So, for those following the chemo-hill I am half way in terms of doses received.  That's good.  Bit of a geeky post, so ignore at will.

People often ask what it's like, when the dips come, how long they last and so on.  Truth is, that whilst there are general trends, each person is different so their reaction is theirs and theirs alone.  So, as I offer my answers, don't expect they'll match anyone else's.

What I have found to be the case so far is that immediately after being drugged I am fine, perfectly capable of walking home and, if it is around a meal time, eating something normal, which is a last pleasure before the first effects begin.  I have found so far that after 3-5 hours my energy levels start to ebb away and any high energy TV becomes too demanding to watch.  This floppy phase lasts about five days after which my energy levels return almost as quickly as they ebbed.  I have described it as being a bit like a 'dimmer switch' that some invisible person turns down and then up again.  A bit weird really.

Even the floppy phase is not totally floppy.  I find I feel much better if I can get out and do something 'normal' for a few hours; this is why I am so glad I am able to preach on Sundays immediately after treatment: it is something to look forward to and the doing thereof serves to energise me, if only for a couple of hours.  There is a balance to strike - I sit down for most of the hymns and rather than a big sermon I opt for bite-sized reflections.  After church I go home and lie on the settee for the rest of the day but do so knowing that it has been good to be out with God's people worshipping and sharing.

The medical dip follows the energy dip a bit later, being around days 10-14.  This means that although I feel great by then and suspect I could almost rule the world if I so wished, I have to be extra vigilant.  I am aware I tend to scowl at people who cough or sneeze without covering their noses/mouths and cross the road to avoid sniffing toddlers!  As the weather has turned wetter and milder, and my neutrophil count gets ever lower, I will need to be even more careful.

To the Levitical restrictions have to added to the personalised variations, which can make life rather interesting (or dull depending how you look at it).  I find five days of "soup and smoothies" wears very thin (even if I make broth) and it is good to get back to real food afterwards.  Having said that, it's a great excuse to eat tinned rice pudding and tinned custard in the first few days.  I recently bought a new jar of marmite as one of the few things to put on bread that is (a) permitted and (b) tolerated by my compromised system; I've never bought a 500g jar before!  Personalised, experience based, bans on tuna, cheese, mayonnaise mean sandwiches are limited to ham or marmite...  I could define a whole new 'kosher' regime involving making porrige whilst facing the correct direction or a 'hallal' one by praying over the marmite jar.

Some side effects are less pleasant than others, but thanks to the wonder of excellent drugs I am very fortunate to be able live a near normal life.  I have had no sickness or nausea, and thanks to magic drugs the acid reflux that plagued my first dose has been overcome.  The second dose left me with a sore arm, well vein, which has now almost recovered, which is great as not everyone who has vein pain is so fortunate.  It seems the third dose may well be having a similar effect on my other arm, rats!  Being almost hairless (the stubble in its telegen phase is proving quite tenacious) is something I've pretty well got used to - though my reflexes sometimes still think there is 24" of hair to flick out of my clothes.

One of my concerns about starting the chemo was that the hospital would be full of very-brave very-sick people and that I would feel very-inadequate.  So far, most people are just people getting on with what they have to get on with.  The very-brave very-sick ones are, I guess, in the wards, wired to machines, where I don't see them.  I notice a few very frightened people, and a few rather angry people, but mostly they are just people - and mostly they are quite lot older than me.

So.  Half way.  Capable of boring for Britain.  Mostly positive.  Enjoying life a lot.  Loving church.  Grateful for all the support, love and prayers.  Confident of God's accompaniment in it all.  And stepping onwards and upwards on this zig-zag hill called Mount Chemo.