The Up’s and Down’s of Cancer.

2017 in words and pictures.

I was mulling over the year a couple of nights ago, thinking about this time last year, and the massive differences the 365 individual chapters in this book have made between then and now. So, in the best tradition of any publication, here's my review of the year 2017, based on my blog posts. 

January –  "Look After Yourself, You Only Get One Go At This........."

Only one short blog that was all about looking after yourself. There were no pictures to follow the blog up, I’m guessing when I wrote it I was feeling in my usual “It’s January” malaise. So here’s a pic I took in January of Arnie and Danny, separated at birth, but reunited on Burns Night.  

February – "Runners 'n Writers"

The month’s two blogs were all about raising awareness of the guys ‘n girls who were going to run the Reading Half Marathon in March to raise funds for the Berkshire Cancer Centre. It was also the anniversary of me finishing my first course of treatment for cancer, as the time I hoped it would have been my only course of treatment. How wrong I was. 

March – "Run To The Hills"

Four updates in the month, two about the wonderful success of the Half Marathon (Watch out for the links this coming year, a different, but equally worthy, cause!) One post about the fact I was feeling quite down and in quite a lot of pain during the month. I think the cancer was showing it self again by March. I also had my tattoo done. The other post was a sad but not unexpected post about the death of Lisa Magill who had written so brilliantly about her own battle with cancer under the tag of Terminally Fabulous 

April – "That Difficult Second Album"

Again, just the one blog post. I’d recognised the fact that my voice was becoming weaker and weaker. Communication was becoming more of a challenge. The throat was becoming more painful. I met with More Scary than Scary and he put it motion the process of a fresh PET Scan over at Churchill Hospital in Oxford, a place I’d become pretty familiar with over the next few months. My post said that I wasn’t worried, I lied, I was crapping myself. The upside to the month was the end of the rugby season as some great photo’s from the Rams Mini Festival 

May – "Stalking on Sunshine (Or The Last Days of Summer"

The May blogs were real contrasts. Carol and I had our first holiday of the year, back to Fuerteventura again. It was a wonderful break full of food, exercise, and sunshine.

 

After the holiday reality kicked in. A PET Scan, followed by yet another biopsy confirmed the worst. The cancer was back, it needed major surgery and my life would be changed for ever. The remaining blogs of the month were reflective and progressive. I became involved with MacMillan’s “Life with cancer is still life” campaign. I started to look forward to getting the cancer cut out.

June – "This Is Getting Real............. My Friend"

My busiest blog month, and my longest blog at the end of the month once I’d gone under the knife. The other blogs were shorter and quite dark in places. Reading back now to the beginning of June it was obvious I was in a fair amount of pain and discomfort from the cancer. I’d stupidly driven down to Bournemouth to photograph the Badgers at the 7s festival, but had to leave after only a few hours as I was feeling so rough. The final blog of the month described in detail my first week in the Churchill, I must have been very, very bored as I seemed to have described every day in detail. 

July – "All The Best Freaks Are Here - Stop Staring At Me" 

 Another month of four blog updates, the first contained the great news that I was now Cancer free…………… (Again)!!! Albeit, this time I was left with some permanent reminders and not just memories that fade with time. The rest of the month was spent recovering and the remaining blogs described the process of coming to terms with Lary, along with my plans for coping. I seemed quite upbeat for most of the month, the only “Downers” were really when I pushed my luck a bit far and overdid things, such as the Fat Boy 7s. But there was always the memory of being at OBR when the Lions drew the series in NZ  

August – "Where Do We Go From Here?" 

 Four posts, the first of which was very, very depressing. Reality of how my life was now changed forever really began to kick in. I was more positive for the remainder of the month, slowly but surely learning how to manage Lary, and to realise that full recovery was a long, long, long way off.  We finished off the month with “The Great Cornish Jammy Doughnut Controversy” when Carol, Max, Laura and I disappeared down to Porthcothan for a week. We met Sidney for the first time and so without knowing it the wheels began to turn that would eventually bring Neville into of lives. 

