Post 80: A Quiet Start to Tricycle Two
BP: perfect 
Hair: greased up
Pain: none
Appetite: great
Anything else: Titus returns
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Awakening on the first morning after the second infusion of Carboplatin was a dream.
I knew I had extra pills to take and was alert to the three-day steroid and anti-sickness regime, so I had a rare early breakfast — made by my own fair hands.
(This is only noteworthy because My Darling was still sound asleep in her own dreamworld.)
Her ability to stay strong and positive for both of us is remarkable, but it takes a toll and quietly saps her strength. I don’t know how deep her well runs, but so far it seems limitless.
Letting her rest is healthy for me too, because I often worry she’s taking on too much of my drama and not leaving enough room to care for herself.
So she slept on while I microwaved my honey-laden Weetabix and took my breakfast steroids. Yummy.
I fed Mr Vicious, who was stunned to see me in place of Mum, but the same hungry cries and ankle rubs applied the necessary pressure to earn him breakfast too.
I checked the TV, hit “continue” on a long-running K-Drama I’ve been enjoying, and turned down the volume so as not to disturb My Darling’s dreams.
And then — well, I stayed on the big blue sofa all day, apart from meal and toilet breaks.
That was my goal: to rest up and ease myself into this second cycle without self-sabotage.
Mission accomplished.
I was a lazy bum from dawn to dusk, and now I have squarer eyes to show for it.
My Darling had arranged a return to her usual Friday catch-up with Sally, but would only go if I promised to behave and stay put, resting.
She was up, showered, and issuing firm instructions before heading out:
“Go back to bed and stay out of trouble, please. I’ve made your favourite sandwich filling so you can have a nice lunch when you’re ready.”
She headed into town to the usual café and had a good catch-up with her friend.
Time passed slowly for me. I was up earlier than usual and only had myself for company — Mr V had apparently made other plans for the day.
Nothing much happened, except for the return of Titus the Tortoise () and a call from the GP regarding some blood tests and prescription tweaks.
Pain relief adjustments had been arranged via a call I made yesterday to the local hospice nurse — to better manage the occasional acute back pain.
Note to self: get more Laxido in my system ASAP.
Titus’ constipation is an unwelcome chemo side effect I’d very much like to usher out the back door.
Thankfully, the WiFi and call issues of recent days had cleared up, so there were no dramas other than those I selected on the massive TV.
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I was just as delighted to see My Darling return as she was to see I’d actually rested and behaved myself.
She was pleased I had photo proof of my coronation chickpea rolls for lunch — and that I was right where she left me: sunk into the same sagging sofa seat.
We spent the rest of the evening together, quietly.
The release of nine weeks’ worth of built-up tension — waiting for this second tricycle — will take time to process.
But the need for self-advocacy now feels lesser, and much more manageable.
I hope, for both our sakes, that this becomes the new norm — that life can take precedence over treatment and tests until the WB-MRI after the third tricycle.
Five weeks of peace, hopefully.
My heart hasn’t grumbled about the chemo yet, which is great news — and long may that continue.
That’s a low-grade worry I carry, but the new beta-blocker is settling in nicely.
I have to endure the AFib; it’s not going anywhere — but the anticoagulant injections should keep me clear of the Day Eight lung clots I had two months ago.
That’s the plan.
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So: a boring and happy blog where nothing much happened.
A good day.
A great start.
I’m confident I’m going to manage this cycle better than the first — and enjoy the rest I clearly need.
I hope you have a restful and happy day too.
I’m back on the bus.
No thoughts of hopping off.
