What have you done today....

Karin has just sent me a chapter of our next novel. The very day she's endured her latest bout of chemotherapy. I haven't looked at it yet. But she's warned me that art and drugs might well have collided.

“I have uploaded another steroid induced chapter. Bear in mind that I can't use one word when several will do under the influence, so may need severe cutting.” She said.

I'm left feeling both amazed and ashamed that she's actually written something. Here's her reply when I wished her good luck last night:

“I'll be so full of downers to take the edge off that I shall probably barely notice it - zopiclone for sleeping which only seems to kick in in the morning, lorazepam for anxiety which is a pillowy cloud around my head, em-end for anti nausea which makes my stomach feel like it has been padded with cotton wool. Plus my mother's go-to arcane hippy trippy happy clappy stuff - rescue remedy, which is a whole load of useless plant stuff dissolved in helpful brandy. Except you only get to have 7 drops at a time which rather defeats the purpose I'd have thought.“

So Karin has chemotherapy and knocks out a chapter of a novel. Me, I dicked about on Twitter, had a snooze, half-read my book on gambling and had a small bet on the 2:05 at Sandown...