My mom and dad called just as were finishing breakfast this morning.

I knew something was wrong last time we spoke, I just knew it. Soon after we'd spoken, my mom started running a temperature. Maybe she was already starting to get ill at the time we spoke. Anyway, she ended up in hospital for three days, being treated with antibiotics via IV. Apparently she'd become what they call neutropenic, which is where your white blood cell count gets so low (thanks to the chemo) that you're dangerously vulnerable to any random infection.

They didn't tell anyone till she was home again. Didn't want to worry us.

She says she's feeling fine now. Doesn't sound 100% to me, though.

She goes to have her white blood cell count checked on Wednesday, and, if it's okay, she has the next round of chemo on Thursday.

They gave her a whole list of things to do, and things to avoid, during the time when her white blood cell is likely to be very low - which is about 7 to 14 days after the chemo treatment. Some of them are pretty obvious : things like washing your hands frequently, and avoiding germy places. Others I wouldn't have thought of. She's not allowed to touch any raw fruit or veg, for instance. Someone else has to peel them for her. She's not allowed to eat certain things. No salads, no grapes, no plums, for instance. No soft cheeses, no deli foods (that one is more intuitive). No restaurant food.

This is so awful. I should be there. Surely this shouldn't have happened after her very first treatment?

I was in a state when I was trying to get lunch together so, instead of slicing into a bread roll, I sliced into my thumb. I hate that feeling right after you've cut yourself, when you know it's bad, but you haven't yet looked to see just how awful it is. It turned out to be a deepish cut across the top of my thumb and down the side of my nail. Lots and lots of blood. I think it probably could do with a stitch, but I just can't face the thought of several hours waiting at the hospital for one itty bitty stitch. Bobby wants to glue it, but I think I'll just leave it be till tomorrow and then see. It's not sore anymore and I have it more-or-less held together with band-aids. Stephen looked at it and said, very compassionately, "It's good it's your thumb. You hardly need your thumbs for climbing."