September – "Hi Ho, Hi Ho, It's Off To Work I Go..........." 

 Five blogs in the month, I must have been getting better. The beginning of September brought the start of yet another rugby season for the Clark family. It saw Anna graduate proudly from Lincoln Uni and start a new life up in Leeds with Tom. By the middle of the month I was back to work, on a very part time basis, but it felt like a massive leap forward for me. I also had a severe case of Man Flu, but I didn’t go on about it, well ok I did, but it was severe man flu. By the end of the month Sidney had sewn another seed by officially making me a MUG (Mighty Uncle Group). 

October – "Bookends" 

By October I’d moved from weekly blog post up to two a month, there just wasn’t enough to write about to post weekly. Another lump had been discovered around the same area as my cancer so to be on the safe side a further biopsy was arranged, all passed smoothly and luckily this time there was nothing to be afraid about, benign is a truly wonderful word to hear a surgeon utter. I was still having problems at times with speaking, and I was still having problems with my suppliers, Countrywide. Both problems are still ongoing now. Two work related meetings up in London stretched me to the limit and upset me to a degree. I wasn’t able to perform anywhere near well enough to be considered “Fit for purpose”. Carol received her signed copy of Why Mummy Drinks from Gill Sims, awarded to her for services to the British Gin Industry whilst she's been abroad. 

November – "Leaving On A Jet Plane"

The first overseas holiday with Lary to Gran Canaria, an interesting place, not sure we’d go back to the same resort and I discovered that fine sand and Lary do not make for good bedfellows. I also started on the three weekly cycle of having to have my valve replaced due to it leaking fluids through to my lungs, which in turn leads to coughing and then a chest infection. The final blog of the month was all about someone else. In 2018 if you keep reading my blogs I suspect you’ll see the #DoingitforDani hashtag on quite a few occasions. 

December – "Every Dog Has It's Day"

The beginning of the month was quite flat, I was having problems with my valve still, I was struggling to make myself heard when in company and we’d reluctantly decided that we couldn’t take on a Kromi puppy as I wasn’t really fit enough….

….. then we decided we could and brought the bundle of bouncing energy that is Neville home to Berkshire with us.

 I’ve found December to be quite difficult over the last few years. I had a case of depression a few years back, followed by a hospital admittance for an abys three years ago, then two years ago cancer made it’s unwanted debut, hence my letter to Mr C. telling him to politely sod off. Thankfully this year was pretty uneventful. A family Christmas with our new puppy.

Happy New Year to everyone, I hope it’s peaceful and rewarding.

As always, thanks for reading.

To be continued……………

#Shoulder2Shoulder 

They Said There’d Be Snow At Christmas.

Three weeks since my last proper update, not including “Pupdates” and letters to cancer of course. In that time I’ve been to a Christmas party in Manchester with work colleagues. It was not great as my throat decided to play up big time in the early evening, meaning I left the party and was back in my hotel room feeling very sorry for myself by 8.30pm. It was a really strange restaurant that we ate at in Manchester. I think it was a Brazilian theme whereby you helped yourself to the salad bar and then different waiters came to your table with meat on skewers that they’d carve for you. There was rare sirloin, medium rump, lamb, pork belly, chicken and gammon. You’d get a slice or two and then chose again when they came back round. All very bizarre. Call me an old fuddy duddy, but when I go out for a meal I tend to order what I want to eat, rather than waiting for what’s offered to me on a skewer. It probably doesn’t help that I’m still struggling with red meats, but if they open a restaurant in Reading I won’t be hurrying to make a booking.  We had a team meeting the next day in our Manchester office and again I really struggled, by lunchtime I couldn’t speak, and by the time I got back to Tilehurst in the early evening I was broken. I was coughing uncontrollably and was pretty close to running out of the HME filters I use. It was a tired, emotional and upset Clarkie who took himself off to bed that night.

