Seeing the World

Well the expensive American Express card came into its own with free lounge access. Manchester’s Aspire lounge in terminal one is a thing of beauty. And I got the last bacon sandwich along with various other pastries and a bag of pretzels slipped in to my hand luggage.

As flights go that was beautiful from Icelandair.

No issues with checking in after their online failure the day before and by getting row 7 the leg room was magnificent. It looks like any of the first 15 rows are set aside for “economy comfort” and nobody buys it. I assume behind row 15 is the standard airline offering of economy discomfort.

While food and alcohol is chargeable hot drinks and soft drinks aren’t. And a second drinks service was volunteered despite flight time being marginally over two hours was great.

In flight entertainment at every seat. Wifi for €7. In flight magazine worth reading. British Airways in the UK and Europe really don’t have anything positive by comparison.

Baggage collection was fine. Then the horrendously long queue for car hire collection. I’ve never seen anything like it, so I walked past the queue to the Avis Preferred desk (the best free priority service I’ve ever signed up to) and within two minutes I walked away with the keys to a brand new Toyota Yaris with 7km on the clock!

Half hour drive to the hotel, passing the Blue Lagoon. An easy check in, comfortable room and Netto next door which may offer cheaper food options than surrounding restaurants.

Tomorrow may well be the biggie. A lot of driving but The Golden Circle has some fantastic natural phenomena. Can’t wait!

Online Check-in Unsuccessful

Well that’s a message I didn’t expect!  24 hours to departure and I’m unable to check in online.

There’s a simple “go to airport” message on the screen and when I’ve rung a nice lady at Icelandair she’s confirmed that she can’t see a problem and to resolve it at the airport tomorrow morning.

So all is relaxed at their end.

Me?  Panic mode.  I have a contingency plan in place so if Icelandair have overbooked and don’t offer an  alternative I’m redeeming Avios to get to Heathrow and redeeming more Avios to get from Heathrow to Iceland.  If there’s no Avios availability tomorrow morning (there is at the moment) there are sensibly timed later flights from Scotland and the South East.

In reality Icelandair should sort me out.  99.9% certainly fulfilling the flight I’ve paid for.  Or rerouting me at their expense.  What I now have is knowledge of some back up options that I can either suggest to the airline or, if the airline don’t play ball, organise for myself.

My best guess as to what the problem is centres around seat selection.  I changed it this morning while checking in, utilising the online seat map provided.  According to Seatguru my preferred seat doesn’t exist.  Computer confused and I’m into a Saturday morning manual workaround process instead.

Garden Leave

Wednesday saw me move into the final stage of employment.  I’m now in a three month notice period before I’m made compulsorily redundant at the end of May.

Redundancy has been a word that has struck the fear of God into me previously.  As the banking sector has shrunk over the last nine years I’ve been through a ridiculous number of restructures which have followed a process of fill in a form stating how marvellous I am, preference for what roles remain and hope I survive.

While I think there were a few mighty close scrapes along the way I managed to cling on until April last year.  Panic commenced as I started applying for dozens of internal vacancies in a desperate bid to remain employed.  I finally got a good match, albeit a grade lower and only covering somebody’s maternity leave for a year, but it preserved my salary and meant I could apply for jobs within the firm as the year drew to an end.

Then the shock of the cancer diagnosis came.  And while I still had the instinct to work I realised I had this very limited time to travel in.  Suddenly the much feared redundancy, with its substantial pay off (rather justifying the value of being a trade union member), became valuable to me rather than being a burden.

I also realised that if I’ve only got a few months to live then returning to work until the end of May was going to eat significantly into the travel opportunity.  But I didn’t feel that I could get out and book trips while sat at home on a sick note.  Garden leave is, I believe, usually reserved for those who might take company secrets elsewhere, so it’s better to keep them away from the office.  I made enquiries about eligibility and thanks to the human side of the company it was agreed.  And I couldn’t be more grateful.

Emotionally it was liberating because I felt I could freely book trips without feeling that I should be in work.  Indeed, I even booked trips while on a sick note in February because a commitment to work had been lifted.  Equally it was a really sad moment.  Over thirty years of what I do and working with great people had stopped quite suddenly.  While I’d had an eye on getting out at some point in the next few years this was much earlier than I’d have wanted in ordinary circumstances.  But these circumstances are anything but ordinary.

One thing I can be sure of.  I won’t be spending any of my garden leave nurturing the plants and mowing the lawn.  There’s a big wide world to see.

Is Cannabis a Cure For Cancer?

There are numerous stories online that it does.  Equally compelling are other stories that suggest smoking pot massively increases the risk of cancer in the young.

Indeed, utilising Google with “can cannabis cure cancer” and “can cannabis cause cancer” will provide dramatically contradictory results.

What does seem likely is that there haven’t been hundreds of eminent scientists utilising wacky backy as a serious part of research and development of new cancer treating drugs.  Mainly because in most countries they’d be breaking the law to do so.  Which is probably a shame.

