and a spot of trapped wind indigestion (fixed with camomile tea).
I was a bit tired for a couple of days, then hit the nastiest part: a couple of nights' bad aching in my hips that nothing would touch except, marginally, lying on the floor. After six days, sleep is still a bit peculiar: I'm getting repetitive dreams (last night's involved trying to catch a bus and find somewhere to charge my mobile phone in a forest) but I can actually sleep, and feel adequate in the day: very weak and tired, but convalescent rather than actively ill.
I even felt up to playing my accordion for half an hour; I normally practise every day, but lately it seemed to have mysteriously doubled its weight. Glancing in the mirror, I was a trifle shaken by the appearance, what with the new No. 3 haircut, of some seedy old guy in a documentary about people who've returned to live in the Chernobyl area. All it needed was a bottle of Stolichnaya and a pack of Belomorkanals on the table.
- James
