Cancer convalescence is a walk in the park

Rob took me to Bradgate Park near Leicester today. It was the home of Lady Jane Grey, who was queen for nine days, before they beheaded her. Poor Lady Jane, she was only sixteen. Afterwards they decapitated some of the trees in solidarity.

Here are some pictures of the various ruins, follies and animal-life there. This peacock very kindly gave me one of his feathers. I thought that was a good omen, then a woman in the teashop told me peacock feathers are unlucky. But of course I don't believe any of that superstitious rubbish.

'Hear all, see all, say nowt;

'Sup all, eat all, pay nowt; and if tha ever does owt for nowt do it for thysen.' (traditional Yorks saying).

Have been in God's own country this weekend visiting lovely people in Wetherby. My mother, rest her soul, would be horrified to hear Yokshire thus described. When I was growing up the wars of the roses still waged in our household; in her Lancashire head they were still fighting. Yorkshire puddings were off the menu, and she once sent me off on a walking holiday near Whitby with the warning: "Watch out for those Yorkshire farmers. They'll shoot you."

Personally I find Lancashire and Yorkshire people very similar. They exude warmth and community spirit and have a way of speaking their minds which is refreshing to someone of a more southern disposition.

We cycled to Spofforth. Sounds like something out of Harry Potter, doesn't it? There is a ruined castle there - shown in the pic. We went to the pub of the same name.

Then it was back to Notts for barbecues and more barbecues, before the British summer intervened once more.

Chemo starts on Friday. Now it's getting close I want to get on with it so I can get it over with.

What's your poison?

'Chemotherapy..is a controlled systemic poisoning.' Dr Friedrich Staebler

The after-effects of a dose of chemo include: nausea, vomiting, dry mouth, tiredness, visual disturbance, confusion, memory loss.

Sounds like a heavy night on the ale!

Better stock up on alka seltzer.

Oscar's alternative therapies

Oscar is better at yoga than me - as you can see he can get his leg behind his head. He is also pretty good at relaxation and meditation, and when we listen to the hypnosis CD in the morning he doesn't wake up when he's told to, but stays in a trance until roused by a whiff of tuna or the sound of a distant tin opener.

I'm becoming a complimentary therapy junkie. Just been to acupuncture. I am going to try something called moxibustion which, it's claimed, can enhance the positive effects of cheomotherapy while lowering the toxicity. The technique has been pioneered by a guy called Dr Friedrich Staebler who qualified as a medical doctor then later took up Chinese medicine. He recommends this treatment alongside acupuncture as a back-up rather than an alternative to conventional cancer treatment. Worth a try.

I know there's a lot of quack science out there but acupuncture is something I think works. I started doing it about three years ago in an attempt to break a cycle of constant colds and fatigue. Since then I've been virtually virus free. Then I went and got cancer.

Perfect day

Featuring bikes, boats and barbecues...
Yesterday began with glorious sunshine and finished with an apocalyptical thunderstorm. We took the bikes out round the Attenborough lakes, another first since the operation (pushbikes - not yet ready for the Yamaha), had a picnic out on the river then in the evening threw some fish on the barbie and lit the fire bucket -seen here kindling to the accompaniment of JP on guitar. Later we retreated inside to watch the lightning. Today everything smells of wood smoke.

Military diplomacy

I phoned Colonel Sensitivity yesterday. Big mistake. He told me I might as well write off the next four and a half months because chemo will make me feel so dreadful.

And he knows best, because he knows one person who's had it. One! I've spoken to dozens!

According to him my optimism is foolishly misplaced. I should prepare for the absolute worst so as not to be disappointed. And to avoid infection, I must not go out and not see anyone.

He said: "Do you think you've got the mental strength to deal with this?"

Well I'm doing ok so far. I've had two killer diseases before the age of 50. Two more than he's ever had.

Is this the way he motivates his troops?

He then wanted an argument about politics, but by then I'd had enough.

And as usual I thought of all the things I should have said after putting the phone down.

I only phoned up to speak to his wife. She deals in compassion and empathy where he deals in conflict.

Hair!

This (the one called Laurie) is what I will look like in a few weeks time. People will hardly be able to tell the difference!

Some people go for a second wig, and as you can see there are plenty of other options should I get bored. But how to choose? Perhaps I should put it to public vote?

Meanwhile, we civil servants are now able to find out how many of our big cheese bosses earn more than the Prime Minister: http://www.direct.gov.uk/en/Nl1/Newsroom/DG_188114