The high-dose chemotherapy started yesterday afternoon. It is early days so in some ways, nothing has changed. We are in the same room. Isita is still well. It will get tougher from about this time next week.
We have tried not to convey our worries or concerns to Isita. She knows she is getting new medicine, but not much more at this stage. I expect she has picked up the change in rhythm though. Marta and I are looking after her more. We are back to the nights of the beeping machines. She gets the new chemo drug for two hours every six hours followed by multiple blood tests. It is hard work for the nurses.
All these external factors may be making a difference, or perhaps the chemo is making her feel less good. She is a bit tired and sometimes fretful. Maybe I am as well. We had an argument today over iPad apps. That doesn’t happen very often.
None of us are looking forwards much to the next few weeks, with the possible exception of Jamie who is just about to go to Mallorca, the lucky devil. We’ll miss him, although he’ll have a superb time with his friend Harry.
The great thing is that we are all trying our best. Before I left Isita with Marta in the hospital just now she gave me the biggest hug and nuzzled the top of her head – now covered in in a fuzz of new hair – under my chin like a dog. We are doing alright.