So screams my head, every stuttering day.
Have you a tongue in your head or is it made of hay.
When will this horrific infiltration cease and go away.
Yes, I feel like Ukraine, Myanmar, Afghanistan, Gaza and all those places where it seems endless bombardment of locals is not enough.
I in my wisdom did sign a form of assent.
Regardless of the circumstances they did not consent.
My treatment is time, money and patience we all hope is well spent.
Their tormentors leaders think their mission is heaven sent.
Aye it was ever thus but I've stepped over the line comparing myself to a war zone. I'll quietly retreat creatively behind my pain management barrier and advise any readers that my mind is full of mince but I'm not feeling any pain.
This is because I am in good hands and my doctors will tell all when the bloods are done on Monday. I'll hopefully be coping with the treatment and that my various organs are up to the job. That lack of alcohol does have a few of the pals rolling in the aisles, they feel a real pain at that thought. A bit like my student days this year diary writing is so cathartic.
BDGV, as we said back in the band days. Keep it simple, which with our skills was easy.
By the time we'd all reached 20 our single was hurtling towards #13007 in the charts, just outside the top 40.
As this is the end of week 2 it's apt that it was also the start of the third Life Support as Dave Porter passed the pounding of the pedals and the keeping of the beat to Gav.
Si had been bass player now for 2 years, D'ork having managed only 2 months but we still played his one song and two of his bass riffs. D'Ork famously asked me after we'd been to night moves along with another 150 to see a fairly new band from Ireland called U2. They were phenomenal and clearly better than us at playing, performance, patter and writing songs. D'Ork asked me why I couldn't sing like Bono, I just laughed and said " Cos ah Cannae". I think he could see he needed to find a better band.
Treatment for cancer often pushes your body to limits you never knew you had. I'm nowhere near the levels I have witnessed but I know they exist. A bit like music I saw some hugely talented people perform and suffering from pretending too much did eventually take a bow. Some people's journeys are so brutal and it's a measure of them, their families and the huge team at the Western they make it the distance they do.
To return to the band from Ireland one of our pals, Deirdre Featherstone, from Ireland was kicking the shite out of Cancer.com in her blog a few years ago and proceeded to take many co-survivors into the sea, at the nuns beach in Wicklow. Jackie would join them some years and one year they set a world record for the biggest skinny dip. They even appeared on Ireland's got talent with a big reveal at the end, raising over €million for charity along the way. All these women and many more had stories and the scars to prove it. I found it overwhelming and so inspiring. As I sat in the hotel chuntering away, the only thing I kept returning to was, Sisters really were doing it for themselves. It was raising a tear every moment I was in their company. They were living and I was so aware of what living meant as I sat thinking, as one of only 3 men, in the 500+ throng it was time to disappear. It left a mark that I'm proud to recall every time I need a tear. Thanks Deirdre it makes my wee journey a cakewalk.
I've mentioned Scott Miller and his run for McMillan a few times, I can't praise their work enough, it's amazing. He's prepared for most of the year and his journey ends next weekend. Good luck Scott.
It's a straight trade off sometimes between getting the pesky cancerous blinders out of your system and killing you in the process. Over the years these superstar oncologists have transformed the goalposts and the longer I'm inside the ropes the more I want to learn.
There's no doubt that Edinburgh punches well on the world stage never mind the UK and I've met staff and patients from around the country who clearly came here for the work or care. The gravitational pull must be huge for staff as the work is really valued..for patients it's pretty simple, a daily 2 hour drive is fine.
Last week I found out I was dehydrated and also that I was letting my weight drop marginally. I know my breathing's rotten but apart from that it's only my alcoholism that gets in the way of a good liver I'm hoping. Drink has always been my pain management so I've never used paracetamol much at all. Quite ironic how prissy I was about not taking pills after I was 25. I had no problem with beer and wine but no Pernod or pills. Bizarre really, but just another box in my spaghetti head. There are many empty boxes in my spaghetti head. It's a left handed trait. You learn things right handed so the empty box you have left, sits there waiting to process something but, nada, nothing ever enters. One day you turn the kettle and lift it with your left hand, ooh, that felt good and suddenly the box has an item.
Our designers choose for men and women to button up differently. How bizarre. Why would you do that? Seems like a great nonsense tale from the 17th century will follow about a machevellian tailor trying to elevate themselves from the more competent seamstress by switching the buttons around andtelling the Prince it's the latest thing from Italy M'Lord.
I'll park my spaghetti head there though, or at least drain some fluid off. I just received a wonderful picture of a cake from Rosie. It made me think about eating. This was a cracking cake for a budding 5 year old paleontologist.
I found it tough to eat Saturday and Sunday was easier. I tried to eat a kiwi fruit on Saturday after my many breakfasts and that's when I realised how ulcers could feel. With the jaw ever tightening my food options felt like they were narrowing fast.
That's when I decided golf could be the answer so Sunday saw me join the gang and get out for air. It was superb. I walked to the club and back, took a buggy round and as everyone will tell you the endorphins that get released when you're in good company are energising. I notice now how many of us have tea or coffee after, now I'm on 8 pints water not lager. I polished off my piece, aka some cheesecake, creme caramel and followed it with a bowl of soup. While opening my mouth is getting tougher I was happy to see the ulcers less irritable.
Tonight's tea would take me under 90 minutes. I opened my second 2k shake and should finish it with my 4am breakfast.
All done I've no idea how I'm doing but when the bloods get done tomorrow they'll be different for sure from last week. I feel both more energetic today and happy. To me, it shows in my wee spaghetti world how much of a rollercoaster all aspects of the cancer Camino are.
I made up a game board using the normal concept of boxes that you navigate using a set of dice. I love the idea of rolling an 8 and landing on the box marked, you've done well, go straight to week 4. Unfortunately a 7 has your ulcers are really sore, miss a turn. Rolling an 11 sounds good but when I saw that box I did squirm. Blood test results reveal dehydration, go back 4 spaces. Next thing you get the ulcers again.
Luckily I don't know enough about how far my mouth should be opening after week two, but I am aware it's less than it was. I find in general any analysis that I do is unwise almost foolhardy. From the word go I've just tried to be in the moment of making myself the best I can be for the professionals to perform their work on. If I can present a reasonable specimen it gives them the best chance of a decent outcome. Judging by the cast who I sit in waiting rooms with, it's a given.
Head down and week 3 starts tomorrow, anybody know a good singer?
You can't just shout Pearl at the screen, this is a blog ya daftie.
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