Round two. Ding!

Every time I speak of these 'rounds' that I'm doing, I feel like I hear a boxing bell dinging the beginning of a fight. I don't really like the metaphor as I'm trying to see a new round of chemo as another chance to invite in a friend, to do me a service. It's hard, but I'm trying.

Round two is, so far, o'kay. No caffeine withdrawal, which has given me an added bounce in my step. I'm aware of the "it'll hit on day three or four," so am enjoying these days of o'kay energy and just low level nausea.

Chemo day makes me tired, kind of like I've had three glasses of wine and am walking through a bit of a fog. I still managed a ski before zonking out on the couch. Adelaide was happy to do her daily French reading on my lap while I slept, assuring me that I could just sign off on it when I woke up as she knew it "really well."

And that lovely woolly rug in the picture? That's my blanket, stitched together with yarn and wool and love from different Canadian provinces and different Australian states. Many women and two men, my husband and nephew, contributed. And it was all knitted together by the Queen Knitting Bee Helen, who had people dropping off little knitted squares at her vet surgery and posting them to her house, for weeks. My Mum carried over a hundred squares from Australia to add in and the result is utter warmth and beauty. And it came with me on my last chemo, keeping me wrapped in warmth and love for the couple of hours of the infusion.

And now I'm off to bed as I'm weary. Whether due to chemo or the fact that last night was a late night, I'm not sure. Mum and I celebrated Shea's trip away by binge watching Netflix shows, last night it was The Crown.

Or maybe it was because I went for my longest ski yet with this handsome Mountain Man who arrived home at midnight last night. Today was our first ski together, sans children, in ages. My Mum was at home cooking us dinner and minding our children, despite the fact that it her 40th wedding anniversary and Dad is all the way back home in Oz. 

What a woman to look after us so well. 

And what a man to ski with. I count myself pretty dang lucky!