While I was away in Paris (that post is on its way, don't worry!) I tried not to think too much about my tests. I tried to obliterate pain and fatigue and breathlessness and just enjoy being with my friends and having a great time in general. It was actually kind of working, pretty much.
Bang.
We took a trip to the Louvre on the 3rd day, and it was pretty darned good. I didn't see the Mona Lisa (I know, I know, shame on me) but I saw many ancient works of art.
Then, halfway through the second of the three galleries I saw, I got a text from my doctor's surgery (that Patient Access thing is pretty handy, but really crap at timing) saying that I had to go back to the blood clinic for another Chromogranin A test.
Crash.
Back to earth.
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