No more chemotherapy ever!
Well.
No more chemotherapy unless/until I get bad news from a scan, which might never happen, although it was a shock when the doctor told me that my central line would stay in place as a precautionary measure, for at least two years. In any case, I can’t do anything about it except for eating well, so I shall waste as little energy on it as humanly possible.
I still felt the moment required celebrating. I have a terrible habit of not celebrating these things. My white blood cell count wasn’t too bad but I felt the need to be a little cautious, so I met my friends at the village kiosk in the open air.
Man, it was fun!
I felt like school was out for summer. My family are lovely, but they’re almost the only people I’ve seen since January and we do tend to have similar conversations. It was great to talk about accents, how my writing was going, New Zealand, trolls (both online and stone people), superstitions regarding the herb rosemary, orthopaedic cushions, mobility scooters, my remarkable ability to kill off herbs in pots, birdsong, getting electricity connected to commercial premises, my prospects for physio and intermittent fasting.
Yes, definitely fun. I made it. I can finally start having fun again.
