Well I won’t be getting bored because its needle time again. I need to get my blood checked to find out whether I have enough neutrophils to allow FEC2 to go ahead tomorrow. My red blood cells, platelets and liver function also get checked.
It’s fortunate that I don’t have blood or needle phobias because I’d be in a permanent state of terror if I did. That said, I dread having blood taken because my veins go into hiding and when they eventually come out, they’re flimsy, thin and easily punctured. Maroon, deep purple and mauve hues don’t flatter my ghost white skin tone. And besides that, intracellular bleeding and hematoma is bloody painful. Fingers crossed for a big juicy vein this morning and a phlebotomist with flair.
As well as donating more blood samples to the vein-sucking vampires, I have to drink a lot of fluids today in preparation for tomorrow. I’d like to aid my fluid intake by having a Keith Floyd food fiesta, rustling up some mouth-watering Mediterranean munchies while working my way through a bottle of Barbaresco Minuto tu Felice. It’s not going to happen though. Alcohol is off-limits this evening and most evenings for the foreseeable future. I’ve given up almost all my vices over the past 6 months so am in danger of becoming a paragon of virtue. I say almost because I haven’t given up swearing and can’t see that happening anytime soon.
I should also confess that my halo slipped just a little this weekend. The extended Willis clan went for a delicious Indian meal with very dear friends in advance of my upcoming week of unpleasantries. We had a wonderful time and it gave us all a welcome escape from everything else we have to contend with. Mr & Mrs M, you are extraordinarily lovely people who are immensely kind to us, we appreciate your help and support very, very much. And I can’t fail to mention that the opportunity to have Indian food was especially welcomed by hungry student J, who is the only living person composed of 73% chicken tikka, 7% pilau rice and 20% water.