I’ve also become an orphan since my last update. My father has been in a Care Home in Wales since my mother died in 2016. For the last few weeks he’d been drifting in and out of consciousness, he died on 13^th December at silly o’clock in the morning. For various reasons I’ve not been up to Wales so I hadn’t seen him since my mothers funeral. He wouldn’t have known who I was and from a very selfish point of view the eight hour round trip would have been a real struggle. My sister is away in Africa until New Year’s Eve so the funeral won’t be until the first week of January. In recent years I hadn’t seen eye to eye with my father, but I’ll forever be in debt to him, especially for driving me all around the county when I was an aspiring badminton player, and for all the support and advice he gave me when playing any sport.

Neville is settling in really well. The first few nights we were up two or three times to him as his barking / wailing was getting a bit much. Now he sleeps through from 10pm until about 6am which is roughly when we get up anyway. The big job of housetraining has started with degrees of success, and in the New Year he’ll be going to puppy training classes. I think the classes will be as much for us as for him. He had his first visit to our local vets this week for his second jab and behaved like a total tart, charming all who met him, then disgraced himself by having a pee over the examination table. By all accounts he’s in rude health and will be able to go outside to socialise on Boxing Day, which just happens to be the date of the annual Mini vs Junior match up at Redingensians. Some of you may recall that I made a 15 minute cameo last year to say that I’ve played on the same pitch as Max.

 

This year I’ll be behind the camera, I suspect Cool Dude would have kittens if I told him I was planning on playing. 

Neville seems to be building up a bit of a fan club at the moment, mainly with the females too. He’s had three lots of visitors so far. First there was Ella and Lucy (Jools and Josh were just dragged along), then SJ (Under the guise of editing photos) and finally Freya came round supposedly so that young Milo could see the puppy, yeah, right……… 😊 I was slightly concerned as Milo is only just over 18 months old and Neville has been a bit “Nippy” with his other fans, but even when Milo was poking is hand into Nev’s mouth all he got was a good licking. There must be something in the old wives tale that puppies react well to toddlers. I’m thinking of setting up a FB page for Nev to post his pictures on, similar to Sidney’s, but not a copy cat, I’ve also got the skeleton written of a book based on Neville, but that’s a long term project and I really should try and finish “Diary of a Rugby Dad” which at 17,000 words, has still a long way to go to be published.

Last weekend was the annual Christmas Lunch up at Rams ahead of the home match against Clifton RFC. I was on a table with 9 friends and the original idea was that Carol would drop me off and pick me up again. In between times I’d drink a gallon of ale and have a jolly good time. The best laid plans seem to have a habit of going pear shaped at the moment as on Friday evening my valve started to leak quite badly which meant drinking any sort of fluid was difficult without flooding my lungs. By Saturday morning the leak was quite big, so I decided to drive myself. It was still a good day and great to catch up with folk. The food was outstanding, I’m not a fan of traditional Christmas meals as I find turkey usually dry and boring, but Ady, the new chef at Rams, produced a meal which was neither dry nor boring. The stuffing was out of this world. Rams won the match very comfortably and are now sitting 3^rd in the League, their highest ever league position in the clubs long history. Truly nosebleed inducing.

I emailed the Speech and Language team on the Saturday morning before going off to rugby to say the valve was leaking and I could do with a change as soon as possible. I’d titled the email as “Tis the season to be leaky, Fa la la la la, la la la la……” I was surprised to get a reply back within the hour saying that they loved the title and would I care to visit on Tuesday to be re-plugged, it turns out they were working on a Saturday to clear a backlog of paperwork, and knowing the NHS that would have been unpaid overtime too. Tuesday couldn’t come quickly enough as the valve was leaking really quite badly, this made drinking any fluid really difficult without coughing, spluttering and feeling like pooh!

