March 2025, Leg Ulcers Carry On, the Car and Wardrobes Don't

28 February 2025. My new computer has landed on my desk. Yikes Windows 11 seems to feel the need to push A.I. at me all the time whilst ensuring that lots of what I already had in the way of software will now refuse to work. I've managed to get my sound software back up and running at the expense of having to download a new version - but at least it allowed me to download it.

My photo-editing software now has to be run online and is totally different. A.S. (Artificial Stupidity) has been built in to assume that I want to start every session based on a template, most of which seem to be designed to appeal to 14 year olds who might not have the knowledge to decide for themselves what they want to do and can be easily diverted by flashing lights and bright colours. I just want to start with my own photograph and maybe adjust the perspective to avoid leaning buildings etc.

Resize doesn't allow that. Stretch only seems to keep the same proportions but adds bars of colour at either side or top and bottom... "Do you want A.I. to help? Would you like a template to make a poster?"... A.I. can't even equate "Ltd" with "Limited" for crying out loud...

6 March 2025. Agony day after the District Nurses yesterday. My right leg is now in a compression stocking over the dressing rather than bandages, which is good except that the slightest pressure on the now much thinner covering is excruciating. Pressure such as that caused by walking, resting, standing with the leg held out in mid air etc... (I don't do the latter a lot...)

The left leg, which was first and always the worst, looks miles better, but again doesn't necessarily feel like it. But a good sign for the future I hope. Note to anyone waiting for me to send CDs or DVDs - the new computer doesn't have a disk drive... should be sorted soon! It was sorted by setting up the old computer in the conservatory, hooked up to the TV as I didn't buy a new screen for the new PC. I've disabled all access to the Internet on the old machine so that any nasties can't get to it and Windows 10 won't be being updated anyway...

20 March 2025. Well today me and the memsahib clock up 49 years of married life. Happy Anniversary Miss Franny.

It's been a funny old few days. We are having new wardrobes fitted and the car refused to come off the drive to allow for the skip. S-I-L Eddie got new key batteries and tried again but it was the car battery that is defunct. Luckily our lovely neighbours allowed us to have the skip put on their drive. Wardrobe parts delivered yesterday afternoon much to the confusion of the driver who saw skip on wrong drive and wondered whether he had wrong address...

Meanwhile after the car sitting on the drive for more than a year, I've decided to get rid of it. I'm told I'll be carrying the cancer about indefinitely now and the legs also make driving a no-no at the present time. I'm over 70 now and have seen too many drivers of that age, who consider themselves fit for driving, make the most dangerous decisions or show a deteriorated ability to judge distances. Even my dear old Dad scared me on the last couple of occasions he drove me anywhere once he got over 70. And my current level of exhaustion means I'd be scared of falling asleep at the wheel.

Although there have been few signs to date that I would when I need to concentrate, I only need to stop concentrating for a few seconds and the next thing I find is that my eyes are closed and I'm sitting chin on chest at my desk or whilst watching TV. Not going to risk it!

The District Nurses on Monday referred me back to GP for leg swelling and I saw a GP (!!!) yesterday, resulting in another change of meds followed by more blood tests then booking to see him again in a couple of weeks.

The wardrobe fitters arrive tomorrow so hopefully we will have new flashy wardrobes by Friday evening. The old ones are shown above.

The new ones are shown here. It's the same TV which was perhaps a mistake as it may be HD but it's not a smart TV and I'd have loved a few more USB inputs if I'm honest. I might get round to it at some point... We gained some wardrobe space and shelf space and can now watch the TV from a remote Sky box.

30 March 2025. The leg ulcers seem to be getting better, in that areas are scabbing over and splitting into islands leaving more healthy new skin showing inbetween. But the pain meanwhile is just the same. I am now seeing the District Nurses twice a week in the surgery which is much better than the once weekly arrangement. I had another bad session last weekend with leaky wounds oozing out through bandages and the District Nurse command centre did send someone to the house.

She turned out not to be allowed to touch compression bandage so she just put a layer of cotton wool bandage on after cutting off the compression bandages and said someone else would come later the same day. This second nurse just put compression bandages on top of the cotton wool, leaving my legs looking as thick as tree trunks and very hot and painful. This prompted my usual nurse to say she would make two slots available at surgery for me each week.

Meanwhile I have seen a GP about the swelling and have more blood tests this coming week. I am now on two different diuretic pills daily and have started to notice the tightness slackening off a bit. That's all good. However, hobbling to the loo in time is an adventure! I'm reminded of my dear old Uncle David who used to develop medical products and who related this story....

'We had been to a conference and stopped on the motorway for a meal on the way back. There were a few of us. One of my mates said, "David, how do you know if your incontinence pants will hold up when you need to wee?"

'I said "Well the only way is just to wear them and test by letting go". So he did. In the queue at the counter. And they didn't...'

