It happened. I got Covid. I was incredibly lucky and experienced what can best be described as a bad cold. Honestly, I can’t describe the relief I feel about having faced it and been okay. I know this doesn’t mean I have unlimited immunity but it certainly has boosted my invisible forcefield of protection. The access to antiviral medication meant that the length of my positive testing status was significantly shortened so that my cancer treatment was uninterrupted.

I’d like to thank the academy. But more importantly I’d like to thank the four vaccinations I received, the mask wearers (no, not you people with it under your nose…I mean…just take the bloody thing off why don’t you?!!), my GP for monitoring and guiding my vaccination status, and my family and friends for putting up with my Covid anxiety and for taking my immuno-compromised status seriously.

Now….back to kicking Alan in the dick.

I’ve recently changed chemotherapy drugs. For your amusement or boredom (depending on your interest level) I have prepared a list of some of my new fandangled side effects:

  • Peripheral neuropathy: tingling/pins and needles/numbness in my fingers and toes, especially in response to touching anything cold. I actually throw a bag of frozen peas across the supermarket aisle the other day in response. I keep forgetting. It keeps happening.
  • Spasms in my salivary glands whenever I put any food in my mouth. Imagine sucking on a lemon and the drawing down feeling you get in the side of your mouth. Now multiply that by ten. It’s like my jaw is being extracted through my face. I keep forgetting. It keeps happening.
  • My voice has risen an octave but will gradually drop again over the next few days rendering me something close to a pre-pubescent boy mid sentence.
  • Oro-pharyngeal candidiasis: this one is a doozy and otherwise known as mouth thrush. It isn’t a new side-effect and I may have even mentioned it before but I thought I’d list it again because honestly, IT IS THE WORST. It makes everything taste disgusting and it covers my tongue in a delightful white film. Mmmm…lovely.

On the upside:

  • I am not in the foetal position in the bottom of the shower waiting for my next vomit like those chemo scenes in the movies.
  • My hair isn’t falling out anymore.
  • I’m slightly less fatigued on the new drug.

Now, off to the hospital to get Gwen, my chemo pump, disconnected. This is always a highlight of my fortnight. It’s a little Friday afternoon ritual of freedom.

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