One Man’s Poison is Another Man’s Cure: Day + 12

Welcome readers, girls and boys, young and old, near and far, tall and short, thick and thin, fish and chips!

An important day today. The day of my last chemo. (Assuming no relapse) That’s it. One little methotrexate injection and then it’s over. No more fluids pumped into my body that are meticulously designed to kill my blood cells- that is a welcome thought indeed. Of course, I am grateful for the chemo I received as without it, I would be an ex-Milton. But only someone who has been through extensive treatment can fully undestand how horrible chemo can be. ‘Normal’ life seems pretty good at the moment.

I am, of course, still reeling from all the chemotherapy and radiotherapy today. My head is woozy and sometimes it takes me a good half-hour to formulate a thought:


However I am proud to say that in Countdown today, I managed to find a solution in the maths round when neither the contestants nor Carol Vorderman could. Perhaps they should do more morphine on the show. It would at least help deal with Richard Whiteley’s jokes. Apparently my eyebrows and eyelashes are destined to fall out soon, but no evidence of that as yet-will keep you posted. Some good news: It seems that, at long last, the numbness and tingling in my fingers (caused by vincristine) is starting to abate. So my guitar playing may well return intact. Wonderful.

Bridget and her good friend, Sarah visited me today. They were extremely funny and filthy-mouthed. Any americans who think that British girls are in any way prudish or shy haven’t met these two yet.

Spent the evening so exhausted that I couldn’t muster the energy required to turn the TV off. (This is particularly pathetic as I had the remote within reach) So passed the midnight hours watching Late Night Poker and stopping myself from turning over in bed – lest they discover me in the morning, strangulated by 4 plastic tubes with a silly look on my face. Adieu.

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