|Me on Thursday at the Castle Park Stories Exhibition launch|
Image: Leon Cruickshank
Last week was what can only be described as a weird week.
On Monday I was scrabbling around trying to get people to nominate this blog for the MADS 2013.
I was also being measured up for my final week of radiotherapy. This involved having a square drawn in pen on my left boob.
On Tuesday I had my final dose of ordinary radiotherapy.
On Wednesday I had my first booster dose of radiotherapy and then we went to Lytham St Anne's to get some ozone through out gills.
On Thursday having had radiotherapy at the Royal Preston Hospital I went to the Royal Lancaster Infirmary to have my planned dose of herceptin.
My arm felt a bit funny and hot. It turned out that my PICC line had punctured again. The nurses were all for fixing it, but I was happier having it taken out and finishing my course with canulas inserted just prior to treatment, so that's what we did.
This was an unexpected turn because no PICC line means no line care which means no weekly hospital visits. I suddenly got hours of time back as I now only have to go once every three weeks for treatment.
Thursday evening saw dinner out with my parents and then off to the opening of the Castle Park Stories exhibition, where I'd been asked to give a short speech about the project.
On Friday I saw one of my oncologists for my regular appointment - which up to now has been every three to five weeks. She was so happy with my progress that she set my next appointment for three months from now!
The weirdest thing of all though, was my husband remarking that it was lovely to finally have me back to my normal self and not tired, vague and a bit ditsy. I've come a long way in the seven months since my cancer journey began and I'm really glad to be coming safely out the other end.