Caroline, my Speech and Language Therapist had come up with another cunning plan to attempt to extend the life of the valves as she could tell I was feeling a bit down about the whole thing. So, we’ve gone for a low pressure valve this time. It means that more pressure is needed to open the valve to get a voice, but it should be more robust. I fitted it myself which was surprisingly easy to do and whilst my voice is a bit weaker it at least feels more secure at this early stage. Caroline gave me a spare that I can use at home in case of emergency and to save me having to trek into the hospital. I gave her a box of chocolates for Christmas, and for being really supportive over the last few months. The first couple of days of using the new valve have been a bit difficult. My voice is very, very weak, but like everything at the moment I’ll give it time before I make a final decision. If it lasts a couple of months then it may be worth the weaker voice.

You will hopefully recall that I’d told the Rams Sirens players who were going to raise funds for the RFU Injured Players Fund that I’d help in any way I could, specifically by taking photos for publicity purposes. SJ, main trouble maker of the Sirens, has undertaken to swim the channel in a relay in the New Year, she mailed me asking if I’d be up for photographing the Sirens for a charity “Calendar Girls” type calendar. After some discussions with the club to make sure they were happy with the idea and ensuring that it would be a closed shoot we rocked up to OBR on a cold but bright Tuesday afternoon. My admiration for the ladies who took part in the shoot knows no bounds. Not only were they prepared to have someone they hardly know take pictures of them baring all for the greater cause, they were also happy (?) to lie down in the cold mud for a couple of the shots. One comment from a nameless player was something along the lines of “My lady bits have never been so cold!”. I’m very pleased with the final edits of the shots, all done in the best possible taste. Once the calendars are finished I’ll put a link up here for where they can be purchased. Here’s a taster shot from the day –

 #doingitforDani

As is now traditional at Christmas the Rams Students play a match to try and get the lads who are away at Uni or where ever get to play with their old mates and reacquaint themselves with the odd shaped ball. This year’s match was played on Wednesday with the opposition being a strong Chinnor side. Max played as whilst he isn’t strictly a student yet, he is an Under 23. Chinnor won the match comfortably, but the real winner was the game. Over 50 lads got a run out, there were smiles all round, the bar was busy, everyone had fun. The shot below shows Max with lads and coaches from his age group. Max, TG, Alex and Ben started playing together when they were 6, they’re now 19 😊 

The next day I was really paying for being outside for a couple of hours on a cold and damp evening. I couldn’t stop coughing and had virtually no voice to speak with. I also had my final check up at Royal Berks for the year. By the time I checked into ENT and passed over my bad of chololates and biscuits, as a small seasonal thank you to the wonderful staff, I was feeling decidedly rough. The clinic was quiet as befits the last days before Christmas and I was called in five minutes early to see Cool Dude. He could tell straight away that I wasn’t in a great place and forgo sticking a camera up my nose and down the remainder of my throat. The problem I have is that a normal person, when breathing in cold air, gets it warmed up by their mouth and throat before it hits their lungs. With me breathing in via my stoma the cold air just goes straight into my lungs. I can’t wear a scarf over my throat as I wouldn’t be able to breath, so a bit of a catch 22. Cool Dudes advice is to try and avoid, if at all possible, going out in really cold weather for any length of time. Over time, and he’s talking about years rather than months, things should get a bit better, but chest infections come with the territory. Bearing in mind that one of the things I get the most enjoyment from is photographing the Rams teams I left the hospital feeling pretty down. By the time I got home I was in a foul mood and spent the rest of the day grunting in the general direction of Carol and Max, not my finest hour.

It took until Saturday until I really felt myself again. I managed to get into Reading at the crack of a sparrows fart to finish my Christmas shopping and was home again by 8.45am, oh the joys of Marks and Spencer Lingerie section J I decided to risk driving over the Sudbury to watch Rams take on London Irish Wild Geese and was glad I did as Rams ran out easy 52-12 winners against a poor LIWG side. It was the first time I’ve been to the new ground of LI and whilst the pitch facilities are first class the whole place seemed to lack any soul or identity. I felt like writing a letter of complaint to the BBC Weather forecasters, they’d been banging on all morning about how the weather would be mild. Mild? It was bloody artic at Hazelwood!

