Sunday I wake in a strange bed and I am roused by a small boy, my youngest grandson, waving at me from the door way of the bedroom, which then led into a bout of peek a boo. It was a slow morning as the two year old involved all the family in play before we went out to The Rising Sun pub for Sunday dinner. It was an interesting experience as the dining area was set at one end of the pub and was clearly in this century whilst the other end of the pub, which had to be traversed to get to the toilets, was still in. the last century. There was horse racing on TV, a dart game and a pool table in full swing and loads of blokes with beards and tattoos being blokey and loud clutching pints. There was going to be live music at 3 o’clock but until then people were playing the jukebox, everything last century. The food portions were enormous and one woman who spotted my sparkly fingers nails commented to her partner ” I hav’n’t time for that.”
My partner and I stayed a bit longer to have ice cream before retuning to our youngest daughters and an afternoon drink and laze before it was time to load up the car and drive home. Given it was a Sunday afternoon the journey was reasonable, just slow at times where road works slowed everything down despite the lack of any apparent construction activity. In the evening I watched the final episodes of the current drama series and then some Mock the Week before taking my night meds and heading for bed. Tomorrow is 28 day jab day, not my favourite time.
Monday arrives and take my vitals, all good, and shower before walking down to the GP surgery to get my jab. My regular nurse is there and kindly tries to find a non lumpy part of my gut to pump the thick liquid into. Once in I get a fluffy cloud and a bit of tape and we then book the next one and this time an extra set of bloods. I leave and get a paper before going to the pub for breakfast. I know that I’m good for the rest of the morning to do stuff but I know that as the day goes on I will get post jab symptoms of chills, shakes and fatigue.
I get home and then set about a raft of life admin that means calls and emails, but by the mid afternoon I’ve updated my Green Flag requirements, chased the solid roof for my new shed, booked my M.O.T and found shelf space for the folding camping chairs in the new shed. By the time the Tesco guy arrives early I am knackered and already taken my first paracetamol. I am feeling shivery and junkie like as I draft the blog, not quite sure how the rest of the day will go. The usual response to these jabs is that I get to be a withdrawing junkie for about 48 hours after the jab but sometimes it persists for 72 hours. So now I will settle down as the Tesco delivery has been done and I have drafted the blog to see how my evening goes. Sometimes I fall asleep other times I get very restless. There is nothing I can do other than take paracetamol and sit it out and now I can hold onto the fact that I am metastasis free according to my latest scan. Pace is the key I think, that and wonderful sights, like bees on a sunflower.
