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Seeing the World

Life has served up a fantastic opportunity to travel

A Year Since Slovenia

Facebook reminds me that it’s a year since my favourite solo trip as a traveller with cancer.  Luton to Ljubjana, the capital city of Slovenia.  I’d heard of Luton.  Ljublana was a mystery to me to the point that I’d never known of the existence of the place.

I’ve probably never felt more at home in my own company.  Never happier walking into a riverside bar for a beer, or ordering an ice cream on the pedestrianised streets.  Ljublana is a place that just seemed to ooze warmth and welcome.  And I loved it.  Lake Bled too (if you have Virgin Media still images often appear).  A wonderful walk in the shadow of the Alps, an hour or so bus ride from the capital.  And while I only had a few nights in the country, and saw only small glimpses of it, the memories remain with me.  Even the dodgy fruity beers they seem to like!

It’s also a health comparator point for me.  Yes, my medication back then made me spotty.  But it was keeping me healthy in the active physical way.  I walked miles every day, exploring quaint buildings, circling that lake, smelling the spring mountain air and reaching the heights of the castle that sits high above the beautiful capital city.

Today I can achieve few of these things after the cancer damaged my bones further as the medication failed.  While that’s sad, knowing I grasped the opportunity to do stuff while my health allowed is a reward I’ll cherish while I live.  With a slight frustration that I almost certainly won’t go back.

I made it home from Anglesey.  That too is a regular reminder of decline.  I struggled more to secure the hot tub.  Tidying up after myself was slow and tough too.  I could feel a difference to previous visits.  Perhaps chemotherapy fall out.  At least I achieved the evening drive home without fall out too!

But today I’ll recall Slovenia.  It is beautiful.  It seemed happy.  It was certainly pleasant,  I couldn’t recommend a destination more.

Stranded!

It may only be for a few hours, but exiting Anglesey right now is a high risk strategy. I had planned on an evening departure.  But circumstances have put the hot tub out of bounds and I have aspirations to depart early.

Chemotherapy has caused constipation, again.  The laxative dose is up to three sachets a day.  The much welcome relief, alas, has been a little too keen.  At present I’m hopping backwards and forwards between the gents and the shower.  The three hour drive home looks an optimistic challenge, despite a hospital appointment tomorrow.

It isn’t meant to be like this.  The painkillers that had previously caused a similar problem aren’t currently in use.  It’s a cruel twist that chemotherapy has replaced them as a cause of severe discomfort.  Crueller too that my hot tub desires have to be curtailed just in case there’s an accident as a result of a supposedly simple treatment to deal with the condition.

Granted, most reading this probably don’t want a full match report.  But if you, relatives or friends ever find yourselves with a similar problem my sympathy is right there with you.  Along with an emergency towel for sitting on just in case.  No H in “sitting” as yet.  The three sachet dose gives me time to reach nearby facilities …

Glad I held back from the eight sachets a day suggestion online.  That would have been a disaster I’d never recover from!

 

The Grey Chest Hair

Lying there in the hot tub.  Almost asleep in the warm waters.  Suddenly a shock.

I have a moderately hairy chest.  Makes up for the bald dome of a head of course.  But yesterday, as I was continuing to feel a bit useless in the aftermath of chemotherapy, came horror.

I might be facing certain death from a lung cancer that mysteriously took over my non-smoker body.  My face may be lopsided from the cruelty of Bell’s palsy.

But this horror was a pure vanity I never knew I had.  I discovered a grey chest hair. I did a double take when I first spotted it.  Indeed, it temporarily disappeared into its surroundings.  But as I looked closely the harsh truth was confirmed.  A single length of silvery hair mixed into my normal brown follicles was distorting my look.

Not that I’ve ever really considered myself as having a “look”, especially when exposed to the world in nothing more than swimming shorts.

But it appears I’m a man over fifty with grey hair.  Singular.  For now.  It feels strange.  Maybe it’s a small win over the cancer. “I will look old whether you let me get old or not”.  I’ll take the win.  Because I feel pretty rubbish right now as a result of the treatment.

