I have no idea which silly person decided that the way I’m feeling now, can be described as “fatigue”. You don’t feel fat, you feel FLAT. So FLATIGUE is a much more appropriate word.

And it’s hitting me earlier. For the first three rounds of Taxotere, I had three high-energy (everything’s relative, right?) days and then three flat days. This time, flatigue hit on day three and the first two days weren’t exactly brimming with energy. But  four rounds in means I am at least half-way on my journey with yew. And they keep showing up – I think I may have to plant one or two, to remember this year, lest chemo brain sets in so badly I forget.

That was a joke. A crap one at that.

This is Lurven. If he were a human, he’d be a bit thick, with a beer gut and he would defo be your favourite uncle. IRL he loves stealing voles from the other cats cos they’re yummy (although he is a fierce hunter himself), he’s fiercely protective of his siblings and he just lurves his hoomins. He gets really worried when I’m ill, so yesterday I spent the first four hours of the day in bed with him on my shoulder, purring away as if to keep me safe.

Four hours is how long it took for me to actually scrape up enough energy to think about getting up, actually getting my body out of bed, putting on sweats, and going into the kitchen.

After eating some ‘food’ (with the fungal infection in my mouth, nothing tastes of anything so it’s more a case of finding something I can swallow) I went back to bed and he threw himself onto the duvet, found my shoulder and snuggled back in.

Nice, hard, steady purring. Nice massage. Too f(l)atigued to fall asleep, but at least I could focus on his purring and after another three hours I nodded off.

Today neuropathy set in as well. If you think three is a lucky number – sorry mate.

Or. Depends. I see Karjala is waiting for me to crawl under the bed covers again. Gussi is also skulking around the bedroom. Three cats, one for each symptom. See y’all when flatigue turns into fatigue…