Today is Christmas Eve, it really doesn’t seem like two years ago that I was originally diagnosed, it seems far, far longer than that. My memories of life before cancer are quite dim these days, as are my memories of life before Lary. But I can vividly remember Carol and I sitting in the office of Scary and meeting her and CNS Jo for the first time on 24^th December 2015, being told I’d got T2 Throat cancer, but that in Scary’s opinion I was “Worth Saving.” Having to go home to the kids and say “Sit down guys, we’ve something to tell you, Dads got cancer, Ho Ho Ho, Happy Christmas…..” This year there will be the five of us at home, Carol, Anna, Max, Tom and me. We’ll be eating a simple Lasagne tonight. Laura, Max's latest squeeze will join us. Carol will read The Night Before Christmas to the kids on the sofa, including Tom whether he likes it or not. The dinner is pretty much prep'd for tomorrow, just the veg to sort out. Penny and Nev have just had a big bust up, but they'll eventually tolerate each other. The second bottle of wine is open, chocolates are being scoffed and I may well "Rest my eyes" for 15 minutes or so. 

Happy Christmas to everyone who reads this blog. The messages of support and encouragement over the last two years have been massively appreciated, it’s been great to make lots of new friends through this horrible bastard illness. To all the folk I chat to who are still having a battle, together we’re stronger, we know what it’s like, we know that bitching and moaning are sometimes better than a large slug of morphine (ok, that’s a lie, nothing is better than a large slug of morphine, but you get my drift). There are some friends I’ve lost this year due to the big C, I’ll be raising a glass and thinking of you and yours.

Finally, there are a few folk out there who deserve a name check for being around when I’ve most needed it in the dark times. Dougie is going through the same as me, we can bounce. Kasagne who knows what it’s like.Kim in NZ who seems to be awake 24 hours a day and is a wise old bird. Tina in USA is a “mad dog women”, but in the nicest possible way, and can change my mood with her chat. Chris H. who manages to come up with the more inappropriate comments at exactly the right time. Graeme C. who manages to come up with the most appropriate comments at exactly the right time. Matt and Pete who are always around for a chat when needed. Sidney T. who managed to persuade me that getting a Kromi would be a good idea and to Jo for allowing me to change my mind. All the folk on the Peter and Jane FB page who offer support and a degree of piss taking. The wider Ramily. Carol, Anna, Max, Penny and Neville, my family.  

Here’s to a totally boring and uneventful 2018!

As always, thanks for reading.

To be continued……….

#Shoulder2Shoulder

An Anniversary Message to Cancer

17^th December 2017

Dear Cancer,

It’s two years ago this evening that you first entered my life in any meaningful manner. It was today in 2015 that I had my initial biopsy that would show you were having a sneaky little bite at my neck, and not in a seductive manner either. We know now that the biopsy didn’t go too well in more ways than one, but 24 months later I’m still here and I’m alive and kicking. 

You’re still managing to kill people on a daily basis. 

Every day 900 new people are given the awful news that you’re inside them. 

Every day people commit to fight you with every breath left in their bodies. 

Every day the Medical professions around the world get closer and closer to a cure for your evil little games. 

You may win the battle, but you won’t win the war. I think we’ve had this conversation before, but it’s worth reminding you every so often that you’ve no chance, me old mucker!

No doubt we’ll be speaking again soon. Have a crappy festive season, hopefully you’ve very few left before you’re gone for good.

Yours Faithfully.

Paul Clark – 55 Years old and still going strong, no thanks to you.

Every Dog Has It’s Day.

A Brief Weekend Update

I’m going to skip over the Monday to Friday rubbish this week, as it was entirely pants and not worth wasting anytime on typing. Saturday was slightly better, even though it was damn cold and I wasn’t feeling up to taking any photo’s of the Mighty Cents 47-31 victory over local rivals Newbury Stags. Max benched, got on in the second half and had a decent match. No muppetry and a decent, run, dummy and offload.

