Ahead on points after the first round

Weighing in at 106 kilos and in good time for an eight o'clock start for my first bout with that over-weight pansy in the blue corner with 'Chemo' emblazoned in pink sequins on his shorts; the other contender for the EOX heavyweight title, I climbed into the ring at St Luke's at 07.45 yesterday morning. After a trouble free journey and an almost unlimited choice of parking I was definitely looking favourite for the fight, but an early low punch rocked me back on my haunches when, after some preliminary sparring and the loss of a little blood, it was discovered that two of the ringside judges, namely 'research' and 'pharmacy' had forgotten to discuss the rules about allowing drugs in this particular contest and as a result mine were not available. The fight was postponed for a couple of hours while me and my cannula took refuge in the tranquility of the Fountain Centre charity dressing room. Unfortunately my confidence was tearfully undermined when browsing the bookshelf I spotted a tome entitled 'Dying Well'. After some counselling by one of the lovely volunteers, a rub down with a wet tissue and some refreshment in the shape of coffee and dunked ginger nuts I was back in the fray with even more determination to conquer. I guess that I had reached a watershed and that after weeks of training and building up my strength, both physically and mentally, to peak fitness the realisation of actual combat suddenly hit me: And that was the only thing I was going to let hit me for the rest of the day!


Back in my corner of the Chilworth Suite day ward, and with the gloves off, the referee, Leanne (Chemo Support Sister), noticed that my cannula was not fitted properly and quickly replaced it with another one further up my forearm before manually administering the first 'Epirubicin' jabs which reigned down for about half an hour. Undaunted I settled into a defensive stance for a two hour tirade of pumped punches of 'Oxaliplatin' which proved so lightweight that I was able to enjoy the total distraction of photo editing on my laptop with an interval when lunch was served. During the whole onslaught I felt none of the blows which the aggressor hinted might be coming my way and by 3 o'clock I was back in the safety of my corner with my lovely second, Natalie the trainee on my research team armed with a bag full of tablets and a schedule for continuing the tussle at home with some powerful anti-emetic and of course the 'X' Factor - 'Capecitabine'; apparently with a bigger ego than Simon Cowell!


So far since leaving St Lukes I have discovered the mild side effects of glancing blows in the form of a very tender left forearm up the vein where the drip was administered, which responded well to over the counter painkillers, and the tingling, needles and pins feeling in fingers (cue for a Searchers song which no doubt dates me) and mouth which rendered my celebratory pint of Bishops Finger on the way home a wee bit of a challenge owing to the susceptibility to cold and the fact that it tasted as if it had been laced with space dust.


Chaka was glad of our arrival home especially as I felt well enough to enable us take him for a long walk in Minley Wood where we discovered a cache of fresh Chanterelles which I prepared, in my favourite fashion (see Menus page) for Geraldine's supper. Unfortunately being somewhat exhausted by the day's events I only had the appetite for an Activia yogurt as basis for my tablet intake, and an early night, which, as you will realise reading the post time on this episode, was short lived. In all honesty I don't feel particularly poorly in the immediate aftermath but I suspect that may change over the next few days: Que sera,sera!


I had intended to put in a brief appearance at my daughter's 36th birthday bash just to let her know her ol' 'champ' was still in there scrapping like a good 'un, but that would have been a bridge too far and being there in spirit was sufficient.