Family Memories: Personal Index

The Next Leg of Health Updates

Oof! I hope you can forgive the dreadful pun of the article title... But it helps to make fun of health problems I've found.

3 February 2025. "The garage door won't open!" said a crestfallen Miss Franny this morning. Daughter Gill was coming as they were both going down into Blackpool shopping or sunbathing, I'm not too sure. So Gill went for a look too. "We think it's the bar with the pull string at the top of the door," said Miss Franny. Strange because that only comes into play when you are closing not opening the door.

So I stagger to my feet, shuffle to garage door, give it a tug and feel resistance at the bottom of the door not the top. Look down and a big bit of gravel from the path sits there with folded arms as if to say "So what are *you* going to do about it???" Whack it away with my walking stick that's what. Door opens perfectly. The ladies in my family go "Oh..." and burst out laughing......... I hobble slowly and painfully back into the relative warmth of the house...

10 February 2025. Funny old week. The District Nurses keep telling me the legs are improving, though the one that started these leg problems required me to call out the out of hours emergency District Nurse service as something of a flood was making itself known late on Saturday night. The gunk that comes out of such wounds - a watery brown liquid - is referred to as "extrude". A couple of nights ago the extrude from my right leg had soaked it's way through the layers of bandages and was dripping, almost continually running, off my foot at regular intervals.

My descriptions were pooh-poohed when I phoned up the District Nurses Emergency line at Blackpool and I was indebted to my friend "C", herself a retired District Nurse, who not only gave good advice but who took up cudgels on my behalf and got someone to call round to mop me up and redress the leg.

It was my first inclination that different District Nurses have very different methods depending on where they are based. No attempt was made to wash the leg. The first nurse who came said she wasn't trained to do what was necessary and had to call an alternative. When the next nurse came it was simply redressed with a double layer of bandages and without any compression "Oh we don't do that from the hospital..." I lost most of Saturday night's sleep but last night was better than most nights where I am lucky to get more than three hours of sleep.

21 February 2025. Still ups and downs with the legs, though I (with the intervention of the District Nurses) have managed to persuade the doctor's surgery pharmacist to prescribe more powerful painkillers in the form of nerve pain pills and codeine pills to help keep the pain down to bearable levels for most of the time.

I've been sleeping better but that has a knock-on effect that the legs are pressured in just one position for longer periods at night which can lead to painful mornings. Eventually I had to deal with that by sleeping with my left leg out of bed, dangling down so that my foot could rest of a pile of pillows and cushions.

This week we took two buses out from home to town and then town to South Shore to the local Currys where I ordered a new PC as this one is creaking under the load and can't be upgraded to Windows 11. This entailed a lot of walking and a missed connection coming home which left me standing for half an hour opposite the wind coming off the sea at North Pier.

The following day was torture day at the District Nurses. She said "I can tell you've been walking a lot, your calf muscle has been working - that's good..." Anyway the right leg does look much better so that's good. As is the fact that my painkillers are now on repeat prescription.

The oncologists at Christies have pushed back the next MRI to April on the strength of needing blood tests. I have pushed the cancer totally to the back of my mind, which I've needed to do to cope with the pain from the legs. Growing old - not fun...

Family Memories: Personal

Health Updates January 2025

Sunday 5 January 2025. We have our annual visit of snow showers. We never get very much in the way of snow as we live too close to the sea, just outside Blackpool, so there's plenty of salt in the air. Just every now and then though...

Thursday 9 January 2025. Another in the occasional series "If it's going to happen it'll be at the worst time and in the worst way"...

So a bit of background. I take painkillers for the leg 4 times a day, 9:00am 3:00pm, 9:00pm, 3:00am. In order to facilitate the 3:00am one either my internal clock or pain wakens me somewhere around the right time. I leave the bedroom lamp on so I don't start having to grope about for stuff. All went well last night, until around 3:20 the call of nature got me painfully out of bed, with aid of walking stick and leaning on various items of furniture and walls to accomplish what needed to be accomplished.

Came back to bed reached out to deposit walking stick in its resting place between bed and chest of drawers. Crook of walking stick dips into glass of water still 1/2 full and knocks it over emptying contents over bed, pillows, floor, the double plug socket feeding the lamp and alarm clock...

I yelp. Miss Franny sits up fearful that I have hurt myself. We find that top of my bed and pillows are soaked through and have to find something else to lie against whilst after a brief and largely unsuccessful bout of mopping and towelling fails to dry bed.

A fresh towel is laid on top of wet bit of bed (hence the somewhat dimpled botty on getting up this morning... [photo sadly unavailable]) I spend the rest of the night sitting up in one of those reading pillows - we call it "Big Ted" as it's like sitting between the legs of a large teddy bear.

Manage to get to sleep sometime between 4:00-4:30am having unplugged all the electrics and set alarm on phone which thankfully managed to escape a drenching. Another day (or night) in the life... Sorry Miss Franny - did I mention she's an angel?

