Dad's work closes for the festive season, so he is doing the drop offs and pick ups. Its great because he leaves home later, and arrives to collect me earlier than Mum. He shows the nurse my nose with its broken down skin when I am admitted and she promises to tell Dr Val.
Dr Val tells Dad there is a possibility we may stop after 17 treatments if my nose isn't coping. 17 treatments will work, but not as well as 19. Mum and Dad are torn - less side effects with 17, more chance of long term survival with 19. Then Mum says "Well, we don't really have a choice - Gromit will let us know what happens next."
Dad decided to try and repaint the deck floor boards - not an easy task when you're at home alone with Misty. And its raining on and off. He is waiting for the weekend when Mum won't be working to do the painting. So, in between trips to the vet, he is sanding and preparing. Misty is helping - stealing pieces of sandpaper, lying in the way and tracking mud across the deck. Somehow I think Mum and I have the better deal here - we don't have to listen to Dad asking Misty to move every three seconds.
On Thursday, Dad asks if we are stopping at 17 treatments. It appears not. So, we are due to head back for #18 on 4th January.
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