Friday 14 October 2016

It’s a long way to the top (If you wanna Rock ‘n roll!)

Self-Indulgent, Hand Wringing, “It’s all about me” bollox!



Friday 14th October.

Today’s headline photo is the first AC/DC album I bought, it was released 38 years ago this week.

This blog and my book originated from a Facebook post on 26th December 2016. I finished that post by saying I wasn’t trying to elicit sympathy, I reiterate that comment for this blog post. I’ve explained in the past that I find writing to be cathartic, if I ever needed a catheter then it’s been in the last fourteen days or so. The past couple of weeks since the last update have frankly been pants. I wrote a book called #ShouldertoShoulder and then ignored that very phrase. Instead of drawing on the strength of friends and family I withdrew into my own cocoon and wallowed in self-pity. One of the reviews of the book had mentioned that I’d always thought of others and never of myself. Well these two weeks were a self-indulgent orgy of “Why me?” I’ve no real idea why I suddenly felt like there was no point in going on. Ok, there had been a few knock backs, but nowhere near as bad as things were back in March. It took a moment of being as low as I’ve been since being diagnosed to kick myself back up again and to realise that there are people in far worse positions than I am.

The catalyst was perhaps calling the Endoscopy Unit at RBH to try and chivvy on the results from my colonoscopy, only to find out that they didn’t seem to have any record of me going in. It’s not the worst procedure in the world, but it’s also not one I really want to repeat in the next couple of weeks. To date the treatment I’ve received from the ENT Dept. Scary, Mr More Scary than Scary, Jo et al, has been wonderful. But I’m beginning to lose faith a bit in the rest of the hospital. The member of staff I spoke to in Endoscopy didn’t seem to understand that waiting on results is a stressful experience for patients, especially those of us who’ve had a bit of battle with cancer recently. I got no real comfort from her that they’d a) Find the results, or b) communicate back to me what the result is! At that point I felt let down, alone, angry and frightened.  Pretty stupid feelings when I’ve a family around me and friends who I know I can call on to give me a cuddle, despite the fact that they’re probably going through their own demons too. The results were finally found on Friday and the good news is that there was no sign of anything to be concerned about, I just wish I hadn’t had to worry for the, over three weeks, it took to report back.

As an aside I was listening to a radio debate following Fraulein May’s comments regarding foreign doctors working in the NHS. I slowly but surely started to seethe at some of the callers comments. So far this year I’ve been treated in 4 different sections of the RBH, with various degrees of satisfaction. If we start at the top, I give you Scary! She’s white, English, and by far the best doctor I’ve been under. Then let’s go to the bottom on the pile. The chap who made me feel 6 inches tall and destroyed me back in March when I was at my lowest point. He was white, English, and by far the worst doctor I’ve had the misfortune to be treated by. In between I’ve been seen by doctors and nurses from all four corners of the world, even a Welsh nurse! The one thing that the vast majority had in common was the ability to show the patient empathy. That’s all most of us ask for, to be listened to and to be understood. But, the patients have to play the game too. I saw, far too many times, patients being rude and to a degree, abusive, to the staff who were there to treat them. You may be in pain, you may be frightened, but you’ve got to understand the staff are just ordinary people too. This of course doesn’t count for the twat of a doctor (???) who called me a fake, he deserved both of the barrels he got! The NHS may well be creaking, but it’s still a damn sight better that the majority of 1st world countries and it’s free at the point of delivery. Having said that I was once in and out of the A&E in Eindhoven with a broken arm in under two hours on a Saturday afternoon. The fact that 6 weeks later I got a letter enclosing an invoice for Euro 60 was a case in point, even worse was it was entitled “Slag Weekender” which apparently is Dutch for weekend surcharge! Try explaining that one to the current Mrs C.

 I let myself, my family, and my friends down on Tuesday 4th October, that can’t happen again.

I don’t things have been helped by the fact that for the past couple of weeks I’ve been at home every day during the week. Max leaves around 8.30am, Carol an hour prior, so at time I can be by myself until early evening. I’ve not been out for work purposes for a while now, mainly down to the fact that my voice is so poor that I’m shying away from visiting customers. The last time I went to see a customer was quite painful for me. They kept asking what was wrong with my voice and I wasn’t in the right frame of mind to explain things fully to them, especially as it was a fairly difficult message I was delivering to them.

Somehow or other I’ve managed to go from 87kg at the end of June, down to 75kg the last time I stepped on the scales wearing just Chanel No. 5. Those of you who know me will agree that I haven’t got a spare 12kg to shed. I’m trying to eat as normally as possible but it’s a real struggle to get food down my throat. An example is that two weekends ago we went to some friends for dinner. I had probably 1/3rd of the sized dinner of everyone else and it took my nearly half an hour longer to eat than the others, that is really depressing. All I can hope is that the magic balloon trick will be a short term solution. I’ve even gone as far as buying Complan, which is god awful stuff, but it gives the vital ingredients needed for a balanced diet. When I was really ill I was prescribed Ensure drinks, they were pretty good, but without a prescription they are hideously expensive. I’m not entirely sure if the NHS will fund those for me this far down the treatment line. I’m trying desperately not to rely upon a soup diet, to me that would be admitting defeat to the bastard that is cancer. There’s also no way I’m going to go down the “Puree” route, not whilst I’ve got most of my own teeth in my mouth.
Over the past few months I’ve obviously become more aware of cancer, what it does to you and how it effects those around you. I was pointed in the direction of a blog post by an Australian girl called Lisa. Her writings are truly inspiring, thought provoking, tear inducing and at times simply laugh out loud funny. The blog is entitled Terminally Fabulous, the title probably gives away Lisa’s diagnoses, but I’d encourage you to read her words and follow her on Facebook. If you do, please comment on her posts, she reads them all and they give her strength to carry one. 


