Friday 11th September

Toby was in the recovery room when Martina, the lovely anaesthetist, tells me he has a slight temperature.  37.5 degrees.  This in itself is not too bad or dangerous, but when we hit the magic number of 38, it usually means a trip to hospital, and often a stay for a few days.  The last time this happened was February when he was on his intensive chemotherapy.  I'll be gutted if we have to go in, with the end being in sight now.

Martina also tells us that she won't be in next week when it's Toby's last treatment sessions so she wants to say goodbye properly today.  She has been the most lovely anaesthetist you could ask for.  She admitted she is very fond of Toby and loves his approach to everything he is facing.  She said that she could tell even though he really doesn't like 'the wire' (used initially for a slow feed of the anaesthetic, but Toby wasn't keen on the feeling of losing control so they now just push it in in a second or so through a syringe!) and the final few seconds of consciousness, he goes along with the routine in such a good natured way, and so bravely.  She thought that was a good trait to have.  Her conversation was sometimes the longest interaction I had with any other adult for the whole day!  Fantastic at english, but happy to speak in german to help me practice we chatted about all sorts over the last month 6 weeks.  I felt quite emotional saying goodbye, and she was keen that we let her know how Toby gets on and grows up.  I think with the treatment centre only doing about 100 patients a year (and only a small percentage are children), and not being in a hospital setting, there is definitely a unique feel about the place, and the chance for closer relationships to be formed. She brought out a lovely polar bear for Toby as a present, and he's been horsing around with it all afternoon!

His temperature goes down a bit through the course of the day, and does drop below 37 again, but it's annoyingly just above 37 for most of the readings.  His body must be fighting something, and with his blood count so low on Tuesday, it's probably not going to just go away quickly.

Back at the flat, I spend a bit of time ironing and clearing up to get organised, in case we need to go into hospital.  Toby does some jigsaws and the predictable setting up of his train track.  Then this afternoon, with his temperature still ok, we make a trip over the border again for some food shopping before Sam and Kyle arrive tonight.  I feel like I'm smuggling illegal stuff into the country when I nip over there.  There are limits on food items (one days worth!) and milk and beer and so on.  The thing is, it's so much better value, (literally half the price on many things) and less than a mile further on than the shops in Switzerland.  Petrol is better value in Switzerland though so naturally I fill up here!

We are in the shop less than half an hour, and in that time I am asked about Toby's burnt face on 2 different occasions.  No inhibitions like at home.  Luckily they don't seem too embarrassed when I then have to launch into full explanation of what's happened to him (no I haven't let him sunburn that particular part of his face!).