Atomic bomb duly delivered. 1 down 5 to go.

After yesterday's targeted missiles were dispatched, today it was the turn of the blunt, dirty (but effective) atomic bomb approach. Civilian casualties should be expected. Gut and hair infantry expected to suffer heavy losses.....

Final drug today of cycle 1. I can't claim any credit for the analogy of targeted missiles and atomic bombs - it's all Stephen, but a great way of explaining it.

I woke feeling pretty positive and had the best night's sleep I have had in the last 4 weeks. I managed to sleep until 5.30am which is a marked improvement on the recent 3am wakings (consistently within about 3 minutes either way of 3am, very weird). One of my thoughts this morning was that it was exactly 4 weeks ago today that I found the lump. Talk about a life-changing turn of events. I don't do things by halves!

I'm pleased to report that there have been minimal, if any side effects from the 2 drugs yesterday, although once again my optimism may prove slightly premature. Time will tell, but so far so good. Probably psycho-sematic but I'm sure the tumour was hurting a little last night. Good. Bastard thing. Long may it continue. I hope you have a painful and horrible time of it.

Back over to the Chiltern's post drop-off, armed with today's tools of cashmere White Company bed socks (thanks Claire), foxy slippers, Jimmy Choos and Rummikub. I got some slightly odd looks in the car park when I changed out of my tesco flat driving shoes (there my secret is out) into the Jimmy Choos to walk the 50m across the car park and the 30m to the hospital ward. Some standards have to remain, even in the face of adversity.

Safely inside the usual drill started, with a weigh-in first to check the doses of various drugs. Not quite sure how but I have managed to put on half a kilo from yesterday. Actually, that's a complete lie as I did eat my own body weight in biscuits and drink endless tea from The Lovely Nick (TLN). Must rein it in a little!

Then we had the pre-chemo drill. Those of you who work in the medical profession will appreciate that they always brief you for the worst case scenario, because then it can only get better. However, to the uninitiated, this can come as a bit of a shock. So we launched straight into a brief chat about how the drug I was about to be given can cause anaphylaxis in the first 5 minutes and to let them know if anything felt "different". Different was subsequently clarified to be difficulty breathing, itch, rash, pins and needles, light-headed, dizzy, lump in the throat, chest tightness, chest pain, racing heart. Mmmmm after that talk I had at least 3 of those things before I had even got near the drug.

After some anti-sickness tablets (manufactured by a company that one of the my friends Cathy works for - have told her that this one is on her if they don't work), plus an IV anti-sickness for good measure we were off with the big one. To take my mind off it, Catherine (need to find her a nick-name) my nurse showed me how to inject myself with the drug I need to take tomorrow lunchtime to start to repair the damage all of these drugs will do to my immune system. I got it after the 3rd attempt. I then had some itching on my chest, so we stopped the infusion to check everything out. Turns out that I was a bit itchy from the tape holding some of the infusion paraphernalia in place. False alarm. 5 minutes off and then we started again. All was well.

Today's play list was another Ibiza theme (we had a fab holiday there in the summer with Claire and Richard and their 2 girls). Claire and I had a fab night out at Ushuaia where we literally danced for 6 hours to some great DJs (Robin Schultz, Hugel, Kungs and David Guetta) at one of the closing parties. It holds some great memories so Stephen managed to find me a play list with most of these tracks on it. I remember one particular song from Robin Schultz called "It's gonna be OK". I liked it at the time and it seemed very fitting that it came on as the drug was running in.

I wanted to know how soon my hair would start falling out. Apparently in about 10 days time. Queue rapid phone call to the wig place as the conversation about comb-overs just got a bit too much for me! I do draw the line somewhere, so have booked in for Thursday next week. We've decided that at least that means that I can safely flame the Christmas pudding without any fear of burnt hair! That's that sorted then.

I also had a present from the parents at school in Briony's class. It's odd the things that get to me, I can listen to them saying that the cancer has spread and be very objective about it, but put some kind words in a card and a warm-hearted gesture and I'm a weeping idiot! Thanks parents, it's much appreciated, as are all the offers of help. We will be calling on you........

Infusion safely completed, it was then time for the Carol concert at Briony's school. Luckily I managed to make it through without any ill effects. I would never have lived that one down and nor would Briony, so for that small mercy I'm grateful.

I feel OK, just shattered. My taste buds have departed rather suddenly (between having an early supper in Pizza Express post Carol concert and a cup of tea at 7pm this evening that I absolutely couldn't taste). I wasn't expecting it to happen so suddenly, but perhaps it will help with my biscuit intake. Probably my imagination but there already seems to be a lot of hair around too. The nausea drugs have so far done the trick, but my sense of smell is heightened, which is generally the first sign of things perhaps being on the turn. Finger's crossed.

So that's it. Round 1 complete. Round 2 on the 28th December. Then we take a rain check and evaluate whether the drugs are working. Consultant appointment on 12th for test results.

It's been a long couple of days. I'm off to bed. Night all. Sweet dreams x