Wednesday 15 January 2025. Well, after my weekly visit to the District Nurses yesterday I now have both legs under compression, leading to a rather troubled night's sleep last night. Nurse pronounced herself pleased at the condition of my left leg (the one with the ulcer on the back). She pulled off a huge piece of dead skin - very painful, but needed doing. It was around 1/8 inch thick and 3 x 2 inches and so had to be torn off slowly bit by bit whilst I held my breath and tried to blank out the world. I was shaking by the time she stopped. She was going to leave the last 1/4 of an inch and cut across the 2 inch loose flap but I just said to pull it off.

For the sake of another two seconds it wasn't worth leaving any dead skin on. She said I was her only patient in pain that didn't complain. I'm not sure that complaining about it would achieve anything though. Whilst having all the dead skin off would definitely help it start to recover. So now doddering about with both legs giving me jip (gyp?). Thighs swollen and so solid I could probably bounce bullets off them... (I probably won't try...)

Thursday 30 January 2025. Since the de-sloughing two weeks ago (an older name for it was "flaying") I have had a lot of pain and not got out much. The wound on my right leg grew and with compression on both legs the swelling higher up from knee to naughty bits has been debilitating. For instance, sitting in my desk chair results in painful dents on either side where the chair arms dig in.

I saw someone re the swelling (an advanced practitioner - if you want to see an actual doctor you either have to know one personally or watch that year's Strictly Come Dancing - Chris McCausland's joke was spot on there...) and had blood tests and ECG and it seems the thyroid has flared up again. This caused me quite a few problems in the later 2000s and could be causing some similar recognisable symptoms now.

No news on the cancer but an MRI is due some time in Feb/March so am quite happy to push that to the back of my mind.

Family Memories: Personal Index

Artworks, 2025 Part 2

3 January 2026. Welcome to the second and final article showing my artwork over the previous year. 2025 was a difficult year in many ways, but in this second article we have to start with a stay in hospital. I had been suffering with some very painful leg ulcers for a year, a side effect so I was given to believe of my cancer which was still with me on my liver, but stable after an intensive course of radiotherapy at Christies hospital in Manchester in 2024.

I had had a fall on the stairs in early May 2025 after which I found I couldn't stand or walk. Five weeks in Blackpool's Victoria Hospital was followed by four weeks in respite at Clifton Hospital in Lytham St Annes, learning how to walk again. Whilst there I got Miss Franny to bring my smaller A5 sketchbook and used the only drawing tool I had - a ballpoint pen.

4 June 2025. Drawing from memory I found really hard. I don't like drawn art that is photographically realistic because I just don't see the point in it. If you want something so realistic just use a camera, but I've never just made up scenes before. So this is based on memory of more than one such meeting of streets in Italy and the island of La Palma in the Canaries, but I'd bet I'd never find an exact match!

11 June 2025. In 2023 we took a holiday up in the Trossachs and Highlands of Scotland. This was our hotel - the Loch Tummel Hotel - and I used the holiday brochure we had booked the holiday from to find a photo of the hotel. We were in a room around the right hand side as you look from this viewpoint.

16 June 2025. Another one from the brochure, although our particular holiday itinerary had not included Loch Lomond.

19 June 2025. I'd moved from Victoria Hospital to Clifton in St Annes. Not the easiest of places for Fran to get to for visiting but she did well thanks to good friends.

I wondered why nurses came into my room to look through the blind every night at 4:00am. It turned out that a family of foxes had their den between the two near trees on the right and came out at that time to play on the lawn. Which was unfortunately too low down for me to be able to see from my bed and getting out of bed was still not a thing to be contemplated.

23 June 2025. The Ward had a breakfast Club which met in the Day Room with this view of the garden. Patients could go out and sit there and have their meals in the Day Room which I did every day once I'd heard of it.

A nurse would transfer me via a sack truck type of affair into a wheelchair and I would sit with one chap who was suffering from Parkinsons and another, who would get up at all hours of the night wanting to come into the room for breakfast even at 3:00am, being convinced it was breakfast time, I dubbed us the Three Musketeers...

27 June 2025. I was progressing, from wheelchair to faltering steps using a zimmer frame and from that to crutches. The nurses were saying they could tell that my determination would carry me through. There were quite a few others who just gave up or who stopped at the first twinge of pain. I'd been in constant pain for almost a year and exhaustion since the first op on the cancer in August 2022. It wasn't going to beat me... The weather had turned nice and the three musketeers were accustomed to spend the entire day in the Day Room from getting up to going back to bed. This was loosely based on my memory of Livorno on the banks of Lake Garda in Italy.