Support Roy Castle Lung Cancer Foundation. They’ve supported me.

 

It’s a Beautifully Private Location

There is little doubt I like this place.  It’s the last property on a small development.

Lambs feeding on a ewe greeted me this morning.  Their tails wagging wildly as they gained access to milk.

The hot tub too.  My space.  My domain.  And then she appeared.  A lady, perhaps in her seventies knocking on the door.  I pondered submerging but realised breathing would be a problem.  The lady was here for a natter with a bloke she’d never seen before.  Admiringly she said “you’re a bit of a boy” as my shorts covered body revealed way too much flesh.

I have no idea what we spoke about.  Deafness and water noise limited the conversation.  I didn’t even catch her name when she shared it.

And while it was all harmless, it was a little reminder to make sure I stay decent while enjoying these facilities.  There are standards I need to keep now that I know I’m under observation!

Roy Castle Lung Cancer Foundation: Please give generously

 

Like a Small Wet Towel in my Good Ear

My right ear is deaf.  As I entered Wetherspoons for an exciting morning date (well, catch up and travel chat with Claire, a friend) my left ear decided to generate its own bubble to make hearing in the left ear bloody difficult.  Squelching noises, the ability to hear my own breathing very loudly.  Difficultly hearing conversation amid the background noise.

Still, we had a good time over eggs benedict, full English, pancakes and refillable coffee.

The main subject of conversation was Claire’s trip planning to South West USA.  She’s already well along the outline planning route but wanted to tap my knowledge of the area.  Three visits, plus Yellowstone, including my last ever departure from the UK last September.

It’s amazing how much I enjoy talking about those trips.  Mistakes made driving too far in a day.  Doing Yosemite was too quickly.  But also the love of the open road, the geological marvels that open up before you as you drive.  And places that you just have to see, such as the Colorado River bend in the photo.

Matt my eldest next.  New home.  Lovely dog.  And cheap petrol at the local Tesco making it a value for money visit.  109.9p a litre!  It’s always good to see my step kids and I’m proud of them both as they work their way through life.

Then the drive to Anglesey.  Tough going.  Music and two nearly deaf ears, doesn’t really work.  Abba seemed to cut through ok.  Clapton less so.  Eventually I reached destination via some mediocre traffic and discovered that either the Easter Bunny or my sister had been in earlier to refresh the place after my last visit.

Still my ear bubbled internally.  Almost intolerably.  It took sleep for it to go away and I didn’t get much of that.  Chemotherapy side effect?  Too much bladder weakness?  Several visits in the night flushing out the chemicals they’ve pumped into me and my kidneys.  But it’s early and I’m tired, but can’t sleep.

Hopefully more hot tub time later will help relax me more.

Please support my Roy Castle Lung Cancer Foundation appeal

Nobody’s Playing Out! Back to Anglesey Then …

Weekend is nearly upon us.  Driving in the aftermath of chemo session one was a big no.  Session two, doable but only risking short distances.  Today I’m feeling ok, and circumstances encourage a challenge.

Rachel has a mix of family arrangements and social life.  Chris is due back from his Isle of Skye let’s see the Aurora trip (his picture attached of the STEVE phenomenon) while doing a degree tomorrow.  And his transport is taking him to Liverpool.  And Oldham Athletic aren’t playing due to international call ups for the mighty Walsall.

Which leaves me at a potentially loose end.  Next medical appointment is Tuesday.   I’m capable of driving.  Suddenly an opportunity opens up.  Granted, it’s not USA, Chile or Slovenia.  But it’s good.

A breakfast meeting in Oldham.  Nip into Tesco for food and petrol.  Then onto Horwich to see Matt’s (eldest) new gaff which he’s been in for far too long without me popping in.  Then a Friday afternoon-Monday afternoon stay at my sister’s hot tub enabled Anglesey hideaway.

