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...
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