Like today, your preparation is complete. If you've missed anything you'll find out soon enough. It's all gone. You are now in this moment. It's a different moment from the one you spent most of yesterday in, but it is a moment in time, that's all. When I say, that's all, I'm being dismissive as we always are in our moment, it's just suddenly, circumstances remind us of this long known fact. There is but this moment.
I'm using the moment a lot to counter my claustrophobia as thisoment will pass, I laugh, along with all those people who know I will be gyrating like a manic street preacher or possibly just engaging my primal scream.
I've a few more moments ahead as I've a shower, tube turning, flushing, packing, raincoat on then walk to Western. In the moment to be recorded in an hour, I'll include bus replaced walking.
Oh, yes, did I mention bus. Yes, easier to type this but photos are frowned upon. Here's one as I walked up kilgraston road. I see my hair's falling out in anticipation. I as walked passed the cars I thought rush hour is everything, well it was, until the 24 came around the corner, suddenly I couldn't resist hitching a lift to Stockbridge, then I can walk, a wee walk, through the park.
I so enjoyed our moments on the golf course yesterday. I was full of trepidation wondering if I could swing with a tube.
When I hit the second and got 1 putt pars at 6 and 8 it was wonderful to recall how accurate a short shot can be. I walked off with 31 points and thought that's my best this year.
On the Camino, my well trotted out phrase is St Jacques will provide but you're never sure what. When it's going well and suddenly you hit a hole in the road, take a tumble and start to cry, you remember, it's just st Jacques on the wind up. Your ankle needs a day of rest and you find the best tapas bars in Ponferrade.
It happens all the time on the Camino and I'm always asked why it never happens when you get home, wherever on the globe home is. I think it happens at home all the time, I say, honestly, it does all the time.
I'm in love with my serendipitous existence. If illness had not been around me in 2009 I may have continued to work.
I moved into the care and Camino sector and I've never looked back. I've never been poorer financially but so many things have improved dramatically. I got to enjoy my Mum's dementia inside the ropes and help her and my Dad adjust. She had 10 good years after I retired with only the odd road of speed bumps as I wrestled too gently with my Dad to get her into care. I say to him all the time there's no exam mark for this stuff and I know my Mum's latter existence, from 2003 when he walked the Camino and I went over to look after, 'mind'er', was pretty good. Back then she had moved from the chaotic collapse of the great organiser to a serene and fun loving woman who's inhibitions had been shorn.
The responsibility that had lain so heavy on her since was 15 had finally been shed. The best part of Dementia in my minds eye is when you lose some of the rules where you've always felt obligated. 2003 was the end of letting the Gite and 2002 had been the 70th family gathering and the final nail in the Gite. Cleaning it every week to a standard she felt obligated to maintain. I've always said which came first, the Victim or the Bully. I know obligations only too well and I know how many people allow themselves to be bullied by them, in 2003 my Mum was free l, I'd restructure ld myself out of a job, gone down to 2 days a week and we had a great 10 days together.
Dad had a superb Camino and it is the stuff of legend how he left the albergue, walked around the Pyrenees and ended up back in St agien pied du Porte. Oh how we all still laugh to this day. Me and my Mum in my head, with a map of the Camino in front of us on the farmhouse table. In the 9 days that followed he made it to Astorga. A phenomenal distance.
When I bumped into John Frame, that misty Friday morning, he was talking about Euan's charity, MND and all things life, we were in our moment and on the same page. It's probably 2 years since I've seen him, it was but 2 minutes ago. It wasn't "what have you been up to", it was quite simply today, now and this moment. It was a pretty good moment too as the fog was clearing for the world pairs short golf championship on the oldest piece of course near me.
I just passed that other pitch n putt on the way in at inverleith park and now I've arrived at ward 3. The holding or reception room has a view.
Whenever you check into an albergue you always have a wee sniff around the place. A hospital is no different. You check out the toilets and chat to the fellow pilgrims about their journey. I'm always mindful that not everyone has the same journey. Unfortunately I'm usually mindful after putting my foot in it. My fellow pilgrims today has had a rather longer post code diagnosis journey. Same cancer as me but a year longer in getting here.
I've got a rig whereas they've got a peg. It's a bit like tomato, tomato, but the rest of the journey seems the same.
We wait here until the beds ready then we get our needles in and the fluids in preparation for the chemo. I think it's 5 hrs 2 hours 5 hours but I may have that wrong. So on Camino speak, we walk to Orisson then after we hit the border between France and Spain with the fountain we descend for 2 hours and then get to lie on our backs on the albergue at Roncesvalles with a drip.
I have been looking forward to actually starting for so long. Just like the Camino preparations are fun but we just want to get started. I think my cannula is going in now so it's 10:30 and the fun begins.
I can't prepare for moments. I still keep trying to predict certain things but intuitively know it's all just got to be about letting go. Letting that moment be and then be in the past. It doesn't deter from the excitement of thinking, I wonder how I'll be on week 4, 6, 8.
