Can you believe it? Week 17. That means I only have about seven weeks to go, give or take. Seven weeks. I’ve had shorter relationships. I’ve had cold sores that lasted longer. It’s a mere blink of an eye. A blip on the radar.

To celebrate, my entire body seems to be having a rally. I feel okay! I seem to have a bit more energy. I am cocooning myself less. I’m getting things done. Okay, not a lot of housework, but other things, more enjoyable things. Like two meetings yesterday. They were much more enjoyable than housework.

I keep marvelling as I slide downhill towards the end of this treatment - despite a few difficult weeks, it has not been terrible. At no point, once I got over the Great Bilirubin Revolt of 2015, did I feel I’d have to stop. I’ve just put one foot in front of the other and here we are: 17 weeks.

I didn’t know how I’d get through 24 weeks when I started. That’s half a year! But with the support of my treatment team, friends, family and colleagues (and of course you guys that take the time to read this blog) I’m getting close.

Seven weeks. Let’s do this.