There's a lyric in that great Queen song that goes "I work till I ache my bones". Well, I might not be working but my bones really ache. Last time I had the Neulasta and it was on top of the chemo; this is a different drug and there's no chemo to mask the side effects. It's worst first thing in the morning for each of the three days following the jabs and principally in my pelvis, although the sternum did join in for a while particularly when there was a change in circulation such as standing up from a prone position. There's a phrase about feeling your heart crashing against your ribs and that's exactly what it felt like. I'm also very tired and spend much of Friday, Saturday and Sunday asleep. Sadly this means I miss going to get the Christmas tree with the children - we moved it forward to this weekend as next will be wiped out with chemo, thinking I'd be OK, but we reckoned without this exhaustion. But my in-laws are around and so they get to join in the Christmas fun, which otherwise they wouldn't have shared. There are pluses and minuses to this.
My son is adding to everyone's exhaustion by being a bed yo-yo. He's out of nappies at night but has worked out that he can a) open his bedroom door and b) get attention by claiming he wants a wee. Friday night my FIL finds him downstairs at 3 am calling for me and DH - we hadn't heard a thing despite the fact that DS had had to open the stair gate to get downstairs! MIL bore the brunt of that one, getting him back to bed again. And again. And again. Let's hope this wears off quickly.
There was a fun bit for me this weekend - a James Bond themed party at the house of a couple who are friends of ours. Black tie is the order of the day, and DH and I go out looking pretty good, even if I do say so myself. The dress doesn't quite hide the portacath scar and I develop a paranoia halfway through the evening that everyone thinks I've had some sort of boob job. However no-one comments and the evening goes well. The only downside was having to explain the cancer to a couple of people who didn't know, including the hostess who was visibly upset. Her husband, the host, had a throat cancer a few years ago, so she knows the score. We leave much later than intended, with promises to our hosts that we will see them for lunch very soon.