Phase two

Today's now the second day of phase two of my treatment — apologies for not writing anything yesterday, I was far too tired. We went into the hospital very early in the morning, mum and I, and it was confirmed that we'd be forging ahead with the consolidation stage of the therapy regardless of my platelet counts. I was scheduled for intrathecal methotrexate, intravenous cyclophosphamide and oral mercaptopurine, all in the one day; there seem to be quite a lot of different chemotherapies involved in this stage. Because of the intrathecal, unfortunately, I'd be spending the night in the hospital.

As it turned out, my platelets were actually at 78 — they'd jumped back, just as the doctor predicted. The first treatment of the day was the intrathecal, and it went just as smoothly as the ones I've had previously; I have a little bit of back pain, but I managed to dodge the headache entirely. Next up was the cyclophosphamide, which is a mustard gas. You know, like they used in world war one. My stuff is a bit more sophisticated, but the essential chemistry is the same; the dose came packaged in a suitably sinister-looking mustard-coloured drip bag. Mercaptopurine wrapped up the day, two rather unassuming pale yellow tablets; they're still proper chemotherapy, though, the nurse who delivered them carried them in a pill cup in gloved hands. I was advised to try to minimise contact between the pills and anything that wasn't my stomach.

After my early morning and all of the treatment, I was pretty tired in the evening. Mum and dad were over for a while and left at about ten; I fell asleep an hour or so later. It was hideously warm in my room, that night, so I didn't sleep very well, and woke up feeling pretty tired. I suppose there might have been some aspect of a hangover from all of Wednesday's chemotherapy involved, too, but I've felt pretty listless today. I was told quite early that I'd be allowed home, which is always nice to hear; I looked forwards to playing with my Leica in the daylight. Before I was free to leave, however, I was due some more chemotherapy; as it turned out, I ended up getting this intravenous cytarabine at about four o'clock in the afternoon. Just as it was getting dark. Two further hours of IV fluids followed, during which time I just had my dinner in the hospital; I was given my daily mercaptopurine, had my medicines bag double-checked, and I was free to go.

Mum drove me down the road, and we went for a little walk in the park along with dad and Madeleine. I had some toasted cheese for my supper, rather a lot of toasted cheese in fact, which I ate sitting in front of the fire. Being home is brilliant, even if it is just for a short while.