Today I had my penultimate (15th) session of Chemo. This means that hopefully my last (touch wood) Chemo session will be in 2 weeks time. Cannot believe it has been 8 months since I began treatment. In some ways it has gone really fast and in others it has seemed like forever. "Everything today is not the same, and yet it is exactly the same and it can never be the same again." (A.M.Homes - 'This Book will Save your Life').
PICC line is still not bleeding, which is a real pain as the vein they stab to take blood from in the other arm is becoming v sore and bruised. Also, after some inept moron staring at my PICC line arm, whilst serving me in MacD's yesterday, I am more than ready to have it (and the explanations) removed - although apparently after my next session they just pull it out - EEEEEEEK! Am 99% positive I will faint/puke/faint and puke.
Have had a really brilliant week this week. Becky came to visit me in Brighton at the weekend and we had a wicked time. Sat night we went to Las Iguanas for yummy food and cocktails. Moving on to the Mash Tun where we were chatted up by a man camper than a field of tents who insisted he was straight and told Becky he could never forget her name as he'd had two girlfriends called Becky...then proceeded to call her Laura. After this beautiful meeting we went to The Arc for 'HoldUp' Indie Night. Brilliant music - lots of dancing and drinking.
Sunday - shopped til literally dropped and credit card had a coronary. Becky spontaneously got her ear pierced - as you do, and we went to the Hanover Street Festival. Watched Federer beat Pirate-Boy in Wimbledon Final and went to the Marina for dinner.
Monday - I went to visit Dawn and Andy in the class capital of the world - Essex. Went shopping (again) and purchased too much stuff (again) in the ever-elegant Lakeside. Watched 'Die Hard 4.0' in the eve which was surprisingly good, although gravity has not been kind to Mr Willis.
Tuesday - visited Upminster Windmill - only one blade and no Johnathan Creek or Nr Majeka in sight - pah! Onto Romford, which was better than the sh*thole we all expected it to be.
It's Gaby's wedding tomorrow. So surreal to think of her being Mrs Baber and not Miss Goodman. Thoroughly looking forward to it though...will be a wonderful day. Really hope I don't vomit at inappropriate moments...
(Sadly Grandad died last weekend. It's hit Dad quite hard. Funeral's on Wednesday. Going to be tough...)
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