Early radiotherapy today - 7.15am. Leaving me a day to actually go out and do something. Except I might just rest.
Dr Vitz was coming in to work as I was waiting for the van to bring me home to the Lodge. He is a lovely man. He asked me how I'm going and he said, I'm going to take a bit more of the colour out of you yet, but you'll have it back soon enough.
And he said keep up the morphine. I told him I'd only taken half the dose and he told me to just take it. "It won't be for long and it is the lowest strength."
David Lankes posted on his cancer blog a year ago this post about how to Use Cancer.
A chance encounter with a busy oncologist who takes the time to give words of encouragement. A hand-shake from a stranger in a hospital corridor in the middle of the night, he took my hand in his both and pressed strength into me. A huge hug from my builder, a man who knows deeply how to use cancer. The wonderful team of staff on the Pink Machine who line me up on the table each day and are never not interested in even the smallest problems and questions. Emails from friends with news and pictures from the real world.
A very special hug from my hairdresser Leeanne, who cut my hair short and urged me to drop by any time, no appointment necessary, and they'd shampoo my hair for me for free. A good thing about it being short is that the tufts now coming out don't look too bad. And it is only around the neck that will go a bit bald. I don't think anyone except me will ever notice.