Re-emergence

It's been three weeks since the last chemo infusion so the drugs should officially be out of my system. Recovery starts here!

Have been scanning my scalp for signs of re-growth. Nothing yet. Probably a bit optimisitc. I'm told within 2-3 weeks I can expect 'soft fuzz', with normal hair growth after a month. In two months I could have a whole inch of hair! Such potential...maybe the hairdresser could make me look like this?

Now that winter is here the wig has been getting more of an airing. It keeps my head warm, but soon starts to irritate.  Anyone who invents an itch-free wig could make a lot of money out of the NHS.

Got a week off before radiotherapy starts so hoping to head out of town for a couple of days. Also planning trips to places that have been off limits, like restaurants, swimming pools and the cinema. Anyone seen any good films lately?

Tales of the riverbank



Home from home


Another glorious November day. We brought the boat to its new winter moorings. JP and brother did all the work. I just sat back and enjoyed the ride.

Years ago I lived near here as a student in a wooden shack called the Boathouse. Three of us rented the place during the summer of  '83 (a hot one) for the princely sum of £25 a month. We spent the summer working shifts in a nearby pork pie factory, swimming in the river and tootling around in a rubber dinghy. Happy memories. Funny how things come full circle.

Sadly the Boathouse is no more. It got demolished to make way for a car park. Generations of Nottingham students mourned its passing...

Brothers on lock duty

Cat in the doghouse

Oscar, bored with his prescription 'sensitivity' diet, has been causing chaos in the kitchen.

He has just learnt, in late middle-age, how to leap onto the work surface, and in the past week has SHOVED the lid off a steaming pan of bolognese, SMASHED one of our best plates, SWIPED three meat balls and SCOFFED the best part of a tin of tuna.

John thinks we should get tough, show him who's boss, teach him obedience through a system of reward and punishment. But Oscar won't buy that Pavlovian stuff. Being a cat, not a dog, Oscar won't obey...

Why me?

I don't mean this in a self-pitying, 'woe is me', sort of way, but 

Sunny Beeston - who needs California?

everyone with cancer must ask themselves this question.  Why does someone with none of the usual risk factors (no family history, not a smoker, healthy lifestyle, healthy diet etc etc.) get it?

I got chatting to a woman at the radiotherapy clinic. We were speculating as to causes. She thought it was something to do with micorowaved meals in plastic containers. 

Toxins leaching out from plastics? Pollutants in the air? Electromagnetics from our phones and wi-fi devices? Growth hormone in dairy products? A combination of factors in our chemical world? Or maybe it's just luck.

Another woman I know was diagnosed last week. Cancer, it seems, is everywhere.

Meanwhile JP's been trying to persuade me that November is the best - not the worst - month of the year, and after the glorious weekend we've just had, I was starting to believe him, until today's relentless rain set in.  Took this pic down by the marina on Saturday.

California dreamin'

Shoreline Lake Mountain View

Now that November's upon us it's hibernation time. With its misty grey drizzle and dark afternoons it's bringing on a touch of winter blues. I want to curl up under a duvet with lots of good books and stay there till spring.

Some people beat the SADness by jetting off to sunnier climes. My hit counter on this blog tells me there's a regular visitor from Mountain View California. Doesn't that sound a wonderful place? Whoever you are, can I come visit?

Just when we thought I'd got it licked..

I've developed a mouth ulcer at the base of my tongue. A miniscule thing but it's wreaking havoc. Everything I swallow has to pass near there so eating is an effort. Food must be soft or preferably liquidised.

It's the chemo's final assault before retreating from my system for ever.

I am hoping it will get better of its own accord, but I've had it three days now and the pain has started to spread up my ear canal so I may have to get it checked out. I guess you need white cells even to fight a mouth ulcer.

Red cells, white cells, platelets; chemo attacks so many of the body's natural defences. I hope it has been as ruthless with any lingering cancer traces. It is only when the system's out of sync that you realise what an amazing triumph of design and engineering the human body is.

Dream sequence

"Trying to get to Heaven before they close the doors"..Dylan

I am in a spacious, white-walled room. The only thing is this room is a giant canvas on the far wall depicting the Last Supper. It's not the one by Leonardo. It's more like El Greco's painting as seen here.

As I move towards the canvas the room I am in melts away and I am walking into the picture. The disciples are getting up from the table and exiting through some doors at the far end. Last one out is Peter - the only one to look round. I instinctively know this is Peter. Noticing me, he holds his arm outstretched, 'talk to the hand' style, as though pushing me away. He then turns his back and makes towards the doors.

I run after him yelling: "Let me in, let me in, don't leave me here," but he is gone.

Seconds later her reappears, and beckons me through.

At this point I am woken by JP because I'm shouting in my sleep.

What's THAT about?

I don't normally remember dreams but this one remains vivid. And I'm not even on steroids any more.