The most interesting reports seem to be around the mixing of extra virgin coconut oil and cannabis to deliver unexpected cures.  But the internet is full of one tale repeated in different places type stories and verifying cause and effect is frankly impossible.

While I’ve never done illegal drugs I have pounced on the coconut oil thing and have been optimistically throwing them down my throat for weeks as apparently it assists the body respond to nasty cancers.  Today I’ve read that action is going to create a big cholesterol problem.

Who knows what the truth is?  My gut reaction is that cannabis curing cancer is an urban myth.  But if I’m beginning to fade away and an appropriately mixed chocolate brownie appears in front of me, why the hell not!

I’ve Had My First Class Experience Upgraded – Sort Of

One of the first things I did, once the shock of being diagnosed with terminal lung cancer had sunk in, was look at my Avios account and work out where I could get to first class.  After all, these points have a value that dies with the holder!

Despite having paid for my step-daughter’s business class honeymoon flight to New York, I still had a decent wedge of points left to use.  And after ruling out Dubai, New York, Washington and Philadelphia as destinations I settled on Boston with the idea of a New England driving holiday with Chris.

Now I’m more than happy with business class flights long haul and see them as a treat.  But I’d decided to burn every mile I had so opted for first class.  Once in a lifetime and all that.  Maybe I’ll model my “all inclusive” British Airways pyjamas after the flight!

British Airways is fully deserving of its London Airways nickname.  While Branson’s mob will happily fly me from Manchester to Boston (and their posh seats are dirt cheap at the moment for doing just that) BA insist on shuttling me down to Heathrow before getting on a proper plane, with dubiously named “first class suites” taking us across the pond.  Suite is the word that’s pushing it.

The Manchester to London flights were a one class affair that resembles Ryanair without the stag party on board.  At the turn of the year BA even scrapped the free drinks and half a bag of crisps service forcing customers to buy an overpriced cuppa and some M&S Percy Pigs or an M&S sandwich if they fancied a nibble.  I’ll cope without thanks.

Anyway, despite allowing me to book seats for free on the transatlantic legs, BA see fit to charge £7 a pop for their first class passengers to sit where they want for a 35 minute flight from Manchester to London.  £28 to sit in pretty much identical seats to everywhere else on the plane across our two shorter flights?  No thanks, I’ll sort it out for free at check in.

An exciting email this morning tells me that BA have now turned their domestic flights into a two class service.  Positive news.  And as our ticket is first class we are being moved out of cattle class into the shiny “Club Europe” cabin.

Now this does appeal but … Club Europe is, bluntly, crap.  Ok, it’s better crap than I’d originally booked us to fly in but the seat has the same leg room.  There is an empty seat between you and the next passenger with a tray on it.  So you have a little more elbow room and somewhere to store your phone.  Not that BA have invested in the option of charging your phone on board.  Extra luggage allowance and getting on the plane first are already part of the booking.  As is lounge access.  At some point on each short flight we will get some free food instead of having to hand over cash.  I suspect food will consist of a few green leaves and a contrasting colour of squiggly sauce to make it look pretty. And that’s about it.

Oh, one other improvement.  I can now pre-book each seat for £16 a go.  What would have cost me £28 before is now £64.

I’m pleased to get the upgrade.  But it’s not exactly high quality flying.

One in Three Lung Cancer Sufferers Are Dead Within Ninety Days of Diagnosis

I’ve recently gone past three months since formal diagnosis.  Some readers may recall my musings Wondering How Close to Death I’ve Already Been.  The answer, it seems, is much closer than I ever realised.

This article brought to my attention by my sister highlights the difficulties GPs face in identifying the condition.

In my case it’s likely that my condition had spread to the bone before any medic could have diagnosed.  But if my first back pain had been sent down a different treatment path my subsequent lower spine agony and eventual destruction of the L4 vertebrae would have been avoided.

Whether or not a chunky investment in NHS scanning services is justified, I don’t know.  I do know that if my first back pain had been identified in April rather than November I’d have been treated sooner and avoided some pain.  In my case, maybe not a big difference.  For others, well a significant proportion of them are well and truly dead by now.

Space – The Final Front Ear

Yes, I know I said I was off to do something in Yorkshire today but the weather was iffy and I didn’t fancy the arty farty sculpture park.  Maybe another day.

Apparently the Yorkshire masses have declared Leicester as a part of Yorkshire since they discovered Dicky III buried in a car park there.  Apparently he was from the north’s secondary county.

After piling down a magnificent pub breakfast I hit the road mid morning and sauntered up the M1 pondering my options.  The National Space Centre in Leicester won the battle.  £3 to park, no standard parking spaces free but dozens of disabled ones.  £14 to get in.  Immediately I was struck by numerous men in suits.  It became evident that they’d packed the car park as a nice little earner from business conventions etc.

