The title of my post has been borrowed from the title that Proust intended to give his novel cycle. Never one to discard a good phrase, he went on to use it for part of volume 4, Sodom and Gomorrah. I thought I would borrow it for an update on how I am going after two chemo infusions, which is pretty well.

We saw Dr P on Wednesday. The PSA has risen, but only by a tiny amount relative to the previous score — I made a rough calculation of 10%. So it appears to be plateauing, a sign that the cabazitaxel is working. (Further evidence for this comes from the absence of pain in the lumbar and thoracic areas, allowing me to return to small tasks like grating an apple and running the wheely bins up and down the driveway.) After the consult, my beloved and I headed back to take a lift down to our separate destinations. All sounds very romantic! Alas, I was just continuing down to car park level B2, while she was alighting on the ground floor to go back to the car. Why the difference? There is a subterranean pathway in the car park leading to the westerly part of Epworth Eastern, where the day oncology centre is situated, itself where my second chemo infusion is to take place. (The building containing Dr P’s office was built later; for some reason, it isn’t possible to pass between them by a less convoluted method.)

Once the subterranean whatnots were negotiated, the actual infusion passed quite pleasantly. I have spent enough time in hospitals by now to feel quite at home there. The environment is warm; one is brought tea or coffee (which is actually quite good) and sandwiches. The seats are multi adjustable, good for me as I can have my calves raised to stop them swelling. The insertion of the cannula is not painful; the nurses have all done it many times. I am there for about an hour; I just sit there, read a book, and zone out. (I could alternatively listen to music via my earbuds, linked by Bluetooth to my phone. Last time, however, my phone battery was only at 27%, and I needed to arrange my lift home.)

For this, my second treatment, I had few side effects. Fortunately this is not my first rodeo, having had chemo about five years ago. That knocked me around a bit more, but not for long. I was fairly cavalier that time, travelling by train into the city to get to my poetry group. Now I am more conscious of needing to stay away from groups. Chemo is definitely something that compromises the immune system.