Yesterday was a weirdly comical day with blah moments. We made a new friend Aaron, the inappropriate trauma nurse who was helping out on the chemo ward for the day. He looked more lost than us. He grabbed my chart to go through what was needed, giving me an odd look. The head nurse told him that was the next door ladies chart. Phew he said, you don’t look like a Betty. The start of many chuckles which got us through the day. I had decided to wear my new jump suit. As you do. Gotta feel stylish for chemo right. Except not so when you are attached to a chemo drip and need to wee a lot because of all the fluids flushing the poison throughout your system. What was I thinking. Aaron met my brilliant insightful oncologist and as she left the ward, wheeled his chair behind her, and said, is that your doctor? Smokin’! I think I might have cancer. Barbra our head nurse had the hands of an angel and managed to get my cannula in my fucked up veins from my previous chemo so no surgical port needed, yay me. She kept mocking the patronising tone of the dvd she shared with us showing me how to inject myself today to boost my white blood cells. You know how I feel about pratronising tones. Oh and Betty’s partner broke her reclining chemo chair. So all in all we fit in quite well. I was sent home three hours later armed with all sorts of anti nausea meds and cortisol steroids to get me through the next three weeks till next chemo. It seems my nails will almost certainly fall off. Some patients seemed to have success with black nail polish, something to do with keeping the light away from the chemicals. So, I’m having my nails done today. Bit like that haircut. Oh and B and I just fucked up the self injecting thing so perhaps we should have mocked the dvd’s patronising tone a tad less and listened more. Ok it was me, B’s beautifully thorough and I’m too impatient. I’ll take his lead from now on. I will. Onwards and upwards.