Woo hoo!
A meeting with my radiotherapy doctor on Wednesday dispelled a few nagging doubts I've had.
It quite possibly (rightly?) sounds a bit ridiculous, but my main concern was: Why don't I feel like absolute hell, like everyone said I would?
Why has none of my hair fallen out yet?
How come I haven't lost any weight?
Am I doing something wrong?
Are they doing something wrong?
Am I on a bloody placebo trial??
I wasn't really serious about that last one; my currently puffy face, something I sincerely hope will subside, is evidence of the chemo in effect, but every other nightmare scenario has yet to materialise.
The doctor didn't really have any solid answers but he assured me I was receiving full-strength dosages, etc., and explained how the radiation this time was was more focused and wouldn't necessarily turn me into a Muppet-in-progress. Made me feel a lot better.
Besides, there's something about this particular doctor I like a lot, even if he is younger than me (I find that unnerving).
All in all, this could have been a lot worse.
Suzi, meanwhile, clearly enjoys the car journey:
I just wish she wouldn't play hide-and-seek every time we're ready to go home:
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