I missed a day, so days two and three get mixed together into a mashup.

Day two, I woke up dehydrated and with a splitting headache. It wasn't a hangover because my body is, unfortunately a booze-free zone.  Moved like a zombie and fell asleep on the bus.  In fact, I may have fallen asleep on two of them.  Either way, I arrived early, bummed a couple of microenemas from Andrea, the specialist radiology nurse and waited until 9:30 before I went to the toilet; broke of the nozzle; shoved the micolette up my arse; and squeezed.

Then I waited and waited, reading Scott Lynch's "The Lies of Locke Lamora", until I was overcome by the overwhelming urge to shit.  I emptied my bowels and followed the prep procedure by drinking five hundred mls of water over fifteen minutes and then waiting forty five minutes until they zapped me full of radiation.

Afterwards the Radiographer said she was concerned that my bladder was only one third full.  Andrea reiterated the need to remain as well hydrated as possible.  This may be a problem but I decided to do what I could.

And so... Day Three.  This time, I drank about a litre and a half of water between 5AM and 7:45 AM.  This time I was not dehydrated, but by the time the treatment was over, I was dying for a piss.

While we were waiting, one of my fellow patients said that he had noticed my wife plaiting my hair while we were waiting the other day.  We laughed and smiled and it was a little more companionable.  The faces are becoming familiar, patients, receptionist, radiographers and nurses.

On the way home, we visited Mother Earth in Newington Green and bought some herbal teas to replace the caffeine I am forbidden.