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……………
