If I fall asleep now

We always set the tv on a timer in bed, and normally once the room becomes marooned by darkness and silence, I’m able to drift off but this time I just cannot. I spend a couple of hours on my phone looking at football news and football sessions because laying there staring into the night didn’t help.

‘If I fall asleep now I’ll get 6 hours sleep’

Tummy is doing summersaults as we tick over into Tuesday 6th April.

‘If I fall asleep now I’ll get 5 hours sleep’

Tummy is still doing summersaults and thinking about everything that could possibly happen. No matter how much research I completed on chemotherapy it still hasn’t painted a clear picture of what will happen. I’m wired and have accepted I won’t be sleeping much.

‘If I fall asleep now I’ll get 4 hours sleep’

Els been fast asleep next to me all night and I’m so glad she’s been able to rest and sleep as I know how much stress this has caused us both over the last few months, and how much stress will be caused moving forwards.

‘If I fall asleep now I’ll get 3 hours sleep’

3 am and I’m starting to think about getting up and doing chores around the house as I know I’ll be out of action once chemotherapy starts. It’s a short lived thought as my mind begins worrying and racing again.

‘If I fall asleep now I’ll get 2 hours sleep’

What if I get all the terrible effects of chemo, what if I’m too sick to move, too sick to eat and drink. What if I’m losing too much weight. How does the hair fall out? Will I get bad skin, what if I have a reaction to the chemo? So many worries just smothering me.

‘If I fall aslee..’

***morning alarm***

Typical; fell asleep 1 hour or so before the alarm goes off and now I feel so tired and just want to go back to sleep! But I force myself up so I can have a good breakfast and try to be as normal as possible before I have a shower.

6.45am and I take Ellen’s morning coffee up and I settle down for my second nervy number two. My tummy is in bits and the last time it was like this was the day I did my UEFA B presentation.

We set off at 7am to get to Addenbrookes for 8am and I sit clammy, nervy, tired and apprehensive. I’m as quiet as I’ve ever been and I’m squeezing els hand so tight. She’s doing her best to distract me and I really do appreciate it.

We pull up in the car park, el wishes me luck and I do not want to get out of the car. I’m scared and I know it’s going to be a long, arduous 2 months.

A kiss, and a see you later. Off I go with my red rucksack packed with snacks, bottles of water, puzzle books and magazines. I’m a walking spar and these are my last tentative steps before I go from the unknown to the known.