Day 4 flush

I'm far too excited. After my radiotherapy I was due a flush 5pm but they kindly took me early, my cashmere and fleecy double helped the canula strike vein first time and we're off.

Top marks to the staff again, in reception, radio and here in ward 1.

Never have I enjoyed 4 days of interesting medication so much.

Tomorrow no more flushes just the radiotherapy then party time.

Hibs host st Johnstone on Saturday and a fixture full of the saints turning us over, but this year feels like a 3-3. We lead 3-1, concede late, again.

We go mob handed. 4 of each side will meet in the Bellfield brewery before and after to deliver pre and post match verdicts. 

The match day mascot is local celebrity Callum.

So we've got food first as well which should be fun. It's also post match for the cancer with two Hibees in Arnaldo and Stuart, both moving to 4 years on from their own worst of times. Stuart from what I'm getting and I still feel for him when we eat. The removal of teeth and rendering of saliva glands leaves him with a legacy nobody would crave. I of course destroyed so many of my teeth before my 20's that I didn't need many removed. I'd lost my massive chew sets before the Bee Gees sang the song. I'm also known as a slavering shreck so for the saliva to slaver less has no monstrous effects excepting my dinner table diners need not adorn their poncho's when I'm eating. 

The other obvious caveat is a pulse. Without one we needn't discuss saliva, choking or chuntering about choppers.

My more precious concern is how I confess to having taken three days to read 2 pills twice a day. I even mentioned metadexanation on the blog, my two, twice daily tabs I took 1 twice daily until realising. Sounds like a Mia culpa, sorry. What do I do now? 

I took one with my 4am breakfast of yoghurt and peaches, then Weetabix with tea. It means, i'm only 2 light and 10 hours late. Less time on the naughty step but will I learn the lesson to read out loud and check with a more sane person in attendance.

As I'm sitting on the naughty step I thought it time to see how my Political manifesto is going.

I got stuck at medication the last time. I wanted a market model that was distorted European not north American.

The problem for me is that America is driven by two desperate bunches of despotic and destructive Divas. The insurers and manufacturers fighting products in the the courts, rarely counting the cost of delaying the cures. 

I met a great cancer research Professor on the Camino in 2013. We walked for a few days as he listed me many of his cures and why they reached local deadends and why he'd had to send out of Vermont to the wider world to progress, curiously to Lund in Sweden which made me chuckle at the time. He explained why the market didn't work for the many cures and the complexity the industry faced. I'm sure it still does and if he's still in the field, I'm sure he has a few more contacts he passes his intelligence to.

I understand that drug companies need their patents while insurers are protecting their insured by not allowing high octane expensive treatment to become available but neither helps the patient.

My manifesto would be patient led. I believe a left handed capitalism approach can produce a solution and it works better when you focus on the complete beneficial outcome. Right handed schematics seem to be naturally directed by immediacy of returns and not their longevity. This is normal as the cycle reflects the individuals involved. This indeed has been normalised into what management regard the 3 year cycle of change. When you have an industry called change management l, you know where you're heading for. The clue is indeed in the title. You will get change, not product, not cure, not even profit. You'll get change.

The market needs to produce, and it can produce and procure a patient package. It needn't just be about profit, we can make money from it, but maybe not low hanging fruit funny money. Not Change money where the fruit nearest the camera can obscure the frost damaged nonsense behind.

Talking of fruit I took myself down to see how the Joan were at the allotment. It was 5° at 7am here in South Edinburgh and it was chemo cold. I had my coay cashmere liner on inside my top and it was required. The allotment proved a bit too much for me but did perform it's outstanding early morning task. I did not need my sachet of Laxido, half way up the path to my plot I realised as all gardeners know it's time to get back to the house.

Superb, I thought. A handful of flowers and raspberries, leave the potatoes and all the rest 

Grab a few apples and good to go.

Yesterday evening as I gazed over the water in the park at Stockbridge I thought what a great view. 

Sun was moving slowly, a bit like me, and there was no rush. There was a calm about the moment, even the people on the benches and lying on the dewy grass just seemed caught in their own mystical moment, magical.

Many of us live in beautiful settings where we get the chance to ponder little and wonder a lot. I get that so much. I can stand at O'Cebriero for about 20 minutes in a complete Dwaam. Shiskine can do the same thing standing on the 4th tee. So many places where I feel so alive and yet I'm doing nothing. 

I read a beautiful line articulating more eloquentoy than I 'what a lot had happened in the year gone by and now a fairway at Crail......' Its resonance was perfect. There is no answer it just is.

Sometimes you just have to breathe it all in and let it settle in your lungs.

I was sat opposite a guy getting his last chemotherapy and we were talking about music. Later on ge explained how a chest infection led to his first X-ray for years and Lung and eusophagus cancer. Caught early enough and treatable. Wow, I thought, I just keep learning.