Round 2, ding ding

Wow, three days in France make a lot of difference! Man and I drove to Vendee with our best Scots and lived in a refurbed farmhouse in between corn fields and a cow field, bliss. Long straight roads led us to long, warm days full of food, laughs and exploration. And boy, did we eat well. Galetts are my new favourite for lunch and breakfast was usually a cheese-fest.

On medical orders, Man isn't allowed to travel, certainly not by air, but a cheeky ferry and a days' drive equated to popping north of our own border so we took our chances. All meds were taken with extra penicillin for precaution on account of Man getting a sore throat with a threatening cold. Fortunately his temperature remained steady and the anti-Bs weren't required (although he took his prescribed three other types!)

Other than the meds, the only other cancery thing we took was Man's anti-gravity chair and goodness, he used it and some! On it, Man achieves the most comfortable positions as weight is evenly distributed throughout his body and pressure is taken off his pelvis. And yes, we even took the trusty chair to the sandy beach at Saint Gilles where he plugged in music to his ears and viewed the Atlantic ocean and her hunky surfing instructors from a 45 degree angle.

On day 1, it was decided that the women and children would venture out to get supplies from a supermarket. A feat in itself and we crossed many miles before we found a half-hearted shop. At one point I felt certain I could see the Eiffel Tower such was the length of our outing. The Scottish girls made their requests for favoured French treats and Man jokingly requested a 'new pelvis'. We said that should we come across a Lidl I'm sure we'd find one in the crazy centre aisle. Pink or blue? Plastic or durable ceramic? As it is, we'll settle for Zometa to do its crazy bone making thing.

Having abandoned our friends at the farmhouse to fend for themselves with sweetcorn stolen from said fields, we set sail, arrived home and bounced straight into Round 2 of chemo - on Man's son's birthday. Birthdays are becoming significant as it was on his mum's birthday that he was given the myeloma diagnosis, so a birthday bonus for everyone.

Back at Beckett's ward this morning, we were greeted with the usual steadfast smiles and professionalism from our oncology nurses. God, they're good. Their patience, experience, humour and warmth make the visits all that more humane. True to form, Man drank copious amounts of 'free' coffee whilst he sat in his recliner whilst the drugs were dripped into his arm. But ever the attention seeker, he also logged on to a voice conference call where his work colleagues acted surprised to hear from him. Hey, it's only chemo and the world still turns round right?!

Symptom-wise, Man lost his sense of taste, has been constipated and the dex is not forgiving when it comes to slumber. But, with a diagnosis as his, he's almost grateful that they're all he's suffered. Mobility has slowed down and I put that down to the Zometa attacking the bones. I say attacking, I mean strengthening, of which the effects must surely be felt.

We see Dr L on Tuesday (the private sector doesn't work on Bank holidays) and hopefully she'll give us the good news that para protein levels in Man's blood have gone down again. Two months ago they were at 58. After the first course of dex they went down to 34. I'm hopeful they've done down further and that Man's PP levels will meet mine at 0.

In the meantime, he's gone out for a cheeky beer with a very cherished pal who misses his riding buddy. Maybe frequenting local establishments will be the new riding!

Messing around on lac du Jaunay