I'd thought I could do this a bit more justice but it's just a pretty tough grind. I'm filling up with fluids and letting my body do the rest, except it's doing nothing. After zero alcohol for so long could a 0.5% beer really do this?
Mouth Olympics can fill the gaps until the next you tube song starts.
To be honest, Sunday's just a bed day. Try and feed but it's empty. Tried to get interested in the TV or football but there's nothing at all in the tank. It's not even fumes. It's a bad post apocalypse movie and the burnt out cars are piled up. The Penny Drops as the mushroom rises. In Camino Frances terms, I've hardly left the restaurant in St Gien pied du Porte and already I'm hunkered up in Pamplona on day 6. Pamplona would normally be day 3.
Pamplona is quite an apt analogy. In 2007 Simon and I arrived there exhausted. Our adrenaline had seen us over the Pyrenees but like my current predicament adrenaline can only get you so far. We were in a mess by the time we found a hotel at a price we were happy to pay. With hindsight we paid £90 instead of £140. We spent an extra bedraggled hour searching for the bargain. It was the same night James McFadden would score against France as we won 1-0.
Simon was asleep on the bed I was still watching it with blackberry in hand betting on 1-0. It was 17 years ago and not far off today's date. I look back at www.500m.wordpress.com the first blog with huge affection. It proved the latest twist in my re-invention.
We'd given up smoking, Simon, Paul P and I in 2005. We did 9 months and the plan was to start again but I never did. I still miss it but unlike the other two, found my lungs happy for the respite. Our way had been planned to lose the weight we inevitably put on from this brief smoking respite.
I learned a bit about fuel from the blog that September. Simon mentioned regularly how I needed a jump start in the mornings but one day I discovered donuts. Clearly the fuel was fast release sugars as well as the sustenance a few donuts gave to the harder miles. I feel a visit to Fisher and Donaldson for some fudge donuts this afternoon.
Not before time as I'm losing the battle today. Ground will be lost on the weight for sure as I just can't take anything on board. I'm trying the yoghurt and peaches, avocado etc but even the wee 2k shoots are like lead.
Finally managed a double Weetabix at 9pm but it seems to be coming out faster than it's going in now. Clearly I'm easily befuddled. I'm not, it's just a few self absorbed tough yards on the journey.
6am and more Weetabix but the weight damage is done. I'm half a stone down again. The weight fluctuations are myriad but 15/13 is new to me. I was 17/3 after the overnight flushing last Tuesday so it's normal, but I just need to get back to 16/2. Saturday I was 16/6 but it is just what it is.
I hope the wee bit air on the way to radiotherapy today helps. It's Monday, 2pm and time for more.
After radiotherapy it was bloods and water bubble tube change. Another new set of nurses with a 3rd year trainee working towards her frequent flyer taking the lead. I also had a mouth inspection so I need to do more gargling before these ulcers become ulcers.
The mouth is now officially sore. It just feels like a strep throat but as that was day 6/30 I would imagine it's only 3 more sessions and I'm a wee screaming bairn. More gargling and teeth support.
When in doubt resort to a cheese sandwich. Followed by ice cream and more diluted 2k shots. Then pasta then Wrexham at Birmingham, then mouth guards with toothpaste, then sleep. Then Weetabix at 5am and more juice.
It's all there is in the tank. Keep eating and drinking..food is fuel, we know it and without it we feel leggy and tired.
I feel repetition might get me to realise but sadly no. I'm just writing not eating.
It's clearly time for the donuts. I can't possibly ask someone to carry me through the rest of this.
Today is now Tuesday, my 7th session with the radiotherapy and I still laugh at the success Caitlin had in making this whole experience not just tolerable but enjoyable. I keep forgetting to take my hearing aids out or switch my alarm off but that aside I'm loving the whole acting gig I might get as an extra the other side of 2024.
I know it's crazy how quickly a selfie could transform such a scary moment into one of such joy, but somehow it did.
So much was straight from the breathing that Caitlin's Alexander technique teacher told me and the rest is just the stuff of fantasy.
I can't wait to put the mask on with the nappy as we get the band back together for a 45 years on. Not sure there'll be an audience for it but "Fall from Grace" has a certain piquancy now and "Watch you Grow" has cancer catchy tune written all over it.
When I was listening to "Spellbound" the other day I was reminded just how that song and sound shaped our later years. Lots of intricate guitar, bit of driving drums and cavernous cacophony until it's breaks into a delicate dance where you're picking flowers from the air, casting them to the corners of the room and generally enjoying the space time continuum.
As well as getting the band back together I feel it's time to do "The T'uther Ones", a gentle 6 song tribute act playing some of the finest pieces I've ever heard, including, "Another Girl, Another Planet".
Judging by my energy levels there's a fair chance a four song set will suffice, or perhaps just a Peel session.
It must be moving towards my 14:15 so I better jump aboard. All that nonsense of walking everyday seems a good week ago. I've got the mental image, I just need the Donuts.
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