anticlimax

I'm back in the office, chemoless.

I arrived and after 4 attempts to hit a vein by a nurse that ended up more nervous that I was, I finally managed to give some blood for testing. This is a normal procedure before any chemo is given. The blood has to be rushed 'upstairs' for checking - mostly looking for a white blood cell count.

I'm no doctor, but it's my understanding that chemo affects your ability to make white blood cells ... and whilst this does return in due course, it can be slow. I was told that my white blood cell count was too low to be taking the treatment today. If I had another dose of chemo, I would have had no real way to fight back. So it's been delayed for a week.

Apparently, if I return next week and it's the same, they will give me some bone marrow injections. I have no idea what that entails, but those three words 'bone','marrow' and 'injection' sound 'very','fucking' and 'scary'. Fingers crossed for some bountiful white cell generation in the next 7 days.

Speaking of making the white stuff, I do have an appointment at The Wank Bank on Tuesday at the UCH in Euston. I'm very excited about this for lots of reasons - all of them sick and twisted. More news on that soon.

So, I'm back in the office - with some very stern warnings from my key nurses about looking after myself. A low white cell blood counts means my ability to fight against infections is now about as effective as the French Navy. I have been warned, twice, very sternly, that if my temperature rises about 38 degrees again, then I must go to A&E, so they can fill me up with antibiotics. I also have to stay away from people with colds, coughs and such like. Which is about 85% of the population at the moment. That's OK, I like staying away from people. It's good to have a reason at last.

Well, there it is then. All in all, it's quite nice to have another week of feeling 'OK', although, of course, there's always that feeling that it would be nicer to get the things out the way.

I'm never happy.