By the time we had packed and sorted everything out we all felt it best to get nearer to Zurich, just in case the snow got any worse, and in fact within less than a week it had snowed so much that all the ski slopes where shut, though I suspect the efficient Swiss trains would have still been running.
Some last photos of Wengen and views from the train journey down to the valley.
Outside our Hotel door
So back in Zurich we boarded our flight and before long our plane was landing at Birmingham airport.
Next morning it was back to reality with a bang for us all. Sally and Mark were busy catching up with work, and I had an appointment for chemo.
I have to say chemo number five had taken a heavy toll on me, and I was feeling weak and weepy before the inevitable blood sampling and vein prodding even started. But it had to be done, and eventually we got there. But number six had some bad after effects for me. I ran a high temperature and had to visit A&E. Then took to my bed for about 5 days; neither wanting to eat or even drink anything. But the appointment to see my consultant had been booked quite some time ago, and I felt if I missed it they may well decide against the operation which had been promised. So I hauled myself out of bed, though feeling far too ill to get dressed, and in pyjamas and a thick dressing gown my brother drove over to take me into the hospital. Sally being far too rushed to have spared the time – her business commitments having increased dramatically over the time I had been back in England.
Having arrived at the hospital there was no way I would have made it down all the hospital corridors, so Mike went off to find a wheelchair and with him pushing we trundled though to see the consultant.
I have to say she was surprised and dismayed to see how I looked, and of course I still felt very weak and tearful, so she decided it would be safer to admit me for further observation, and the operation was to be delayed – though – thank goodness, not cancelled.
I think one knows one’s own body, and I had felt that for some reason things had been going down hill for me since my last encouraging scan. I was in far more pain again, and was now up to the maximum dose of regular painkillers. Perhaps naughtily I didn’t mention this as I felt that the operation might be cancelled, and that if I said nothing and was put on the list it would probably just go ahead. And in fact I just about managed to hold on until the 28th of the month – the day scheduled for the operation, though getting a little worse each day.