Week 3 (Part one) - The Monday that changed the plan...
Monday morning. Week 3. Up with the birds. Priority coffee, making sure everything is ready for the girls, ironing clothes for me and Thomas and making sure both our bags have got everything we might need - diary, anti-sickness, paracetamol, radiotherapy cream, sunglasses, charger, headphones, xylitol gum, purse, wallet, phones, 3 French hens and a posse of Peruvian pan-pipers... Thomas gets up and straight away he's not good. Feels sick. Groggy. Emotional. It's a bad start from the minute he opens his eyes today. It's been the worst night yet that he's had for mouth pain too. He's in a bad way and he looks the way he feels. We get to Northampton on time and it's business as usual. Weigh-in 73.4kg. The book goes in the basket and he picks a chair. The more days that are passing, the sicker he looks 😔 which is hard to see given that Thomas was in some of the best shape he's ever been in when this nightmare began. But today's the poorliest he's looke...