It was only getting worse.
I don’t mean the chemo. In fact, I never discerned any side effects, although it was stopped when my blood samples revealed to the staff that my kindneys were becoming affected too much.
I don’t even mean the radiotherapy, although in the end I needed to use the PEG tube even for ‘drinking’, could only speak with difficulty (and pain), and salivated so much I was afraid I might choke in sleep.
What troubled me most was that in addition to these, I could hardly get any rest. What with people watching TV, my roommates snoring, nurses constantly coming for this or that reason and so on and so on, I only slept in a a-few-hours instalments. Which was of course taking its toll on my mental energy.
In the end, while still switching on my tablet each afternoon or evening, I then just made some bookmarks for reading later, and killed time by playing Microsoft fucking Solitaire. I had no zest for anything more demanding than that.
(Even when I unexpectedly received a New Year’s email from Tommy, it naturally made my day, but I was only able to mail back ten days after being discharged.)
I was also nostalgically recollecting foods I used to like and noting down those I wanted to taste again once I could.
But it was over at last and after some time things began getting better. But I already wrote about that.