Tuesday evening

Tomorrow will be a week since the initial diagnosis. Yesterday was the first chemo. It went on for a really long time: I left D at 2pm, then took the dogs for a long walk, and when I arrived back I expected to find him finished but in fact he hadn't started. Frustration. He seemed quite happy enough, reading his paper.

When I eventually got back to the car, two pairs of ears were very alert, four eyes said, why have you left us so long....

Tuesday starts relatively calmly: D says he feels 'heavy, not in control'... unable to drive so I need to take him to his diabetic nurse appointment. This means I have to change my vet appointment so that once again, whole afternoon seems to 'go' in dog walks and appointments.

D still relatively cheerful, although he said yesterday that the diagnosis was sinking in and he was very nervous about the chemo. He is functioning, though, still very much in control of the food.

I suppose that I should resign myself to the fact that from now on life will be dominated by various appointments. However, I just seem not to be able to bear the appointments, the long waits, the clinical atmosphere ...

Today's crisis is that his blood sugar is up at dangerous levels - terrible but I threw a fit when he said that he would come up and see the nurse tomorrow morning at 9.30, said I was the breadwinner how could I leave my work... We worked out a compromise and I pleaded for strong sleeping pills...

Now half way through alcoholic oblivion...

Saturday evening

Yesterday, we went to the hospital (or rather, the haematology outpatients) to report for duty, and were given the final diagnosis and treatment plan, which is basically a) he can take all chemotherapy drugs, including the one that is toxic to the heart and b) he does not have Philadelphia syndrome, which basically means he doesn't have the type of leukaemia with poor prognosis.

After feeling high the other day, I now feel pretty low. Derek is coping remarkably well, seems fairly cheerful despite being without much energy, and hiccupping constantly which must be very unpleasant ( I think it's the steroids).

Now that there seems a strong, if eventual, hope of remission, I am beginning to grieve over the disruption to our plans, namely, having to cancel our holiday to South Africa. I realise that I am being dragged out of my comfort zone, which, I see, depends on the possibility of getting away from time to time, especially to exotic locations. Added to the disappointment factor is guilt and feeling selfish.

Additionally I find that he is irritating me - perhaps it is his cheerfulness, and the fact that he doesn't seem frustrated about the abandonment of our plans. So after a hectic morning, I collapse onto the sofa sewing and reading; I also make plans to go to the cinema, which makes me feel slightly better.

I feel appallingly selfish that I should even think about him considering my feelings. But this is what this blog is about - my chance to have a good old moan.

The day after - evening

I think I am on a high. I went to dog school, I had thought I would tell Pete (the trainer) about the situation, but didn't. I guess that I felt that I just wanted to be me, and Golden Boy, who excels in everything except his eponemous skill, retrieval, and enjoy a bit of us-ness. So I ran around with GB, GB with a big dog laugh on his face, me supplying the sound track, hehehehehehe...

Came back and did an hour's work.

The day after - lunch time

Awoke feeling like I said above. Good thing - Derek seems a bit brighter. Our friend Nick came; I managed to a bit of work and I'm enjoying what I'm writing on. Then Tracey came (she's the vicar) and a treasure. Really good to talk to her, she reminded me of the strength of the church family. I levelled with her about my fears - lack of family and friends rather dispersed. Looking forward to an afternoon with the dogs.

The news

Just heard yesterday that Derek has acute lymphoblastic leukaemia. It had apparently been building up for months - apparent to me in the fact that around New Year, he had ongoing infections (diarrhoea) and extreme listlessness. Then when I got back from Bradford, he had a severe headache and breathlessness.

So I realised that leukaemia was a possibility, and when we were told I felt quite calm. The shock set in when I was on a moonlit field with the dogs. Came back and spoke to Cathy, who was wonderful. Jan told me to be strong, but I was not last night - wanted to screem, curl up on the rug, and most worrying, I took a knife and tried to self harm.

Woke up in the middle of the night feeling panicky, took another sleeping pill and eventually went back to sleep. Woke in the morning feeling a) terrified and b) like I wanted to lie in bed all day. Derek says he worries about my inability to cope with any form of stress.