Today is the first day, since Sunday 3rd June, where I have been able to let the time pass without watching a clock.
I've been alternating between sitting on the settee, watching daytime television or fiddling around with twitter, other people's blogs and facebook, and upstairs, dozing or reading.
Yesterday I had my third dose of cyclophosphamide and the other associated drugs that go with it.
It's not a "hard" day - catch an early train to London to be at the Royal Brompton Hospital for before 9am. Blood tests, and wait for two or three hours for the results to come through and be checked by a doctor, then on a series of drips which take an hour in total, then wait for another hour to make sure that you are alright. Then you are free to go. So it is just a day of sitting around, really. It's uncomfortable, having the thingy stuck in your arm all morning, but it doesn't exactly "hurt". A weird dislocated lethargy starts happening around 3pm onwards, so I arrange for a friend meet to me at the hospital when everything is done, and we travel back together.
But the next day I find that I am completely wiped out; I feel as though I am emerging from a nasty dose of flu or something. I had agreed to go round and sit with my mother; after all - how fit do you need to be to just sit in a chair? But I felt queasy and out of sorts this morning so rang and said better not.
So, for the first time in four weeks, I spent a day where I had no need to keep an eye on the time.
That has been a real, real, blessing.
No place to go.
Nothing that needs to be done.
Tomorrow, I'll have to keep an eye on the time. Church at 9 am, if I get going in time, round to my parents at 3 pm, make sure I get www.themusicjungle.co.uk up, sort out the planning for a samba concert first thing on Monday morning, arrange various appointments...
But today - it's still today.