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Bhagpuss 2025-07-17T07:32:23Z On the way home from one of my first chemotherapy sessions the car broke down in the middle of the road at a junction and i had to get out and push it into a supermarket car park while Mrs Bhagpuss, who was driving, steered. Then we had to limp it in first gear at about five miles an hour to a garage. The garage owner was so disturbed when I told him the situation that he drove us both home in his own car. The same week, we had a plumber come in to put in a new faucet in the kitchen. He was the junior plumber because it was supposed to be such a simple job. He managed to break a pipe and had to call in the senior plumber and the two of them spent most of the day trying to fix the damage and failing because they'd somehow managed to do something that meant the inflow of water from the main couldn't be switched off. Eventually they gave up and told us they couldn't do anything until the water company turned off the supply. The water company came the next day and found the spigot in the road was corroded and couldn't be turned so they'd have to replace it. They had a waiting list for that. It was going to take three weeks at least. The best solution they could offer was turning the pressure right down to almost nothing so the temporary fix the plumbers had tried to install would just about keep the place from flooding. We spent almost the first month of my chemo with water barely trickling from the taps. At least the problem with the car turned out to be something minor and that got fixed in a couple of days. A few weeks later, coming home from a chemo treatment I tripped on the kerb outside the house with a bag in each hand and fell full length, breaking my fall with my forehead. I was damn lucky it didn't split my skull open. I had a dent in my head for months. I can still see it if I look carefully. And I haven't even mentioned how side-effects from the chemo nearly killed me. It was supposed to be a relatively low-impact treatment and until it gave me a pulmonary embolism, which is apparently very rare, it wasn't too bad. I didn't lose any hair but I did lose some sense of taste, which made eating a chore at times. One the positive side, though, I kept my sense of taste for sweet things so I spent three months eating donuts and cakes. Worst diet I've had since I was a student, I think. Don't know if that helps but good luck with everything anyway.

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