Well we had a setback - probably the first of many over the coming months - and no chemo because the line had a clot in it. In the awful position of having to wait for a porter to push the wheelchair back up to the ward where they are waiting to take it out...and wait... and wait - til finally a doctor came down to see what had happened. Sat in a bizarre wheelchair queue of people at least 30 years older, burping, farting and coughing and sneezing - I placed myself between them and my precious child, heaven knows what I might catch. Then we walked back! Quite sureal. It's the only word that fits the events of this visit. An Italian porter came to take us to x-ray and was spectacularly funny when he had got the wrong person, it made us sxxxxxx uncontrollably for about 30 minutes. They should employ him to make patients laugh - who knows, perhaps they do. Ciao beeyootiful laydees! Made my day anyway.We couldn't all get back on the same flight because of the weekend rush, so I came back on my own whilst they stayed for the chemo. We face 2 per day weekly injections now as well as tablets. You understand the royal 'we' in this situation? It's terrible hard watching some of this happen, they hoiked us out at one point so they could do their stuff without an audience prepared to jump on them at any point should the patient squeak or wince... imagine doing your job under that kind of spotlight!And now a neighbour just came round to say she's found 2 kittens in her garden and were they mine? Not with a Dobe in the garden, sorry. Oh and a postscript, 2 stories - the lounge lizard either got the bullet today or was headhunted. You choose....either way he could be on his way to a desk near you shortly..!