Next observation was that this is a place for school trips.  Dozens of kids in lines everywhere, occasionally released to see the exhibits.

And that was the first time I realised that this is just an exhibit.  It’s not the centre of the UK space programme, it’s more Millenium Dome with substance.

And I have to say that unlike the Done the exhibits are pretty damn good.  Lots of history of the universe, the planets, astronomy etc to put everything in context.  Interactive stuff.  Brian Cox eat your heart out.  But you also get space race stuff.  Real bits of space vessels.  How the Nazis got us so much closer to exploring space.  Tim Peake cardboard cut outs.  The Genesis program (and I don’t mean from the Star Trek movie) and so on.

I spent a couple of hours there.  Enjoyed it.  Probably best aimed at 11-15 year olds but the was certainly enough to keep me interested.  Ît’s a shame I couldn’t hang around for the Planetarium.

Home now.  Enjoying thinking about a good 24 hours.  Off out tonight with the work guys despite knowing I’ll never work with them again.

They Gave Me the Key to the Pub!

Hotel prices in and around Northampton last night were shockingly high.  Some chains were nudging the £200 mark and even the most basic mainstream accommodation was £90+.  Pent up demand from 197 Oldham Athletic fans at last night’s game?  I think not.

I had £63 of “free room” credit that wasn’t enough to buy me a decent space in any of the major players.  So I delved the secondary players on the hotels.com site and was reminded I should do this more often.

I ended up in a village called Crick.  22 minutes drive from the Sixfields stadium, the primary purpose of my visit.  Staying in a B&B room above a pub.  Although it feels slightly odd checking in at the bar, being handed the key to the room and also the front door to the pub quite amused me.  It’s a shame I need to avoid alcohol around drug taking time!

My room has everything a hotel room needs.  Bed.  Tv.  Tea and coffee facilities (and the obligatory insufficient amount of milk).  Large bathroom.  And most importantly, one of the comfiest beds I’ve ever slept in.  I’m yet to have it, but I’m confident my cooked breakfast included in the price will be great.  I’ll be eating that in front of an open fire!

I’ve ended up paying £12 for this place on top of “free night” credit.  While there was a little bar noise until 11.30pm it’s been worth every penny.  If I’d found a £39 room with a chain as I did in Swindon recently I’d have paid that.  But I think I’ll spend a little more effort seeking out this kind of place in future.

The football?  A terrific 2-1 away win with an injury time winner.  Perfect.

Daytime TV, an NHS Scan and Struggling to Get Out of the Bath

I’ve seen a lot of daytime TV recently, including this morning’s episode of Jeremy Kyle.  I didn’t actually see Holly’s show with Oldham born Philip, but there’s nothing wrong with finding an excuse for a gratuitous picture of Holly.

Anyway, off to Calderdale Hospital for a key CT scan to view how my cancer is hopefully regressing.  Get me past the Ashes before any nasty news please.

A nightmare to park at the hospital so I stuck the car on the seat with blue badge strategically placed to irritate any traffic wardens.  In to the building through a side door where I tried to use the germ killing hand wash.  Empty.  Repeated a further two times.  Wait for a case of galloping gangrene flying through that hospital!

An urgent visit to the gents.  I’d downed gallons of water to aid with the scan.  While washing my hands a gentleman exited one of the cubicles, walked straight past the sinks and into the corridor.  Yes, a building full of people with knackered immune systems and this chap can’t get bothered with a bit of soap and water.

Finding signs for “CT” was impossible.  In the end I headed to X-ray and asked there.  Good guess.  Same area of the hospital.  Despite being early they had a canular plugged into my arm pretty rapidly and within fifteen minutes I was lying on the scanner being asked to lower my trousers as the nurse placed a large tissue over my pelvic area.  In for a couple of scans.  Blue dye into the canular.  In and out of the scanner a couple more times.

When the nurse removed the canular blood squirted out of my arm at an alarming rate before she successfully stopped the flow.  Job done.  Off for lunch and then the two hour drive to Northampton.  Or, to be precise, Crick where I’ve booked a bed and breakfast for £12 with the help of a “free” room from hotels.com.

I checked in easily, headed up to my fabulous room and had a bath, utilising my prescribed emollient.  One of the side effects of my afatinib treatment is a rash that shows in the shape of my lungs and sternum, as well as my hips.  I assume this is where most of the cancer zapping takes place.

One thing I have noticed is that I’ve found getting out of the bath a little more complicated of late.  If there aren’t handles it’s become quite awkward.  I’m not sure if this is a sign of age, a weakness caused by the cancer or just fear of pain on my part after being in agony a few months back.  It’s a little worrying.

Tomorrow might see me cancel my plans to see the Yorksire Sculpture Park to do the National Space Museum instead.  Both are options.  Meanwhile I’m going to rest before heading to the big match.

Yorkshire