Hi ho, hi ho, it's back to hospital we go... If I did the check in games on Facebook, I'd be queen of this place.
Bloods first, and she can't do them through the portacath because the stuff they use to keep the port clear and unclotted interferes with the count! Not what I was told but never mind, as my elbow proves just fine.
Rather annoyingly, I have put on another little bit of weight since last week. I think I shall give up looking and/or come to weigh ins only after having a poo and whilst wearing the lightest of clothes. Of course we could always play the before and after poo weight game, but as most of the other people waiting to be weighed and measured are quite a lot older than me, and therefore not as childish, probably better not to hold them up too long.
The chemical consultant and the Macmillan nurse come to see me. Bloods are good to go; she is changing the dose downwards to try and help with the side effects, particularly the bloods, but reassures me that this won't affect the efficacy of the treatment. The volume calculation they use is apparently fairly crude so this is just a refinement. The anti-sick drugs will be changed and I'm to have a blood cell booster jab tomorrow, which the district nurse will come and administer.
Finally I'm plugged in. The staff nurse giggles as she takes off the blue gauze boob - it turns out the surgeon from Tuesday is notorious for the size of the dressings he puts on. But she's very gentle and unveils a really rather neat looking job into which the first drips simply click.
Once things are up and running, DH disappears off for a bit of R&R. His parents are staying for a few days and I'm happy to be left with the DVD player, watching "The Killing". He's back in time for the ceremonial unclipping. This portacath thing is marvellous, I haven't felt a thing today.