Monday, its a 28 day jab Monday, so I am up early, showering and getting ready to walk down to the GP surgery. I am the only person in the waiting room, gone are the days when we all sat in crowded room and coughed all over each other. I am immediately called in by my usual nurse and I ritualistically hand over my boxed injection. Once I have popped onto the couch and loosened the appropriate clothing the nurse is sticking the needle into my midriff. It initially stings and then burns a bit as the stuff is pumped into me. There is a lot of fluid to go in so this not something that can be done quickly. When done I wrap myself up again and the nurse and I check our diaries. This time it is not possible to book the next jab, so we wish each other merry Christmas and I go to the co-op to buy a paper.
When I get home I settle down to do the crosswords and nibble a bun. As the day goes on my jab gets progressively sore and I resort to taking paracetamol. My partners friend arrives mid afternoon and they disappear to chat and drink tea. I remain prone on the recliner and eventually fall asleep. By the time I wake up its time to eat. I watch the first half of a football match and when joined by my partner and friend I watch a Christmas Rm Com. It was one of those virginal moral stories of true love over coming obstacles and ending up in idyllic Christmas marriages signified by a single, long await, kiss. With the fun over, fun because you have spent the entire film spotting the continuity gaffs and the savings the production team made by referring to characters who never actually appear. Like the sous chef who is talked about as arriving but never actually appears. I won’t mention the in car scene in which the driver did not wear a seat belt.
I take my meds, set the dishwasher going and retire to bed feeling sore with a back ache.
Tuesday arrives and I wake to find my partner and friend readying themselves to go off to a Christmas market. I turn back into sleep until I feel up to getting up and making breakfast. I then seem to acquire a lot of things to do. So I settle down to ordering the outstanding Christmas presents required and wrapping those that I already have. Continuing my busy time I receive my new suit. Its box is battered and wet, fortunately the actual clothes are in plastic bags. I unpack my new suit and a hanger for it in my new emptied out wardrobe. I try on the jacket and find it is a right fit. So I know I now have a decent suit that I can wear should the need arise. With so much done I turn to drafting the blog, where I find that I had not written anything about yesterday, an indication of how crap I felt. I am waiting for a letter from the hospital with my appointment for chemo to start so when the postman delivers a single Christmas card I am somewhat disappointed. I continue to drat the blog until Amazon deliver yet another present that needs to be wrapped and stashed away until the recipient visits soon. So the mid afternoon arrives and I make lunch as the first European football match starts. It is one of those weeks, football week. Already I am running out of energy. It will be meds and bed for me hoping I can get through it without paracetamol.
