We're on the brink. I go into hospital on Sunday for my 6th cycle of scheduled chemotherapy. The last one.
My life since 2nd May has been dictated by Hercule. When the chemo is done on 1st September, he'll be gone. (I hope so, anyway.) And with him the treatment schedule that has been the foundation of my life. No more three-weekly routine. For the first time in four months, my diary will be mine to fill.
Part of me is terrified. While I'm ready to be done with all of this, the treatment has been a comfort. It has given me structure and the knowledge that Hercule was being dealt with. When I walk out of ward GB on Friday 31st August, that will all be gone.
I have to remind myself that facing an unwritten future is better than facing no future at all.
Roger
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