As on Tuesday, we were half expecting to be sent home again - almost convinced that the level of toxins would in his system would mean that Steve's blood count would be below the threshold for treatment, given the way he feels. And as before, we were surprised to be given the green light - but not surprised by how long it all took - three and a half hours for the blood tests results to come back, and another hour after that to find a doctor to sign off Steve's treatment and to deliver the chemo which was all over and done with in less than a minute. Still, it gave me time to finish some work while Steve dozed off, having read the paper.
It looks like I'll be off to Woodstock on my own tomorrow for the exhibition opening. But Steve won't be alone in the house - Katie and George are visiting for the weekend, catching up with Katie's old school friends. She is doing the rounds of 21st birthday parties while we seem to be getting a flow of invites to 60th birthday celebrations - the bus pass generation is engulfing us (not that any of our friends look or act like pensioners - not to us, anyway!)
Being old is not about trying to be young.
Nor is it about moaning about being ill and miserable and old.
It's an entirely new, and very entertaining and rewarding experience.
Virginia Ironside
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