It really is a rollercoaster. Life.

When you think you have reached the lowest point, you’re hurtling towards a lower dip. When you have experienced a high you’re not sure this particular ride can get much higher, then it does ever so slightly.

It’s so fast-moving with twists and turns you struggle to keep up. The best thing is to just go with it, not try to second guess what’s coming next.

Chemo weeks are never easy. They’re not as hard for me as they are for Chris, there is no comparison, but they are difficult in other ways.

The last round, five, was the hardest yet.

We had taken for granted that we would be able to forget cancer for a week inbetween and it hit us hard to realise that we couldn’t get away from it. A good week was not always guaranteed.

Before the fifth round we hadn’t managed it. Chris had been a bit poorly, nothing serious just a cold (although we he did end up back in Christies with a temperature on Easter Monday) but his body doesn’t fight it off like mine or yours would so it completely sapped him of any energy he would usually have.

It was half term and the weather was pants so we spent quite a lot of time in the house going stir crazy.

When the time came again Chris just wasn’t mentally ready for it.

He never likes to go into hospital, who would, normally he can pull himself round and just get through it.
This time he struggled.

The worst part of him being in hospital is not being able to help. Not knowing what to do to try to make things a little easier.

The reality is there’s nothing I can do.

It was difficult to try to stay positive for him, about the situation, when I knew that this wouldn’t help either.

I was in a kind of limbo. I just had to wait for him to hopefully start feeling better.

It’s hard to stand by and feel totally helpless.

We were definitely in a low.

Our moods a reflection of the grey days and the shitty situation we have now found ourselves in.

One of the many routine blood tests showed that his hemoglobin levels were low. A common side effect of chemotherapy, which had probably caused the uncontrollable tiredness, it meant he needed to have a blood transfusion.

Within 24 hours of having the transfusion he was already feeling a lot better and his mood lifted.

The grey mist that had been hanging over the house slowly lifted and we have been lucky to have experienced 2 good weeks rather than the usual 1.

Chris has been able to get out of the house, he was even able to go with our friends who were completing the 3 peaks. To see what people were putting themselves through for him really gave him a boost.

We have managed to laugh, the mood in the house is lighter and back to having an air of fun, and slight craziness thanks to Lily and Sam.

I have felt more comfortable about going out and taking some time for myself, something I struggle to do when Chris is feeling so down.

His positivity is back with a vengeance and he is ready for the next round, even though this is the last one before his operation.

For now we are back on a high and smiling easily. I’m under no illusion that there aren’t more lows to come but I know that we will get through the other side.

And now I know to never take a good week for granted again.