Today marks the halfway point of the radiotherapy. B has now lost most of the hair in the area being treated, which upsets him a bit as it may never grow back. Fortunately, hair loss is a rare side effect of his type of chemotherapy, so he might keep the rest. It will be nice if he has eyebrows for the wedding, or I’ll have to paint him a pair of Scouse brows.
We saw B’s neurologist last night for a checkup consultation. At the end of the session he makes notes into his little dictaphone. I think he should do this after we’ve left, but who am I to advise on doctor etiquette? He mentioned that B is ‘coping well with treatment, but his fiancé looks exhausted’.
‘Exhausted?’ I felt like shouting. ‘I’m old, this is how I always look! You should see me without the under-eye concealer!’ I’ve been sleeping a lot better lately, so I did take umbrage at this. He would have physically recoiled if he’d seen me 2 weeks ago.
B has lost some weight, although he seems to be eating normally. He’s still within the healthy weight range but at the low end, so he really can’t afford to get any thinner. With this in mind, I took him out for tapas after our appointment. Any excuse to indulge in deep fried cheese and ham croquettes.