2 July 2025. A Cotswolds scene, but don't ask me where it is... I was walking with just my trusty walking stick by now. Physio Therapists were having me climbing up and down a few stairs to see how I could cope and in this respect things seemed to be progressing well. It was quite an emotional time though. I was getting frustrated at being in hospital and at the same time humbled by what I was either being told or by what I overheard.

My friend with Parkinsons tended to dribble quite a bit and whenever I could I sat next to him with tissues at hand to help mop him up. He could also struggle to be understood and I often had to ask him to repeat something, whilst trying not to make a big thing about it which may have embarrassed him. One day he had a meltdown and was talking to one of the nurses who asked him about his friends. "I don't have any friends," he said, "just John..."

The nurse glanced at me and said quietly, "Yes, he's great isn't he?" So I found tears streaming down my face too...

7 July 2025. They weren't all good days by far. This one had me very emotional and one of the nurses took me in hand out to a quiet spot in the garden and insisted I sit with her and draw. It wasn't a great scene but it did calm me down and she was very kind. I think the idea was just to get me to a quiet place where she could talk to me. I was discharged to go home the following day.

27 August 2025. It took me a while to get back into doing any artwork. After so many weeks away from home lots of things needed sorting. The home insurance was due to end. The company was going out of business. Just little things like that... No idea where this is meant to be, I used a photo off the Internet and went back to my favourite combination of coloured pencils in the A4 sketchbook.

30 August 2025. Another Internet picture was the inspiration for this. I was particularly chuffed with the tree trunk closest to the viewpoint. Little things...

1 September 2025. The Croatian village of Skradin in the Krka National Park. Pencil crayon in the A4 sketchbook. Remembering some selfish twonk who after having been told we were to go straight to the coach to get back to the cruise ship, decided to instead go for a drink in a bar. His wife came to the bus apologetically to tell the guide and driver, who immediately went to find him and drag him back, this taking 20 minutes. Can you imagine anyone being so self-centred that they are willing to have everyone else on the coach wait for them? Some people just make your blood boil...

14 September 2025. Miss Franny came home from a shopping expedition with a present... I set to and tried them out.

Very different to work with but quite good fun. The Priest House was owned by Henry VIII and passed on to Thomas Cromwell, Anne of Cleves, Queen Mary I and Queen Elizabeth I.

To date that's it. The A4 sketchbook was filled and replaced by another which has yet to be sullied by crayon or pencil. I'll be back within the next few days to continue the tale of the cancer and ulcers and general grottiness BUT... The main thing is I'm still here, still thinking of mischief if not exactly capable of getting up to it and still determined to get to a stage where I can drag Miss Franny off on some foreign jaunt, preferably on the high seas with a couple of fellow musicians I know! Hello 2026!

Sketching and Artwork Index

Artworks, 2025 Part 1

Once again at the start of a New Year, we take a look at my artwork over the past year. Unable to get out and about much this year, most of these have been done from photographs, either my own or those taken around 100 years ago for the postcard industry.

This was one of those from an old postcard. I drew this on 6 January 2025. It is Budleigh in Devon. We had visited a couple of years previously on a coach tour from our holiday base in Torquay. Coloured pencils in the A4 sketchbook.

1 February 2025. I don't think I've ever been to Lynmouth in Devon, but what a fabulous looking place it is. Modern postcard views I've seen are still recogniseable but the modern road surfaces do not add to the general peaceful ambience of this location. Once again (as many of the year's works are) coloured pencils in the A4 sketchbook.

10 February 2025. The Edwardians were as fascinated with the taking of photographs from low-flying aircraft as we have been at the use of drones in the 21st century for the same purpose. I think this is my first attempt at a high viewpoint sketch but I think it turned out ok.

As always I did a search for the location on Google images, which is Withington in Gloucestershire with the Mill Inn. The greenery at the foot of the road bridge over the river has now grown so much that the trees and bushes totally block any view over the side of the bridge. Coloured pencils in the A4 sketchbook.

21 February 2025.I do sometimes make a bit of a hash at these sketches. In this case I managed to turn the square tower of the church at Godshill, Isle of Wight, into a rectangle, Stupid boy... Coloured pencils in the A4 sketchbook is getting to be a much repreated phrase...

This one was from one of my own photographs and depicts a quiet corner of Lake Garda in Northern Italy. At the northern end of the lake, the hills rise on both sides of the lake and behind the top edge of the lake rise a little more slowly but inexorably until you find yourself shivering in the Dolomite mountains. I was coming to the end of the sketchbook, with just a few pages left and was determined to finish it by the end of 2025.

28 March 2025. Back to the Edwardian postcards for this one which shows a road by a stream in Norden near Rochdale. The black blob in the road is supposed to be a cat and indeed was a cat in the photograph. I'm not really sure what the magic of my black crayon managed to turn him into...

12 April 2025. The ancient medieval city of Kotor in Montenegro is a fabulous stop on cruises up or down the Adriatic. Later in the season it is quiet, tranquil and wonderful to explore the streets, cafes and plazas with their open air cafes.

