Chemo 5

My husband is on holidays and I force him to come with me and sit through the entire chemo session. It's lovely to have loving company.

The nurse sits me down in my chair, and studies my hand. She loves my tan (exaggerated by the tan line from my watch), but not my veins. I swear they are much more pronounced in the evenings. Anyway, she does find the vein pretty quickly, and we're off.

When the taxotere starts going in, I feel feral. I feel fidgety. I feel like I want to turn myself inside out. I feel like I want to "popcorn" - it'a move Guinea Pigs do when they are really really happy. They leap in the air and twist. It looks great. I want to do that. Not because I feel happy, but because I feel feral. But instead I sit in my chair, crossing and uncrossing my legs at best, and lamenting to my husband.

The treatment takes so long that we're still there to receive lunch. I order a serve for myself and my husband. The lunch is delicious, and just as we finish it's time to go.

In the car, my husand smiles at me and comments "When we get home Sabina will be pretty hungry. What's for lunch?" But I know what that means. What's for lunch for him? Sheesh!

When we get home, I wave my hand in the general direction of the fridge and mutter something about ham, cheese and bread. Before long, my husband serves up ham and cheese toasties. Devoured in minutes.

Then I hit the sack with Sabina. She gets up after 20 minutes, but I continue dozing on. I don't know for how long. My mother's arrival with the shopping gets me out of bed.

I feel good, and make dinner. After dinner I feel even better and go for a walk. After the walk I feel better still - all desire to "popcorn" is now gone. But I bet that will all change by the end of the week. But somehow, I can live with it. Because there is only one more treatment to go!