Friday, October 19, 2007
Over the horizon the meaning of life dooms once more, and why I can quit chemotherapy.
So this second week, I have been feeling like the San Francisco weather; foggy with sunny patches. However, this week a simple painkiller and prune juice were generally sufficient to help relieve my symptoms, you will be glad to hear. The nausea has gone, which makes so much difference. The fatigue, on the other hand, keeps taking me by surprise.
If it wasn't raining I would go for a walk and have to rest on a bench every so often. I feel like an old woman. If I pretend everything is normal in the morning, I will sleep for hours in the afternoon.
(I sometimes took my camera on my walks.)
The parents- in- law were here and took over. No thinking about cooking, washing, or picking up kids. They played snakes and ladders with Jip a hundred times and ran races with Rosie around the room. Each night Bertus cooked a (cancer fighting) spicy meal, until other diners complained that not everything had to contain pepper. Now I get my own bottle of jalepeno sauce.
The grandparents have left for two nights away with the grandchildren, leaving me and A. kidfree, yet again, in our own house. I am intending on enjoying this last weekend before treatment #2. It will start with a take out from Eric's, our local Chinese, which, in our humble opinion, on its own merits a visit to this city.
Do you think I will get an opportunity to wear my black latex leggings I bought on a naseous whim? Yes, I will wear them to the cinema.
So, next treatment is on Tuesday. I might have to call the doctors to tell them it's not necessary. Because I received your parcel, S3, with the rainbow maker and the magnetic head relaxer, shown here. The rainbow maker spreads rainbows around the front room, when we have a sunny patch in the weather and Rosie tries to catch them, and I wear my head relaxer all the time, as you can see. Thank you.