I was feeling a bit under the weather this morning but I forced myself to get on my bike and cycle to my 8.30am appointment with the oncologist at the clinic in Wimbledon. I kind of feel I owe it to myself to keep doing stuff for as long I am physically able to while I’m having chemotherapy for the breast cancer I was diagnosed with in July.
All good news at the appointment. We’re only one session in, so it’s still early days. However, the oncologist is “very pleased” with the way things are going. “It’s as good as it can be at this stage.” Side effects not too bad, energy levels good, blood test results all good. Importantly, the tumour “hasn’t grown” and the affected area is in fact a little smaller, although apparently not much should be read into that. I’m really not sure how I would have reacted if it had grown as I had clearly forgotten or more likely blocked out the fact that that was indeed a possibility. A funny thing, the mind.
So, we’re all set for the 2nd chemo cycle tomorrow… and the dreaded cool cap.
I’m glad I cycled. Yes, the weather was a bit cold and miserable, but as I pedalled the 11 miles there and back, I thought for the xth time in my life that my bike is far and away my favourite possession. And that was even before I spotted an attractive-looking bakery that I’d never noticed when driving and pulled over to buy some over-sized rock cakes to take home and surprise the boys with – who were of course still sleeping when I got back and would be for some hours to come.