The last time we visited was in August and it was a nightmare of crowds and stifling heat that made us vow never to visit again during the peak summer months. I did this from one of my own photographs (taken during a previous visit!).

22 April 2025. Once again this was done using one of my own photographs as a reference. This is Geiranger in Norway, looking down the fjord with a ferry heading towards the town of Geiranger and a road snaking its way up the steep mountainside.

6 May 2025. Bibury in the Cotswolds is a wonderfully picturesque village and I've done a couple of drawings of it in the past. I've also stood, leaning on the sides of various bridges, watching trout rise up from the bottom of the stream to snaffle up some unsuspecting fly which had the misfortune to become waterlogged and trapped on the surface of the water. All sketches so far have been pencil crayons in the A4 sketchbook. Now for a change...

31 May 2025. Yes well... Several firsts... First sketch done purely with a Bic ballpoint pen. First sketch done totally from memory / imagination. First pic done whilst lying in a hospital bed.

I'd suffered a fall and by now had been in hospital just over two weeks. The whole stay in hospital was to be two months so there's more ballpoints to come. Details of the reason for being in hospital will come as I carry on the story of my cancer and its side effects... Ballpoint pen in the A5 sketchbook, which I asked Miss Franny to bring me to relieve the monotony and (I must admit) to take my mind off some pain...

1 June 2025. The final one for now, there's more to come in Part 2 both ballpoint and a return to colours. The housekeeper on our ward was a lovely young lady and was getting married later on in the year. With a honeymoon booked for Lake Como she asked if I could do a drawing of that. I had to do this from a photo on my phone screen - not easy to see detail, but she was quite taken by it and after taking this photo of it on the phone I ripped the page out of the sketchbook and gave it to her.

Sketching and Artwork Index

Cancer and Leg Ulcers to End of 2024

8 September 2024. The leg is a bit horrible, the antibiotics have started it healing but the skin is very tight and painful around it and the actual wound is very sore especially if my trouser leg catches it. Ah the joys of getting older...

12 September 2024. A bit of a day yesterday... My antibiotics ran out and the leg wasn't getting any better so back again to the docs. He said "Did the District Nurses come?" which was the first I had heard that they were meant to... Anyway he gave me more antibiotics and said he would chase the District Nurses up. I collected my pills from the pharmacy and went home.

At lunchtime I got a call from the doctor again to say he had done more research and wanted to change the pills - more were waiting for me at the pharmacy.

More or less immediately the phone rang again. It was the District Nursing team saying they couldn't get me an appointment until the 20th, could I go to the walk in centre at Blackpool. The walk-in centre there has hardly any parking and is surrounded by streets with resident permit parking only. So I opted to go to Fleetwood.

At Fleetwood I had to do a computerised self-assessment full of questions like "Are you bleeding?" "Have you self-harmed?" "Is there anything sticking in you?" Nothing about sepsis or infection so I sat prepared for a long wait as my answers (nearly all "No") made it sound a bit wimpish.

Anyway I was seen after about 45-60 minutes by a nurse who said "Oh it really needs a District Nurse, they know far more about wounds like this. I know you've been sent here because they can't fit you in..." My leg has a dent in the back of it the size of a penny and the colour of dried blood. Probably because it may well be dried blood... very painful.

Kind and sympathetic, if a little unsure what to do, nurse put a cushioned pad over it and put a square plaster over that which by the time I got home had fallen off. I picked up my new pills and threw away the old pills as I had already taken one that morning and in any case the pharmacy would not take back anything which had been dispensed and already taken out of the pharmacy.

I am now limping about the house and anticipating my mother telling me about the five-year history of her legs which still have yet to sort themselves out... All this excitement in my life...

10 October 2024. I have another MRI at Christies hospital on 29 October followed by a telephone appt. on 14 November. Other than that, no news is good news.

As regards my leg, I am now being seen by the District Nurses although I have to visit them as opposed to home visits as I live outside the area covered by my surgery practice. Yesterday was my third visit and included a Doppler test. Most people will be familiar with the cuff used for a blood pressure test. In my case it was placed over my calf on the good leg and tightened until agony. Then some gel and a microphone was touched to my skin to check the difference between the speed of blood flow under pressure and after deflation of the cuff.

I managed to gasp "I'm glad you didn't do that on the bad leg!" but unfortunately that was exactly what had to happen next, the cuff going over the dressing on the open wound and - well that was agony that took me all my will power not to scream!

My pulse is apparently too fast, though I've been told that before and given the Bertie Bassett's box of pills I take every day, something surely has to be out of range? Whatever. The next step is apparently a Doppler test on my toes???