Sunday was a rather special day, read on ……………

In the last update I mentioned about the Kromfohrlander puppy that we were within a gnats piss of taking ownership of, and how I’d thought it wasn’t a great idea with where I was in my recovery from my cancer surgery.

After chatting to my Consultant, the family and a trusted confidant, I changed my mind, so please welcome to the Clark family, drum roll………………………………………….

……………………………… Neville!

I’d been following Nev’s breeder on Facebook, the photo’s she was posting of the two remaining pups were heart breaking when I considered why I’d declined. A Kromfi puppy isn’t going to need too much exercise for a few months, they’re quite delicate and need to be kept under wraps until their bones and joints have grown. Max is going to be at home until September, so when Nev needs the longer walks if I’m not yet up to it Max will be.

So, I mailed Jo the Breeder and asked if she’d reconsider us as owners considering I’d pulled out a couple of weeks ago. She was delighted that we’d had a change of heart, as was the ever wonderful Sidney when I mentioned it to him. So, on Sunday 10^th Carol and I hit the road at a crack of a sparrows fart for the long journey down to deepest, darkest Dorset. We were both a bit nervous and had spent a small fortune the previous day on supplies for pup. Cage, toys, blankets, toys, bed, toys, collar, toys, lead, toys food bowls, toys, water bowl, toys, puppy coat, toys…………… etc, etc…………

We were originally going to use the tried and trusted method of naming a pet in out family after the first try scorer in a Rams match, but I couldn’t really face being in the woods and shouting for Scuba, Hendo or Stapley to come to heel. Max came up with the idea of Neville, and it seems to have stuck.

It was a  2 ½ hours trip down to the breeders, in god awful weather. Snow when we left Reading and then increasingly heavy rain and wind all the way down. The breeder lives in a tiny village in the Middle of Nowhere, next to Sod All. The last few narrow lanes took a wee bit of navigation, but we eventually arrived and knocked excitedly on her door, well we would have knocked, but no real need as her two adult Kromfi greeted us at the door. Nev was one of four puppies still at home, one was being kept, another being picked up on Monday, and the final one being viewed later in the day. Nev seemed to take an immediate shine to us both and was happy to be cuddled, fussed and generally made to feel special. We didn’t stay long as we wanted to get him home and settled, so with a quick hand over of documents and a final pay “Bye bye” we were on our long way home again. It took about 10 minutes before Nev pee’d over Carols arm J

A pretty uneventful trip along the windswept A303 followed with Neville alternating between dozing and looking around the car. As we neared Reading the snow that we’d left behind in the morning was still hanging around and was in fact getting worse, so it was with a steady foot and hand we drove back the last few miles to home.

Penny is not impressed, and at the time of publishing has refused to come downstairs to meet her new playmate. Neville has found his new bed, eaten his lunch and most of Penny’s until I caught him, and is now exploring his new home in between power naps!

I think we made the right decision.

As always, thanks for reading.

To be continued…………….

#Shoulder2Shoulder

Bring Me Sunshine…..

The period since my last update has been a bit of a challenge. The damn valve had started to leak again but this time instead of an intermittent drip it was a constant leak when I drank. This in turn meant I was coughing heavily, and in turn led to another chest infection. The valve lasted just over 3 weeks again and whilst it is one of the type I can change myself I was advised that the first one needs to be changed under supervision at the hospital. I was lucky in that Caroline from Speech and Language Therapy was free to see me on Monday lunchtime. We discussed the various options available and plumped on a slightly shorter valve at 6mm which may prevent air escaping into my stomach more than the 8mm valve had. Under Caroline’s supervision I managed to get the old valve out and the new one in, only a couple of times would three hands have been handy. There is one more option open to us with a valve which doesn’t let so much air in as the current version, if that doesn’t work then we’ll need to go back to the one that needs to be put in by the hospital.