Bacon, eggs, milk, orange juice, bread, ham, butter.  Perhaps a couple of Ginsters for evening.  Then relaxation with views of sheep and countryside.

Hopefully the hot water will ease away the aches and pains.  Hopefully the aches and pains won’t inhibit me accessing the hot tub.  I’m looking forward to he change.

123 donations received exceeding £3,000 for Roy Cancer Lung Cancer Foundation.

The X-ray Shadow In My Right Lung Shocked Me This Week

Having had a couple of days to ponder it, the growth of the cancer in my right lung is a big shock.

Because it has remained stable so long, I think I’d assumed that it wouldn’t spread within the source area.  It was quite happy attacking my back, pelvis and hips.  I didn’t expect it to return stronger where it started.  I’d resigned myself to the hasty tumour they zapped with radiotherapy being what would return to kill me.  I suppose it still might.

In fairness, it’s possible that the sharp pain I’d felt in my upper back three weeks or so ago was a symptom.  That X-ray showed no bone damage though.  And wasn’t your typical lung X-ray.

Of course, within hours of having seen images of the cancer growth I seem to have developed a feeble cough and a minor pain in the area at the top of the right lung.  They’re probably real symptoms.  But how odd that they appear weeks after the growth has been present.

My layman concern is that chemotherapy doesn’t appear to be holding back the growth in the lung.  That said, I can now lie on my left side so presumably the bone damage is improving there.  Not on the right side though.  That’s wrecked.  That hurts!

So where do we go from here?  CT scan.  That decides whether chemo continues.  That identifies potential biopsy targets for drug trial people to go for.  If they want to.  It might leave me between a rock and a hard place where I get no cancer fighting treatment at all.  Game up.  I still don’t feel ready for that.  Perhaps I never will.

Its just strange to feel better in some ways yet see and feel evidence of decline in other areas.  They say “fight it”.  I can still try to live a little.  But there’s naff all I can do to stop it in its tracks.

Roy Castle Lung Cancer Centre has provided me with invaluable support. Please make a donation to them. Thank you.

Exciting Purchase as Chemotherapy Knackers My Eyesight

The good news is that when I put my driving glasses on I can read nearby number plates.  I’ve assumed that makes me ok to drive..

But reading is a problem.  I told Rachel I “felt on” last night on Whatsapp.  That confused the poor girl who thought I was doing some sort of roofing job.  “felt ok ” was what I’d meant to type.  Saturday’s football I clearly saw five minutes injury time announced on the fourth official’s electronic board.  I wasn’t wearing glasses and covering a frozen right cornea.  The rest of the stadium saw eleven minutes indicated.  My departure at that point probably save a hypothermia hospital admission.

Ive taken dramatic action to resolve this sight issue.  Eye tests are best delayed until the treatment is complete.  So I’ve gone mad with a £2.38 Amazon spend.  I’ve ordered a rather ungainly looking magnifying glass which will hopefully arrive in the next couple of days.  There are sexier looking £11.99 options.  But who needs sexy in a magnifying glass?

In the meantime, if there are any awkward typos in the blog, tough!

Assist a poor blind man’s efforts to raise money for the Roy Castle Lung Cancer Foundation!

The Audiologist

Eighteen months since Bell’s palsy hit.  Ten months since it deafened my right ear.  Four months since I decided to seek out a specialist.  Five weeks since I was referred to the audiologist I saw today.

His job was to sit me in a booth, play some beeping noises to me and record the results.  I’ve no idea how deaf I am.  I now have to wait for another appointment.  Presumably then I’ll be told if anything can be done.  A hearing aid is presumably about the limit of medical science in my case.

Ive no idea how well I’ve done.  Vague high pitched noise still warranted me pressing the button to say I could hear it.  Whether it was meant to be vague or not I really don’t know.

But I would like my hearing back before I drop.  As well as a straight face!  It’s just nobody seems to be in any sort of rush to progress anything.

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