It was whilst reading one of Lisa’s posts last week, when I was feeling really low, that the light bulb slowly started to glow. I may be feeling a bit down, but I’m not dying. If I was I don’t think I’d be brave enough to open up my inner most feelings to the world. So, going forward, when I get down, and it WILL HAPPEN, I’ll wallow for a while, think of Lisa and lean on my family and friends.
Right, that’s the self-indulgent, hand wringing bollox out of the way for a while.

Last weekend saw the beginning of the upward curve. Rams took on Barnstaple at OBR. Now the Barum boys are old friends from National South West 3 days. Like Rams last season, they’ve found the promotion to National 2 South to be a big step up. A final score line of 31-20 to Rams is probably flattening, and hard luck for Barum. But forget the game. Barum are probably one of the few clubs at this level to have a female Team Manager. Vertiy White is a total star. I first met Verity possibly four or five seasons ago when I was still running the line for Rams. 


I’d arrived at my first match on the line without any flags, only for Verity to save my blushes just prior to kick off. If memory serves me right Rams won the game with a last minute penalty from some considerable distance. I hadn’t seen Verity since I’d been diagnosed, we managed to miss each other when Max was down in Exeter playing for the Badgers in the summer. The bear hug I received is still being treated with painkillers four days later. The White family had made a day trip of the match, Verity was with her father, son and daughter, a really lovely family.

Her son took great delight in telling me how much money he’d raised at the recent Macmillan coffee morning, I’ll admit to having a slightly damp eye at that point, damn the dust being blown up J I really hope that Barum stay up this season, obviously not at the expense of Rams, it’s a great ground to visit, full of very knowledgeable rugby folk, but very welcoming to opposing supporters too. I’m not going to be going to many away games this season, the travelling is still too tiring, but I have got the trip down to North Devon pencilled in in my calendar. The club house was pretty busy after the games on Saturday. I had to hang around for a while as Max had been playing over at Marlow for the 4th’s. When he was eventually dropped back it was with a rather nice looking bruise on his face and apparently far more bruises in parts of his body that weren’t on view – welcome to Adult rugby son!
The week at work has been better, still no customer visits, but I’ve been kept pretty busy all the same. A busy mind helps me to stop wallowing.  

Wednesday started off as a normal, run of the mill day. A to the RBH for my Pre-Op Assessment. All seemed to go ok, even if my blood pressure is a tad on the high side. I’m now all set for a 7am start on 2nd November, another “Nil by mouth” night awaits. The early evening, however was horrific.  I had arranged to meet a good friend for a beer or eight in the evening, so I jumped on the train, exited the station and made my way to our usual starting haunt, the Three Guineas. Disaster, the 3Gs is closed for refurbishment!! There are some things in life that a man finds difficult to cope with, having a vasectomy is one, finding out your favourite pub is closed is anouth. A number of years ago I used to use the Jekyll and Hyde on the way home from Basingstoke most evenings. Driving past one evening to see it surrounded by fire engines, which smoke coming from the roof was heart breaking. I digress, Jools and I settled down in a cozy pub, sank a gallon, settled all world problems and woke up with cracking hangovers!

I managed to get to the ripe old age of 54 on Thursday, one more year ticked off, a few more to come yet I believe. Just for a change we went to Nino’s for the evening celebration, another cracking night at our venue of choice for birthdays. A birthday card on the table, an individual profiterole with a candle in it for pudding (They remembered I can’t eat cakes at the moment) and a bottle of Amarone opened and waiting for when we arrived, and you wonder why we keep going back.

We’re off to Amsterdam at the end of the month, just prior to me going in for the balloon stretching. Four days of relaxation, great food, wonderful coffee and a bit of window shopping awaits. And it won’t be a Slag Weekender ;) It’s about 20 years ago since we last went, I doubt much will have changed, and we’ll certainly remember to look out for the cyclists when we exit the train station! I spent some time in an earlier life working for a Dutch company in Eindhoven. Carol would get a flight over to Amsterdam, I’d get on the train and we’d meet up for a long weekend which the company paid for (not sure they were totally aware of it, but hey ho!). Along with the more obvious attractions, which take about 10 minutes to get bored of, the city is great for gastro’s. I had probably the best steak I’ve ever eaten in one of the Argentinian restaurants, along with a sublime bottle of Malbec. Indonesian cuisine, chips with mayo, it has it all. Apart from of course it’s worth avoiding the genuine Dutch restaurants, unless you like food that’s flat, seriously “google” Dutch gastronomic delights, it’ll be a short search.

The book sales have just about dried up now, 108 copies sold to date. That’ll generate royalties’ of around £220 from Amazon, my employers have agreed to “Match Fund” what I raise so each of the charities will be receiving a payment of around £220 from me once Amazon remit the funds. I think it’s 90 days from the publishing date from what I can work out. Along with the sales drying up, so have the reviews. There’s only 18 so far. I would encourage you, if you’ve read the book, to please review it, it could drive further sales.

That’s it for this update, I’m ending the writing on a higher note that I started in this update which is all positive. I’m not sure when the next update will be, but I suspect it won’t be until after the magic balloon trick has been performed. I will try and get a photo of the “Stalker” in a window in Amsterdam though.

Thanks for reading this ramble as always.
To be continued……………


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