We had a long chat about the way forward and I opened up about my concerns. Last weekend I attended a Quiz Night up at Redingensians RFC in aid of the RFU Injured Players Fund, a charity that is currently supporting Siren Dani whilst she recovers slowly from her injuries. (See last update for details!) I found the whole evening quite difficult, if I’m in a fairly noisy environment I struggle to make myself heard and tend to withdraw into my own shell. This happened at the quiz night, by the end of the evening I wasn’t talking at all as I was tired and struggling to make myself heard. Max and I left before the end of the evening as I was beginning to get upset with myself. The rugby club hold a number of major social events over the year, the Christmas party is coming up in a few weeks, Carol and I have been to every event going for the last five or six years, but we won’t be attending the Christmas party, I can’t bring myself to sit in a room full of people partying whilst I’m struggling to communicate. I explained all this to Caroline and my thoughts that once we got back from holiday that everything would be ok and I’d be back to normal. She explained that whilst I’m well ahead of the game as far as my recovery is going, and my voice is much better than most people who’ve been through the same procedure, it is still very early days. Because I found talking after the operation to be fairly easy I’d never bothered to take up the offers of specific speech therapy, in my usual manner of “It’ll be all right in the long run” I thought I’d just keep improving. Caroline has offered to run through some specific breathing exercises with me and would see me again later in the week to trial an amplifier system which may make talking in crowded places easier for me. I left the meeting feeling far happier than when I arrived, opening up to someone that I’m not really coping that well is cathartic and something I really need to do more often.

I was back in the ENT Dept on Thursday as promised to trial out the amplifier systems with Caroline, there were four to try, ranging from a pretty basic and clunky system, up to a state of the art piece of kit. Think of the basic one as a Nokia 3210 and the state of the art one as an iPhone 8. They all work on roughly the same basis. A speaker pack clips to your belt, wires extend to a microphone and away you go. The differences between the systems seemed to be down to the compactness of the speaker units more than anything else that I could see. The midrange system seemed to be the best suited to me and rather than using a microphone in front of my mouth I used a throat microphone that worked on the vibrations just above my stoma and roughly where the voice box used to sit. It also meant that I didn’t look like a total dick or a taxi driver. None of them were perfect, feedback is one problem they all had, and the throat mic was incredibly sensitive to any movement at all. Caroline left the room at one point, closed the door and asked me to shout something. So, at the top of my voice, I shouted “HE’S OFFSIDE SIR!!!!” – She heard me, as did most of the staff in the ENT Dept, and I believe a few drivers on the London Road braked sharply 😊 Caroline confirmed that the NHS has no budget to fund these toys, so if I want one I’ll have to buy it myself.  It’s not something I’d use all day, every day, but for something like rugby matches or possibly social events it may make life easier and stop the strain I put on my voice whilst trying to be heard. It’s probably equivalent to an iPhone 6, not the latest kit, but still pretty handy.

A couple of weeks ago, I met up with my boss in Reading for a general catch up and chat about my working hours. The day just happened to coincide with my chest and throat both playing up badly which meant I could hardly talk and had to change both the base plate and the HME filter whilst we were meeting. I’d been struggling a bit at work again of late. I’ve avoided using the phone unless it’s totally necessary. When we came back from holiday I committed to myself that I would be working full time again, but when it came to it I’m still not fit enough, I still need to sleep, I still can’t promise that I’ll be able to speak properly, I’m still not fit for purpose. We’ve agreed that we’ll review the position after Christmas and see where I am then. Talking of Christmas, as you’d probably expect with the industry I’m in, we get quite a few invites for Christmas entertainment. We have to get clearance from the powers that be to attend (Anti Bribery and Corruption laws), and I’m down for four events so far, however I’m not sure if I’ll attend all of them due to the communication problems. I’m also nervous about staying away from home, no idea why really, other than I haven’t been away from home without Carol being with me since the operation. The first Christmas party is in a Brazilian Steak restaurant next week in Manchester. The shame is that at the moment about the only food I’m still really struggling to eat is steak, I guess I’ll be going for the veggie option then. Three and a half hours on the train each way should also be a bundle of fun, especially as I’ve had to book to go via a London route to save money on the cost to the bank.