5th attempt on the cannula and a cheeky wee yellow needle was the trick. My curly veins seemed to cause problems again and hats are suitably doffed to Reza who slam dunked the first needle on fitting tube day. I thought that was an even better performance when you consider the day before it was 6 attempts. Sometimes there's skill, sometimes there's luck but you do get luckier the more you practice.
I read in the paper that she'd been signed on a 5 year deal worth £3m over the 5 years with bonuses. Let's face it a penalty box striker who always scores is worth their weight in gold. Football fans talk about chances created and taken. Golfers talk about greens in regulation and birdie attempts taken. Phlebotomists, with a good conversion rate as gold dust. Whether you measure time with a patient or on cannula savings alone it's phenomenal to have players of this quality on your team. Edinburgh is full of them and on goals scored I back them against anyone.
I noticed on the Lancet that a few oncologists had been trader on the first round draft. It's not the NFL but these kids are valuable commodities and priced accordingly. Forget Chelsea and their 8 year deals our oncologists are being signed up on £40m, 10 year deals with university loans being waived as part of the sign on. Forget the obligatory 80 hours weeks, some staff are being offered 35 hour weeks and time off for training.
Creating a world class team on the park doesn't just focus on the goal scorers, rather it's the whole back room staff. The whole match day and season long experience is being worked on.
Nursing staff are being given 7 year deals with loans being waived and accompanying accomodation in a bid to bring some of the biggest stars from across the globe.
The coaching is first class too. All 2024 deals come with guaranteed time on the pitch but also off the pitch.
Every new hospital build now comes with a variety of accommodation for those with or without families and the attraction of the career path has exploded.
Even the porters in the boot room are committing to long term deals. The cleaners have never been more excited about seeing how the team on the park are performing and enjoying this complete reversal of form over the last 40 years.
Historians will look back at this period and wonder why it took so long to arrive here. Who knew survival could be so captivating for an audience.
They'll trace the roots in this volte face to the day millions were witnessing Eriksen collapsing on TV at the Euros. They'll tell us in our conscious minds we all say up and realised while goals were good, getting better was even greater.
Our fascination with figures would seal the deal on the rest. It started with oncology and cancer but within a short period of time babies were being born, hips replaced and stomas reversed regularly. Across the pantheon of health patients were playing the game and making sure we were paying professionals the value we placed on them.
"It's one thing to have the cure, it's another to use it" said the Prime Minister on announcing the latest financial fair play statement. Pensions, accomodation and a state of the art facility.
Every stadium hospital in the land, productive to work in, excelling in care and a fantastic watch.
The spectator sport where the action is 24 hours a day, 365 days a year.
Dare to dream.
And dream I have, but back to reality.
I went down and had my Andy Warhol. Aka 15 mins of FLAME.
I was wearing my mask so I didn't get too burned. It was over quite quickly as I tried not to get too worked up. I'll try hyper ventilating 5 mins before I lie down so I just need the rest.
I took my fluid drip down with me. Walks a bit like Mark in St Andrews circa 1981 when we were trying to get him to fife park. Three steps forward two to either side then one back.
I really want to fix the wheel before I leave tomorrow but for the time being I will settle for the Fat Al/ Vinny B version of strictly. Dancing Al with a wonky drip.
I'm coming to the end of my chemo now as the sun sets on the Western. I had to take a picture when I was a metric pint in. 568ml, am I really that ruled by numbers?
I just can't help it, I see them everywhere I go.
I got loads of information today and powered down quite quickly. So e needs storing most needs knowing and some can be binned almost immediately.
This pill is for sickness it will last 3 days. Ok, I thought swallow and forget. This Jag is to prevent clotting, it'll be fine as long as you don't scratch. OK, I'll not scratch, wait 10 seconds and then forget.
Luckily with all my eczema I have a no scratch rule.
So I've got the boomtown rats singing ....it's only 8 O'clock...well 8.35pm to be exact ....oh those numbers in my head.
The good news is the chemo is almost done and I can drink the bar dry now.
This donativo albergue Western is just the business. I got lunch at 1pm, tea at 6pm and have had so many cups of tea, jugs of water and biscuits. I'm going to suggest Baclava when I get the suggestions sheet. I'm partial to some honey almonds flaky pastry and a tidy tasty morsel.
I've got my 4pm cream which is my early evening Metallica cream for my neck a wee bit heavy metal and then I've got the cream I use for my eczema for the sun burn. It's an all day don't be shy cream. The leaflet is very good so again I don't need to pay attention, yet. I got one other nugget of advice. I don't need to shave. Music to my ears. So I'll pop into the barbers and get a wee trim in three weeks or see if Deeks can bring his clippers to the golf club.
Chemo now flushed and I'm back on my fluids, A 4-6-2 formation, a bit like our team playing SEGS up on Crail. Sounds like a pencil variety, 4HB, 6HB, 2 HB. A four hour bag followed by a six hour then a Dos Horas. My six hour bag starts at 1am so I imagine my prostate will enjoy the journeys across the dancefloor. I've just got to remember my phone so I get the 8 steps. Who knows by 7am, I might have danced my way to 1000 steps.
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