Chemo, test results, a dog in disguise

Okay, so chemo four passed without much incident. And quickly. I was home by 1.30 in the afternoon – asleep by 3.00 and throwing up violently and noisily by 6.00. Only the second time in four sessions that I’ve had to throw up (though as I type I feel queasier than might a fat kid being force fed a vegetable on a roller coaster)

Have in front of me the results of CAT and PET scans and they’re excellent. It says so in the summary – the vast majority of the cancer gone (even the large mass in my chest), no signs of anything new and just two spots left to kill – both between my right lung and rib. This represents ‘an excellent response to therapy” – hurrah!

Of course I now have a minor chest infection (I refer again to The L Word and Dana) so I’m taking antibiotics for the next ten days.

Still I’m in better shape than the dog. Health wise she’s fine but Jude chose my being incapacitated as a sign from the doggy Gods that she should set about Velcro with a pair of electric clippers. The result? Well she’s more sheep then dog now, has a face that looks as uneven as Roger Ebert’s and the occasional ‘Adam Ant’ stripe where the clippers got away from Jude a little. Had Velcro come back from the groomer looking like this we’d have sued… as it is Jude is claiming that she looks ‘adorable’ in a way that only a mother or the culpable can.

Hoping that my ‘ad man’ glasses are back today. Went in to collect them last week only to find that the left lens was so far off I couldn’t see through it. The glasses are an attempt to ‘rock the chemo look’ in a way that makes me appear more hipster and less tragic old goat. They may of course have the opposite effect – giving me the Gary Glitter in that Vietnamese court look – a look for which he could have been tried and convicted separately.

And on that unpleasant note I shall attempt to eat a yoghurt. Amazing how a couple of bags of poison in your system can turn your life into an edition of Fear Factor.