Wobbled my way with H to see Prof this morning. Immediately sent to the bedroom off the chemo suite at CCL to have a litre of fluid dripped in as am unsurprisingly very dehydrated. Doc came to talk about mouth treatment options – just hearing her and H discussing mouthwash made me sit bolt up and retch into a cardboard bowl. I hadn't even tried putting some in my mouth…
Prof came down, took one look at me and insisted that I be readmitted to the 3rd floor at the Dark Side. Tears rolling down my face as so desperate not to have to stay in, but I know it's probably the only way I can get fluids in to rehydrate me and possibly try to use the mouthwashes to sort out my mouth. Even if it means I'm instantly sick, what a great prospect.
Now in Room 314. Little, but the mattress actually fits the bed frame, small mercies. Mr H has gone home to pack my hospital bag. Poor love is very upset at me being this ill for so long, feeling a bit helpless and on his tod. All Hawksey virtual cuddles (or meals) much appreciated.
More later if there's anything thrilling to tell. Place your bets in the Vomit-O-Meter now – how many will I rack up before I get back out of here??