Meanwhile the dressing that I now sport has turned my bad leg to the size of a tree trunk and I am told to elevate the leg as much as possible, which given a wound right on the back of the calf and resting my leg on either side pulls or pushes at it is not without some sense of excitement! But then who needs more than 2.5-3 hours sleep a night anyway? I'm sort of hoping that Oxford Bags come back into trouser fashion sometime soon...

29 October 2024. Another MRI scan at Christies. With an ulcer on the leg let's just say it was a touch more interesting than normal. "Do you need something under it to support it?" asked nursey.
"No!!!!" I said urgently as she moved in with a bean bag. "Not under it, that would be agony, can you put it under my heel?" Which was ok for 20 minutes but then the beans moved under my foot leaving the other 25 minutes to be a face-scrunching breath-holding adventure. The trip back to the waiting room was only accomplished with nurses on either side, holding me up...

The leg since last Thursday has now been under compression as the algorithm from the doppler test showed I was suitable for compressing. So that also hurts like hell no matter what I do (including doing nothing). Today I have had a shingles vaccine jab now being ancient enough for that. Tablet and inhaler puff count now at 25 daily.

If anyone asks, I'm fine. If I grit my teeth when saying it, it's because I'm trying to get that bit of caviar from between two of them, ok? Thank Heavens for the gorgeous summer weather eh? Imagine if it was getting colder and towards winter... oh wait...

15 November 2024. A feedback phone call from Christies about the recent MRI suggests that the cancer is still stable and they are going to let me have future scans done at Blackpool on a 3-monthly basis. All good for that.

I went to the District Nurses again for the leg ulcer this morning - the first one since the compressions went on a week ago yesterday. A lot of goo and the nurse thought it bigger though she hadn't seen it for a few weeks. Fran sneaked a look and thought it was smaller than last week - I'll hope she's right...! Compression back on now and horrible again after all the mauling about (even though the nurse was as gentle as she could be). Happy days!

6 December 2024. A fabulous Christmas Party this afternoon as guests of the local branch of British Gas Pensioners courtesy of David and Jeannie. It was a lovely meal at the Sheraton Hotel in Blackpool- I just hope it wasn't too unacceptable to start dozing through the entertainment after the meal! I'm struggling with sleep patterns at the moment, tending to be awake all night and very sleepy during the day.

13 December 2024. I keep being told to carry on doing these medical updates and certainly viewing numbers on the blog have shot up quite a bit since I started but if you're getting fed up just scroll past!

I've put the liver cancer to the back of my mind for now. My next MRI will be in Feb/March next year. I'm not having any pains from it now. The pain department has definitely been taken over by the leg ulcer which has been far more painful than anything I have ever suffered before. Currently though it seems to be starting to shrink slightly - the "crater" is not as deep and the overall size of the wound is shrinking, but at the cost of some fairly rough handling to try to remove all the dead skin / flesh / whatever - they call it "slough".

This week was horrendous at the District Nurses and I was in agony afterwards. Next week I am to look forward to having abrasive wipes applied... "take some paracetamol before you come in"...

Swelling from the lymphedema in the legs is also bad, it doesn't need much pressure to cause a dent to appear which takes a while to disappear. Also the other week I was sent one of those poo test things. It came back positive and they wanted to do another colonoscopy. With the state of my leg I could never get to the loo in time to deal with the somewhat explosive laxative preparation so I've put that on hold for now. I have had two telephone appointments to explain and they are leaving it for now. I seem to be getting NHS post through several times a week just at the moment!

25 December 2024. We gather at our daughter's for Christmas. Which is fast looming up on us again. I'm now 3 and a quarter years on from the first TACE procedure. A look at survival rates is sobering but I'm still here. And intend to be here for as long as possible. For now though, I'll take a Merry Yuletide break away from the blog until 2026. Somewhere at the beginning of January the next blog post will be to bore you with the annual look at my artwork done during the previous year (2025).

There were quite a few new sketches, colours, new media - something like 24 images for you to look at. That's what being unable to get out much does for you! See you in 2026.

Family Memories: Personal Index

Cancer: Post Radiotherapy and Side Effects

30 April 2024. Two weeks ago today was my last radiotherapy treatment. Today I got a letter from Christies inviting me to go for a talk with my consultant on 30 May. First I have to go to the phlebotomy department. I think this is to give blood samples for testing rather than to have my bumps felt - though you never know your luck... (No, you pillock! That's phrenology!)

14 May 2024. I have spent most of the past 2 weeks coughing so much my ribs ache and each time it takes a minute or two for my stomach muscles to unclench. If I don't come out of this with a restored six pack I'm going to be very disappointed... Also the 20 or so pills I take daily do not mix with the cough so well and I've developed a new skill in upchucking them out again. Am now managing to stay awake through almost 9 to 10 hours a day which leaves up to 14 hours where needing the bathroom is inconvenient. Managed to watch all the way up to the end of the UK Eurovision entry last weekend in what should surely be renamed next year to the Eurovision S&M Homo-eroticism Contest... Dire... just dire.

