Friday just gone I started my final cycle of Chemotherapy, this nearly didn't happen as on my blood test on Wednesday my platelet count was borderline at 90 (The limit for continuing is 100). I put my lowered count down to a busy week which saw Stella and I walking a fair bit with me completing the whole circuit of our Knole walk, something I haven't managed for some considerable time, I also went to Gabriel's open evening which went on much longer than I anticipated. Stella and I also partook of some more 'adult' exercise this week which probably helped to deplete me a little (nice all the same). Suffice to say that I received a phone call from the hospital early on Friday morning asking me to come in a couple of hours early to take another blood test before my treatment and that if my count hadn't improved they would have to reschedule. This was a blow as I did not want this part of my treatment to drag on longer than absolutely necessary, not least because it would throw out the time scale for the rest of the treatment, scan, result, surgeon consultation and surgery. Also we have booked to go away in half term with the kids, this change would have threatened that trip. The journey to the hospital was a bit fraught to say the least as Stella and I were both locked into our own thoughts and were not conversing in our usually upbeat fashion.
On arrival I went straight to the blood test station and had blood taken. Once again there was tense hour and half until I was called to Charles Dickens ward, where I receive my infused chemo, I was settled in to my relevant station and told that my platelet count had increased to 104 and as such I would start this cycle. Stella and my relief was palpable despite the fact that I dread the next couple of days as they can be unpleasant I was very happy with this outcome as it put everything back on schedule.
While I was being settled in Stella left to go shopping, pick up Martha from School and return to pick me up. On her way out she spoke to a family that had been in the waiting area at the same time as us. She asked how they had got on and sadly the news wasn't good for the Dad, his brain tumour had returned with a vengeance and there was no further treatment that could be given. His comment was "This cancer is a bastard" but that he was going to "enjoy what was left to him". I felt this put my concerns over delayed treatment into perspective, I felt like an ingrate.
