I hate leaving for the hospital for the first day of chemo. Firstly the dog seems so confused as to why he can come and we don't really feel complete unless the day is ended cuddling him on the sofa. I miss him when we are away.
Then there is the systematic saying of goodbyes to my family that brings home the gravity of the situation. As we leave I worry almost hopefully we have forgotten something but no we pull out waving to the figures in the drive.
Every mile closer dread creeps up my throat like bile. The journey there always seems so much shorter than the return and it will be in no time at all we will be walking through those revolving doors to Addenbrookes. If there is time we might grab a coffee then today our first port of call is the Palliative Care Team for a "chat". What there is to say to me I've no idea... " buck up its not so bad?" I think not.
The day after that lightens up with a blood test to see which systems are broke this time then the oncologist will ask how crap I feel on a scale of one to ten. Eventually some tablets and then a big syringe of red poison will pushed through a line in my already sore hands. And so the week begins......l