30 May 2024. Today was another trip to Christies to give blood samples and see my oncologist. Reassuring to know that with all the grotty side effects, including the passing of poo in Smartie-sized pips until the final bit has to be ejected with such strained force that it can leave you bleeding (sorry folks but this series of articles is meant to help fellow sufferers at the start of their journey understand what they might have to deal with), she seemed to think they were all in keeping with what I've had done.

I had been warned that the cancer would take moisture out of the gut but that phrase doesn't seem to go as far as the possible symptoms somehow... An MRI won't be taken until sometime in July - it apparently has to be 3 months after the radiotherapy has finished.

3 June 2024. Diabetic review today after having donated yet more red corpuscles the other week. Sugar has leapt upwards but thankfully it is due to both the recent radiotherapy and associated stress so should come down again. However for the moment it has increased my daily pill intake again...

13 July 2024. After two years of Covid lockdowns and a year of feeling a whole range of grot from just feeling off, to feeling exhausted and unwell and then having cameras shoved in everywhere, then CT and MRI scans, it was two years ago today that I learned I had cancer on the liver. Since then I've been passed from Blackpool Victoria Hospital to Leeds St James then Christies hospitals, two procedures, one that worked and one that didn't, an intense course of radiotherapy that I'm still recovering from the after effects of.

I'm hoping that the next MRI a week on Tuesday will tell me that the radiotherapy worked. Throughout, the support of people that I have known from all sorts of periods and places has been amazing and I thank you all. Special mention has to go to school chum Janet Astley and hubby Graham for giving up time and more, ferrying me to and from Leeds and Manchester, my bestie David Lancaster and Miss Jeannie for their incessant support and love through times during which he and I have both been going through "stuff".

Lastly of course my own family, especially the wonderful Miss Franny who has watched over, encouraged and cared for me throughout and Gillian Statham our daughter and son-in-law Edward for all their support and help with running about and doing stuff when I've not been able to. And I mustn't forget our wonderful granddaughter Grace, who cheers me up and fills me with love and who comes to rub my arm or back if ever I show any sign of a cough or discomfort. Two years is enough - Christies: I want that next MRI to show nothing but what should be there!

22 July 2024. Just got back from another fabulous weekend with Talking Pictures TV at their Monmouth Festival of Film. Many thanks to Noel and Sarah Cronin for putting on such wonderful weekends, to Caroline Munro, Jayne Crimin and Madeline Smith for being as lovely as they always are and to comedian, Mel Byron, for naming me from the stage leaving everybody wondering who the heck I was.

Some other great guests including Tony Christie, Maureen Lipman, the indefatigable Jimmy Cricket who had the audience in stitches throughout his spot and no TPTV weekend would be complete without the glamourous Lola Lamour. There were many more of course including The Footage Detectives with Noel and Mike Read and some great film snippets and features.

23 July 2024. Just back at 8.54pm from Christies hospital where I had bloods taken and then MRI scan. Bloods were taken at around 2.30pm so a long afternoon. In the waiting room for the MRI I was sitting next to a guy who had been diagnosed with cancer across his shoulders. He was asking me about my experiences as he was only recently diagnosed. Although I was honest, I was making light of my own experiences, yet he was staring at me like I was some sort of hero and saying "Oh my God!" at almost everything I said. I'm no blooming hero, but what can you say when you are asked "Were you put under when you had your operation?"

I had to say, "No, because I had to hold my breath at certain points, so it was just a local anaesthetic..."
"Oh my God! So you were awake all through it? How long did it take?"
"About three quarters of an hour..."
"Oh my God!!!"

8 August 2024. Got the results of my first scan after the radiotherapy today. The cancer hasn't grown and hasn't shrunk or disappeared. "It's what we would hope to see, we wouldn't have expected it to have shrunk yet, it takes longer than that after radiotherapy." Well, if they had told me that in April it would have saved me from what feels like a disappointment today then wouldn't it...? Ah well - another MRI in 3 months. Same old.

What follows next is our cruise with Tomas and Maris on the Norwegian Pearl in the Adriatic Sea. This has already featured on the blog but I'll just repeat this little snippet from the entry on 1 September 2024 in which I am describing a day in Rijeka on 21 August 2024.

A couple of weeks ago I took a step short coming downstairs at home and scraped the back of my leg on the step, leaving a carpet burn that blistered. I'd been putting antiseptic cream on but Miss Franny had only packed the small tube we were halfway through so needed to buy some more. I know it sounds trivial but at age 70 and with diabetes, these things do not heal quickly and can be very painful."

In fact the damage to the liver had given me a developing leg ulcer. Any pain I might have had from the cancer would shrink in my mind due to what I would suffer from this and more similar spread of wounds on both legs. I went through the cancer on just paracetamol. With the ulcers I progressed to nerve pain killers and codeine then morphine and still had such pain that I could have wept. (At times I did!)

