…well to be fair I never really got in. I arrived at the Hospice at the set time, bags and all, and was shown to a very nice single room. On my way down the corridor I past the room of rest, with a sign on the door saying who to think and pray about that had passed away that week. I really didn’t want to be added to the list and however much I tried to remind myself that this was a good place to be, that would get my pain properly managed, I wanted to go home. My pain has felt more manageable ever since the trip out with Kate to Laura Ashley.
I had only just got time to put on my slippers and work out how to manage the reclining chair before the nurse and doctor appeared to assess my pain and make a plan for my stay. How do you explain to the doctor you had only seen a few days ago, that a shopping trip had worked like magic? However he was very understanding and took into account the increase in Amitriptyline that he had recommended on Friday. After a few tears, which seem to appear every time I think about my loss of role at work, he decided to up the dose even further. So I am now taking 50mg of Amitriptyline which is the dose given for depression. We agreed that this could knock the pain and low levels of depression both on the head at the same time, and best of all that there was no reason to stay as an inpatient. I can’t tell you how delighted I was to be driven back home again. Mum and Dad were house sitting as we were expecting a delivery of laminate flooring for our new room, so when I returned, I felt this time as if I was in an episode of the Apprentice where the group wait to see who has returned from the board room.
I spent the rest of my day resting in celebration of my quick escape and contemplating my next episode of treatment that begins with the chemo on Saturday.
I had exciting email from my lovely nephew in LA with a picture of a signed poster especially for me. It is of the great country singer Tim Mcgraw and although he hasn’t quite spelt my name correctly it will still be exciting to receive it when Seb comes over for the party.
One of my favourite songs of his is ‘Live like you are dying’. It brings back memories of Colin and I singing it at the top of our voices as we travelled through Europe in our motorhome, ignorant of what was to come.