Temperature is still 31C outside at 9:20pm! I haven't done a thing this afternoon or evening, just too hot. Likely to be as bad tomorrow and Thursday, when we have a concert at Saffron Hall in the evening. Fortunately I should be on a dex high by then.
Tomorrow should be both Dara and Velcade, then Velcade alone for the following two weeks. So that means tomorrow will include the one-hour wait for the pills to take effect. THat should give me time to finish Richard Osman's "The Last Devil to Die" - I've barely managed a page for the last two times. Nevertheless, detective fiction - not a genre I generally have much time for- seems well-suited to reading in the waiting rom. If that means anything, I don't know what it is.
The physio business has come to an end. There was some doubt as to whether the GP was supposed to contact me or the other way round. We chanced to meet the haematology doctor in question in the corridor outside the chemo unit last week, Sue got his attention and asked him. Turns out we were supposed to contact the GP (and also that he hadn't written the letter he said he was going to write. So, as the surgery is not far off the route back home from the hospital we called in and explained. And got offered an appointment the following morning!
Somehow typical of the NHS to produce an unpresented burst of super-efficiency just when I'd rather the whole thing had got buried in the usual pile of administrative incompetence. But we turned up, met the very pleasant physio, and he agreed that he knew nothing at all about issues of fatigue, muscle weakness, bone and joint problems in blood and bone cancer patients. He salved his conscience by printing off a page of very obvious hip exercises, agreed he was being used as a "Physio of Last Resort" ("it happens a lot", he said) and we parted on good terms but with nothing useful achieved. And that, I hope, is the end of that little story.
Enough for now, I must try to get some sleep on this very hot night...
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