Tuesday, January 21, 2014

STOP SHOUTING AT ME

I'm doing the blog OK?

So where to start?  Let's start with today and then work backwards. Please bear in mind that even the last hour is beginning to fade in my mind so that by the time we get to the day before yesterday I will pretty much just be making it all up.

So Tuesday, 21/01/14.  Had tea with the ever lovely Ev, Manchester Mum & Dad and DD at Duttons.  Well when I say "tea" what I mean is they all had those ludicrous plate pyramids piled high with cakes and sandwiches and stuff plus a glass of bubbly whilst I had a cup of coffee.  I think it's fair to say that Duttons produce a "robust" high tea.  The sandwiches were of a size that could easily have qualified them to act as doorstops.  The rock cakes could have been used by ships as an anchor and after all that they couldn't even finish the brownies and the bakewells.  But the company was good and the food very tasty apparently, if robust.

Otherwise it has been a quiet day.  Had a long conversation with Macmillan about what they're doing wrong and a rather shorter conversation with Jaguar about what is happening to my bloody car.  Looks like we're back to the blue model now but he seems a little more hesitant as to whether I will get the car by Friday. I will phone him and hassle him again tomorrow.

Monday, 20/01/14. Spent most of the day at The Christie.  And I mean that literally. From 0730 to 1530.  Mix up at the booking in stage as to whether I'd had all the required blood tests before Monday to allow Monday's procedures to go ahead.  Booking in person wasn't so sure whereas me and DD were. We sat around for an hour whilst this was sorted out.  Of course we were correct so we got transferred to the day surgical unit where we sat around a bit more and had everything explained to us. From there it was down to the CT department for the CT guided biopsy.  We had everything explained to us and then I had a regular CT scan followed by another one where I had to lie on my front and they fixed a bit of wire to my back.  They do this because the wire shows up on the scan and they can then measure the scan to judge the distance from the wire to the tumour. They then replicate this measure on my back so they can be sure they're getting the right stuff.  Having done all the measurements they then inject a local anaesthetic (which stings quite a bit) before plunging a needle into my back and chopping off bits of tumour.  They took 5 chunks because, apparently, chunks 2, 3 and 4 weren't of the required quality.  How they can tell is anyone's guess.  But chunks 1 and 5 were quality chunks and so we were good to go.  It was then back to the day surgical unit for blood pressure etc checks and then I had to wait around (DD had gone shopping by this stage) for 2 hours before having an X Ray (presumably to check I wasn't bleeding to death internally). Having checked that I then telephoned my chauffeuse and was picked up and dropped home.  On arrival home I saw a letter from The Christie calling me in for a CT scan on Wednesday (tomorrow)!  Phoned them up and they said it had been cancelled.  It's almost as if the right hand doesn't realise there's a left hand and that they both work with the same patient.

DD called around later for the Coronation Street episodes.  Very moving I thought but ultimately a little unsatisfactory. I'm guessing they had to be quite circumspect about what they showed and how much explanation they gave because both episodes were pre-watershed.  But I think they should do a separate hour long special looking at the whole issue of illness and suicide and quite how one manages a completely painless and calm suicide. And they should show it post-watershed so they can treat their audience like adults.  But that's my only criticism. I thought the writing and acting and the whole handling of the issue was done brilliantly.

DD and I had decided that since it had been a long day with an early start we'd both fancy an early night so we were aiming to be done and dusted and off to bed by 2130. At 0030 the following morning however...we were still awake and I was throwing up (as you'll have seen from last night's blog) whilst Denise was doing the washing up (thank you).  But at least we'd managed to plan our day trip to London on 20/02/14 and our visit to Harrods to purchase our wedding outfits (we want to make sure no one else will be wearing what we do). Yay.

Sunday 19/01/14.  Sunday Sunday, so good to me.... Sunday. What happened Sunday?  Ah yes, nothing much. DD was stil away on her hen weekend leaving me all alone to do as I pleased.  And it pleased me to do nothing much. At least it did for most of the morning and then I started reading some Macmillan papers ahead of a meeting I have tomorrow (straight from The Christie into a Macmillan meeting) and I ended up getting all worked up and angry and annoyed so started firing off emails to all and sundry about how the whole Project is just paying lip service to the inclusion of PABCs (People Affected By Cancer) and they really need to get their act together etc etc.  It's clearly hit home with some people so fingers crossed things might start to improve (?). Watch this space.

Saturday 18/01/14.  Saturday night was a fabulous night out with the lovely Lesley in Eccles (in films this is the point where you get the sound effect of car tyres squealing to a halt)... Yes, dear readers, we parked in the Morrisons car park.  Yes, dear readers we eschewed the "vegetarian option" (we never did find out what it was) on the basis of the evidence we saw of the Hot Pot. Yes, dear readers, we did leave a little early before the raffle was called (so many prizes) and before the entertainment was over (we did however watch the Salford Seranaders - I think that's what they were called, Lesley may correct me in comments - and a barbershop quartet - average age 105). But we didn't leave before wishing Jim a very happy 65th, catching up with Pama and Geoff and meeting various former members of the Inland Revenue who, I think, may have retired from the Department before I was born. We also met up with Lizzie and Gordon.  Gordon I haven't seen for a few months but Lizzie I haven't seen for a few years.  We're both a lot slimmer than we were (me from illness and her from just being fabulous) and have vowed to catch up soon whilst she is between international engagements (I now have her phone number and shall call her next week). Also, drum rolls please, I was told that I was looking "very handsome" by a man. Yes, a man.  A gay man.  Honestly readers I can't remember the last time that happened.  I am very happy about being very handsome.  I may have to marry that man just so that he can repeat those words to me every morning.....

Friday 17/01/14 & Thursday 16/01/14. These two days have become conjoined in my (rapidly vanishing) memory because they were, of course, spent in the company of Madame La T.  Yes verily dear readers did she descend upon Manchester. But I had been sworn to secrecy. She was on a top secret mission. This is a woman who can put the Ha! Into Mata Hari. My life would have been forfeit had I breathed a word of her arrival before she surprised her friend at a leaving do. But now I can reveal that she stayed two nights with me and a spiffingly good time was had by all. From memory I'm guessing that we talked, we ate food and drank spirits. We probably walked a bit. I do remember that I loaded her car up with carrier after carrier of designer gear ready for sale in far flung countries to benefit people like Mrs M Misery Knickers. I'm sure we did stuff but my head is empty. As empty as a bendy bus on the streets of Swansea. So I apologise dear readers that I cannot give you more scurrilous gossip and rumour since there is bound to be some.  Perhaps some of my friends can fill in the gaps in comments?  Thank you friends.

And remember, don't shoot the author (nor indeed shout at him). That's all for now, early start (again) tomorrow.... Good night. J x

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