So far, this cycle has been harder than all the others. I have had the return of symptoms not seen since cycle one (take a bow nausea and diarrhoea). The fatigue has been building to almost unmanageable levels. And the psychological shenanigans that have been going on in my head do not bear contemplating. Much of this has been down to an emotional turbulent time that has been unavoidable, some of which I mentioned here.
The Captain has been away plying our trade at a canal festival and I have missed both him and it very much. This particular weekend has been a highlight of our year for a long time. It marks the beginning of the end of the season and the last time we see many of other trading friends until the following one. I know there is always next year but I have missed this one a lot.
But in the midst of all this gloom, there is always good news. First of all, my belovéd macbook has resurrected itself! Five days in a large bag of rice seem to have done the trick and it is now working. Relieved does not begin to cover it.
Most excitingly of all, however, is that I have begun to grow hair again. This makes me feel quite smug. Like I have really achieved something. Why it should start now, while I am still actively receiving treatment is beyond me. Occasionally the demons hit me and tell me it is because the chemo is not working. However, there is no evidence that this is the case so in my more rational moments I chose not to believe it. Especially as I really rather like it. I am like a soft, fluffy brillo pad. The growth is uneven. As in some follicles have given birth to strands that are edging towards an inch in length. But these are isolated, not patchy. So the effect is weird. But it does feel nice. The wind can not exactly whistle through it yet but I have taken up with shampoo again. A little prematurely probably, but I do not care.