So we're down to the last round of three chemo treatments, which will start in a little over a week. Meantime, Christine gets a week off (no chemo this Friday!) and I will be taking three weeks of leave to nurse her through those last few dreadful days.
Chemotherapy is hard, let no-one deceive you by saying otherwise. In addition to the reduction in skin growth (tender skin and a painful and less-effective digestive system), there's neuropathy (a reduction in peripheral nerve sensation), hair loss and now, to cap it all, painful fingernails. Yes, her fingernails are not growing properly. Her nail beds are painful, so picking things up, cooking, typing - all these things are now painful. Oh, and did I mention mouth sores? Shame on me.
It's hard to be a carer. Watching the one you love suffering because everything hurts, there's a lot of emotional pain that goes along with that. Coupled with the fact that the medical bills are flowing in at a time when the State of California has enforced two furlough days a month to save money, and everything's under stress.
What could be worse? Well, how about my being suspended from work for three days? Yes, that's what's happened. This was after I had been called into work on my day off for the disciplinary meeting. Truly it was Saint Bastard's Day. So now I have a few days to kick about at home, wondering what happens when the disciplinary action is re-opened, and what happens when (if?) I am able to return to work. Time to worry about paying bills, putting food on the table, time to worry about Christine's future (both health- and job-wise). Time to make a new start? Possibly. Watch this space.
On the upside, the trees are starting to show green, shoots and flowers are appearing all over the oche, and life is rearing its delightful head. Hope? Always.