Poisonous Chemotherapy Nastiness
I was due to visit hospital this morning for a blood test and consultation with the oncologist. All being well the plan was for chemotherapy tomorrow (Thursday). I didn’t expect to use my ski-wear this year, but it did come in very handy this morning when I went out to check on the roads. Sarah left her mini on the road last night because the lane leading to our back drive gets icy very quickly, usually making it impossible to reach the road. Both of our cars are front wheel drive and pretty useless in the snow, especially my heavy “pipe and slippers” Jag estate which is shod in completely inappropriate low profile rubber.
After locating a large white blob of snow which could have been hiding Sarah’s car, I mused at the thought of a world where everybody drives the same vehicle. Stand aside Carozzeria Pininferina, make way for Delia-styled motors, looking like a clumsily iced Christmas cake. I picked the smallest blob, clearing the number plate first, to limit the number of neighbourhood vehicles I had to uncover before finding Sarah’s car. The road was virgin snow and free of ice, so I trudged back home to find out if there was anyone to see me at the hospital.
My meeting with the consultant turned into a quick phone call while watching the kids attempting to build an igloo and hurtling down the hill on their plakki sledge. With the low temperatures forecast for our area: -7 to -10, I expressed my concern that I would not be able to get into hospital for chemo tomorrow, and that I probably could today and was advised to go for it. So I scaled the hill back to the house thinking that we really could do with a chair lift and little halfway-hut selling glühwein to complete that alpine feel.
I called the chemo team and while they checked with the test lab and pharmacy, I packed a bundle of overnight clothes, shovel, sarnie and a flask of tea - just in case. I am so keen to get this chemo thing out of the way, and I really didn’t fancy missing a week on account of tomorrows ice and Friday’s further snow if the weather bods are on the money. I therefore decided I had an essential journey and headed out onto the roads of Westwood snowpark. It was quite exciting in Sarah's go-cart, but I managed to avoid any dents by going at snail-pace per hour having watched another resident nearly take out his garden wall in a most impressive piece of under-streering as he negotiated the 90 degree turn into his drive. Once on the main road it was a breeze - the roads were quiet and clear.
So here I am infusing away 1 day early and planning on staying in the house for the next week while the cool weather takes hold. By the end of next week I will have cleared chemotherapy cycle 8 - 75% of the way there. Milestone!
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No internet in hospital today and hooking my mactop to the mobile completely defeated me today (chemo must be killing the grey cells too), so I've just retro-posted all the stuff I wrote in hospital today from the comfort of my bed at home. There are two more 'new' posts in December - Saying No and Hugh Fearnley Whittingstall’s Constipation Cookies...
