The results are in

I went to see my oncologist this morning and the news is good. Volume-wise, it appears that Vicky has shrunk by just under 62%. I'm not too sure about this figure as measurements from the first MRI scan were two-dimensional, whereas measurements from last week's scan were three-dimensional. So we had to estimate the initial third dimension. 62% may well be a conservative estimate but I'll take it and won't complain. I'm just hoping we got it right, 62% sounds too good to be true, even if the oncologist wasn't that surprised.

Bad news as far as this stupid blood count goes as it's half what it should be. And this has really annoyed me because it'll mean a long day on Monday, should the blood count have recovered by then. I have got my steroids to take on Sunday, Monday and Tuesday to try and minimise any potential allergic reaction to the next drug (Taxotere, also known as Docetaxel). The change of drugs half-way through treatment appears to make it more effective but no one could explain why. Just one of those things. I also have six "granocyte reconstitution" liquid thingybobs and syringes for injection, which is supposed to boost my blood count as Taxotere actually has a worse impact on blood count than the drugs I've been on so far - hurrah.

I got back home and received a phone call from a chemo nurse telling me that the blood test revealed an abnormality - my potassium level is too high - and I needed an urgent blood test. The nurse asked if I could back to hospital but I said I was too tired. So she told me to go to my surgery and get it done there. So I went to my surgery and was told by a rather, um, inflexible receptionist that I could only get a blood test in the morning. At which point I could've just burst into tears. Back home I went, phoned the chemo nurse again and she really insisted that I get that blood test done today. At this point I did burst into tears. So, rather embarrassingly, my Mum took charge of things. A nurse from the surgery came to our house, got the blood and took it back to the surgery, where a courier was waiting to take the blood to hospital. I know the NHS gets a lot of criticism for one reason or another but I simply can't fault them. Not only am I not paying one penny towards the cost of my treatment they have taken charge of everything - I simply turn up where I'm supposed to and that's it. Anyway, I am extremely grateful to my Mum for sorting this one out, and boy is that receptionist going to get a dirty look next time I see her.

So here I am. I am fairly exhausted but fine otherwise. The only minor problem now is bleeding and sore gums but I have a mouthwash which helps a bit.

A Benfica win tonight would make my day, mind, but I don't see it happening.