Ernest Hemingway once wrote: "The hardest lesson I've learned as an adult is the relentless need to keep going, no matter how I feel inside."
I feel like a costume of a man. I've had a fever, a cold virus and the runs. I'm reassured, however, that this is normal and the Doctors say I am where they want me to be. Everybody reacts differently to chemotherapy these days, so there's bound to be a period of adjustment. Incidentally, I don't appear to have lost any hair yet but I have gained a dodgy moustache.
On the 14th of January I continued to have more platelets and antibiotics while they prepared my own special formula of chemo medicine. It's a combination of Idarubicin (which looks like Iron Brew) and a drug called ATRA, as my non-scientific mind understands it. This is on top of the steroids and various other tablets that I blindly take every day. I trust the Haemotology team implicitly and every single one of them has been amazing. At one point I was having 10 chemo tablets in individual pots and it was like a really shit version of doing shots. It had little or no impact on my ability to dance, once I'd cleared the tray. Maybe they'll let me do some Jaeger bombs tonight, as it's Friday.
I was feeling positive and defiant at this stage. You can sit there and think that "life isn't fair." Life is what it is and the best way to look at things, for me, is controlling how I respond to the tough times.
Like a lot of people, I've faced adversity in my life. I've lost people and had difficult break ups. My Dad had a massive heart attack, just before Christmas a couple of years ago. I did CPR and we managed to get him to this very hospital, where he was in intensive care for 5 days. It was incredibly hard when he slipped away. We were very close. But we had the chance to say goodbye and it brought us closer together as a family. I know he's backing me to kick Cyril's arse right now!
I had a visit from a consultant later that day and she explained they were awaiting the bone marrow results that would dictate my treatment, going forward. I'd started getting settled into my room and got a bit grumpy when I had to move - until I realised the room I was moving to was basically the same. I have plenty of space, my own bathroom and some exercise kit. I'm allowed visitors, as long as we are sensible, and I'm hugely grateful for all those things. So many people out there battling cancer have it a lot worse than me.
On the 15th of January I started to read up on my treatment and feel more positive about my recovery prospects. I was settled in my new room, having lots of visitors and generally riding a wave of positivity.
My lovely Mum continues to visit daily, bringing me a proper coffee and supplies. She's 78 and it's me that should be looking after her right now!
I'd started seeing someone in the months leading up to all this and I had questioned whether I could put her through all this, at such an early stage in a relationship when it's meant to be fun. I'm pleased to say I've found a "keeper" and she's been with me all the way.
I had my first dose of Idarubicin that night. My treatment had begun in earnest.
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