Crashing the car - again!

So, here we are in Christie's for the last week of IL-2. Thank goodness for that. Even Oakley was jumping up and down and telling Quent it was the last lot, before we set off. Needless to say, we hadn't told him that but he must have overheard someone saying it to us - or vice versa.

The excitement of the finish is marred by the struggle of the final stretch. Marathon runners will understand, no doubt. I feel churlish saying I can't be excited yet, when we know it's nearly over and that it has given Quent his life back. The only way I can explain it, is like a car crash. Every time we come (in fact pretty much every dose!) is like getting into a car knowing it will crash and Quent will be hurt. We know he'll almost certainly pull through and his injuries will heal quickly, but we also know that it's very tough and the second week's crashes are worse than the first. Watching Quent get back into the car ready for his 61st crash is very hard.

Last night's prang was eventful. We have already had the nurse practitioner round - and the portable ECG machine. I feel we've phoned a friend and done 50/50 in the early stages of the game. Still, eventually Quent settled and he's now sleeping after his second dose & rigor. His urine output is minimal - as it was this time last round. So, we will see how we go. Everyone is saying not to push it too hard - even the Boy Racer Prof.