Two thirds over

That is to say, two thirds of my “treatments”. Thanks to radiotherapy I’m already taking all my nutrients via the PEG tube (even inject more tea through it than what I actually drink); talking hurts a bit and my voice is quite hoarse; on the other hand, I’ve more or less learned to tolerate the mask.

Funny thing is, everybody warned me about the side effects of chemotherapy, with nausea, vomitting, hair loss, weakness and so on, but I see hardly any (touch wood). True, my moustache is slowly giving way, but my weakness is no doubt more like laziness, due to all the lying in bed; and if there’s something makes me sick it’s the fucking noise.

I can’t get enough rest. This time I gave up on going to my digs for the weekend so as not to be bothered by the stamping scum living upstairs. I ended up with a temporary roommate which arsehead switches on the bloody TV in the morning and watches it until he goes to sleep.

 

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