8.20pm, Mother's Day: I FEEL SICK! BLEURGH! I have now felt nauseous for approx. 50 hours. I have been horrendously sick today. This could be due to the fried breakfast I ate at 10am this morning in Kensington's - the only restaurant to serve salad on the same plate as fried eggs...wrong, very wrong.
Friday night was the worst vomit night. They have put me on new anti-nausea tablets, which are supposed to be much more effective. Not with me, sadly. I used to feel v sick all of Friday (after Chemo) but then feel perfectly normal and never need to worship the porcelain god. Now I feel sick up until Wednesday after Chemo and need to rush off to vomit at v inappropriate times and places...down the side of a wheelie-bin, in an alley off St James's St is the classiest place I have needed to 'decorate' so far.
Actually undergoing Chemotherapy is a very bizarre process in itself. The Haemotology Day Unit I attend for treatment is split into different areas. There are 2 consulting/treatment rooms and 2 larger open plan areas...one for Chemo, one for blood transfusions. In both areas you sit in chairs arranged in an open circle. People chit-chat to each other occasionally, but mainly I find it tends to be mostly populated by old men...snoring.
I suppose the most peculiar aspect of Chemo is that some of the other patients are in competition with each other about how much weight they've lost/gained; how quickly their hair fell out; how sick they've been; how bitter the taste in your mouth can become. They moan on and on, and on...trying to outdo each other. Oh, and woe betide you if you don't get one of the side effects. For instance, my tastebuds have (so far) been unaffected. I stupidly admitted this to one of the other patients. I then received a 10 minute rant about how lucky I am, how terrible it is for them...but it was almost as if he felt he had something over me. It's bizarre...a bit like comparing new cars...
My hair is really thinning now. It doesn't come out in clumps, but there are far more strands appearing on my pillow and there was quite a lot caught in the plug hole after my shower yesterday. I have therefore ordered 3 wigs from the 'wig woman' at the hosp. I was passed a catalogue to 'peruse and choose' from. All the wig's were given women's names for the styles, and beverage titles for the colours. I chose Laura, Erica and Marina. Colour - Espresso. This means I could end up with an Erica Espresso on my head. Now all I need to worry about is a seagull swooping down and whisking it off my skull.
Off to see Dolly Parton at Wembley with Mum tomorrow. Now Dolly's someone who knows how to wear a wig!
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