A Bit Flushed

Well this shot of chemo has flattened me a bit this time. But I did have a good laugh when someone suggested that it wasn't the chemo.
'You don't think it was that massage, do you?' they asked.
'Urmmm, I don't think so,' I managed to reply, thinking of the 4 million syringes of cleaning fluid that were flushing through my veins.

Life at school, meanwhile, has improved for the 8 year old, and I was glad to hear that he has learned of a new way to knock a class mate to the ground, without resorting to a pink cricket bat.
Whilst the teacher was out of the classroom, a few of the kids decided to have a competition to see who's face could go the reddest. My 8 year old did pretty well in the heats, and managed to get himself into the final against a little lad who had broken his arm a couple of days ago whilst sliding down the bannister head first.
In the final, the other boy was elected to go first, and was doing a fantastic job of turning a deep shade of crimson, when suddenly, he blacked out and collapsed onto the ground, bashing his head on the threadbare carpet as he landed. Fortunately, he came round almost immedietely - with the sound of cheering classmates and a very sore head.
Gallantly, my 8 year old handed victory to the boy, who was crowned 'King of the Red Faces.'
It's great to see them getting on so well again...I think