I’ve decided that the current cold and damp weather doesn’t really agree with me. I went to watch the Mighty Cents play rugby on the coldest day of the year to date, the idea being to get some great photo’s in what was a brilliant light. Dog wearing Rams coat was the best shot I got. 

Instead I spent most of the first half clearing my throat and nose rather than snapping away. I left at half time, I just couldn’t handle it. By the time I got home I was physically knackered and mentally drained. I’m in a difficult place, as whilst I need to wrap up warm (my immune system in still weak), I can’t actually cover up my stoma with a thick scarf otherwise I can’t actually breath! I’m not sure of the solution yet, I just hope it isn’t a case of having to stay inside until the Spring. Maybe Carol and I should just buy a place on the Canaries and spend October to March there each year. As I tend to work from home anyway, I’m sure Santander wouldn’t object. The two weeks or so since the last blog update have been pretty typical of day to day life. With the exception of two visits to the hospital I’ve hardly been out of the house at all during the week. My trip to watch rugby was curtailed, the Quiz night was tough going. I’m in danger of isolating myself from friends and need to make more of an effort.

I mentioned a couple of updates ago that we hoped to have some exciting news to announce. I’d been talking to a breeder of Kromfohrlander puppies. We’d been recommended by Sidney

 

as potential owners and had been provisionally offered a pup subject to us visiting to make sure we were suitable and to make sure we took to the pup. We were within a few of days of travelling down to Dorset when I had a couple of bad days with the throat / stoma / chest (Delete as applicable). To take on a puppy is a massive commitment, he’d need constant care and attention as well as a couple of decent length walks each day. Whilst the exercise would do me a world of good we eventually decided that I’m not in a position to commit to the time he'd need daily. We therefore, reluctantly, but sensibly, decided to pass on the kind offer and let the pup go to someone who’d be able to give it the love and attention he deserved. I’ve been following the breeder’s posts on FB showing the puppies going off to their new homes, not sure that was such a great idea as each puppy looks so cute! We’ll give it a few more months to see how I get on, but I suspect that within the next 12 months we’ll be hearing the pad of tiny paws in the Clark household.

That’s about it for this update. Carol and Max are off to Portsmouth on Saturday to look at the Teaching Uni Course he’s applying for. He’ll make a bloody good teacher if he gets his degree. I intend to take photos at the rugby this weekend. Rams are still in 4^th place in the league and are hosting Bury St Edmonds RFC who are a couple of points behind in 5^th, so it should be a tight match. On Sunday the Rams Sirens take on London Irish Ladies in their next league encounter. The forecast looks ok, the temperature should increase from the current Baltic like conditions, all is well in the world. 

In the last update I mentioned that instead of feeling sorry for myself I’d try and do a Dani and think of others in a worse place than me. I realise that whilst reading back on this update prior to publishing that it comes across as a bit of a “Woe is me” but that’s not how it’s meant to look. I’m not feeling sorry for myself, I’m being realistic. I have good times and I have crap times, it just so happens that the last couple of weeks have been pants, I can’t change that fact and I can’t sugar coat it. On Monday morning (no idea why it’s Monday and not the usual Thursday afternoon appointment) I’ll turn up at the hospital for my monthly check up. More Scary than Scary will no doubt stick a camera up my nose and down my throat, look bored and ask a couple of questions, then he’ll say there’s no sign of nasties and bid me on my way for another month. That means I’m still cancer free and that means that however much I may bemoan the fact that I’m not really keen on the cold, it doesn’t matter one iota.

As always, thanks for reading.

To be continued……….

#Shoulde2Shoulder