The last few days I’ve been feeling increasingly chipper… my next chemo is on the 9th and suddenly it felt like there was a chance to fit three weeks of living into a ten day span.
I’d been out and walked the dog for the first time in yonks and blown the Christmas cobwebs away at last and have been saying yes to all sorts of visitors squeezing themselves in to see me before the bad times hit again.
Yesterday I gave the dog a circuit of the graveyard (his usual minimum effort walk) and came home and decided to clean the bathroom. (what better way to start the new year)?
It took much of the day on and off…. and gave me a serious work-out…. wiping down wall tiles, mopping the floor…
…still standing (admittedly heart hammering) at the end of it [before I realised I’d totally forgotten the shower] I felt quite proud of my achievement. Janes been giving her bedroom and bathroom a thorough sorting over the last few days and I’d suddenly realised how bad most of the house has gotten.
But with hindsight… it was probably a mistake… I was asleep by some silly hour last night and not so much asleep as totally comatose. I kept surfacing in the night, thinking I needed water…. knowing it was just on the bedside table and unable to summon the energy to reach for it.
My temperature was up… the night sweats were back and I suspect this mornings headache is down to dehydration.
I think the shower will have to wait for someone else to take pity on it.