I was all set for chemo number 15. My favourite chair was free and I settled into it. The port angel arrived at my side and I knew she’d get the blood flowing. “Wave your magic wand please,” I joked and she slid the needle into the opening. In a
This is the day I usually make my New Year’s resolutions. I have at least three definites and then another bunch of ‘will tries.’ Are they the same ones every year? Well, that would be telling. If you really wanted to check, my 2019 diary is still lurking around and
I’d wanted Archie to come to bed with me last night. But he didn’t. He wasn’t in any of his usual places. I planned to take him by surprise, pounce on him and forcibly deposit him behind my knees. A pipe dream. He was busy doing whatever he needed to
Dehydrated! I’d been patting myself on the back for drinking loads of water during the week and was even getting a little smug about my new found healthy lifestyle. So when the angelic young nurse gives me the verdict I’m mortified. “Two litres of water every single day,” she stresses.
1st of December 2019 and Archie is rolling in the foliage I’ve cut for my Advent’s wreath. I create one every year…just not on the right day. This year I made a determined effort to be on target. I’ve always loved December. There are so many important dates in the
Seven chemo sessions in and I’ve become one of the oldies in the room. My regular neighbour is just a few weeks ahead of me and her journey will end before Christmas. I must admit to a little twinge of envy, which doesn’t last long. I don’t begrudge her her