Currently on 8 December 2025 my legs are still bandaged though the wounds are disappearing. 15 months of suffering, 2 months spent in hospital May to the beginning of July this year, unable to stand and having to watch a pool of blood forming on the floor around my feet when I tried... It has been a long struggle that still continues.

Family Memories: Personal Index

Cancer: The Rest of the Radiotherapy

29 March 2024. The second dose of radiotherapy today. Graham got us there in record time - no school traffic with it being Easter, little work traffic but we weren't sure how many would be heading to Manchester Airport. Hold-ups coming back on end of M61 and M6 up to M55 though - I guess Windermere would be a touch crowded today.

The session begins - as all the sessions will begin - with an MRI scan. This tells the medical team whether the tumour is still in the same place and roughly its size. The burning sensation I had on day one turned out to be something I can expect more of as the treatment goes on.

I've been working on an oil pastel of a street scene in Bristol from an old postcard view. There will be no progress on the painting today - once I get home I'm yawning so much I'm in danger of swallowing my computer screen...

2 April 2024. Today was radiotherapy day 3 of 8. Thanks Graham Astley once again for doing the driving to and from Christies. Managed to stay awake for the trip home but zonked for the afternoon. A day off tomorrow before going back for the 4th dose on Thursday. The waiting room for the radiotherapy is huge and always full. I'm not sure just how many machines there are (each in their own large room) but it's a lot. I am usually in Radiotherapy Room 4. There are at least 12 machines.

Once you have had your MRI you wait around another 20 minutes before going into the Radiotherapy room. Meanwhile some people will be going home (or back to their ward if they are staying in hospital) and new patients will be arriving. Some sit in the waiting room on their own and some seem to bring their entire families. Some sit there making conversation with whoever they have brought with them. Some sit quite still, looking worried. Some sit or walk about terrified, some in tears, some saying how they can't go on with this or that they don't want to go on with their treatment.

I always felt a huge sorrow for these people. My own experiences told me that it really wasn't that bad. Sometimes I had pain but it was usually just pain that could come at any time not because of the machines. Yes, there is some discomfort during your 20 minutes inside an MRI tube, mainly from your inability to move, to rub an itch, to wipe your nose or eyes, or discomfort from the pauses in breathing, or the placement of aparatus across your abdomen. Even the sheer noise.

Once in the Radiotherapy Room my greatest problem was the cold temperature of the room and sometimes the sudden movement of quite large parts of the machine rotating around you can make you jump. Also once your treatment starts you will be lying in this large room totally alone. The operators will be in touch via speakers if they need to speak to you and will every now and then make sure you are ok. They can see you too even if you cannot see them.

I haven't played guitar since shortly after the cancer diagnosis. It rests just over the liver and could be painful. But try this to the song "Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic" by The Police :-

Every little twinge we have is magic
Every little stab just make me moan
When my side starts burning it is tragic
When there is no loo I want to go-o-o-o-o-oh

The latter is a real problem. I'm ok in the house but anywhere else once you feel the urge to pee it takes only seconds before you are desperate to the point of being in pain and scared of being unable to control yourself. During COVID it was a real problem as many public toilets were closed and even a shouted "I HAVE TO GO! would have no influence over a jobsworth. We did once have to screech to a halt outside an early morning coffee shop so I could dash in as best as I could, doubled over, to head with just a mute pointing to the toilet which was thankfully empty. Plan outings carefully.

4 April 2024. Halfway through! A couple of "incidents" on the motorway - one looked like a "Hullo Sonny, you're nicked!" one with a van surrounded by police cars and vans. Got to Christies again thanks to Graham and got booked in early. Got called in early too which was a surprise.

I usually snooze the afternoon on the sofa but today went up to lie on the bed as my side was quite sore - I'm wondering what next week will be like with 3 treatments over 5 days. But it will leave me with just one final visit. I'm told the dose keeps working for two weeks and then another MRI probably at the 6 weeks point to see what effect it has all had.

8 April 2024. Five down, three to go. Thanks to Janet Astley who took over from Graham today as he had to go to a meeting. Jan and I met at school aged 11. Just a short while ago...

10 April 2024. Yesterday's trip was 6 of 8, the end is in sight. Thanks once again to Graham for doing the driving. Just one more visit this week and then a final visit on Tuesday next week.

12 April 2024. Penultimate treatment at Christies. It was an afternoon appointment and they were busier than we had ever seen them. A little late going in but all went well. Graham was there to drive us and give me a helping hand out of the car and to say gently and patiently, "take your time, stop if you need to," whenever I stumbled or caught a foot on nothing walking down the corridors after the treatment. I have tended to make little of this but the sheer exhaustion cannot be underestimated.

As mentioned above, we have seen a few other people over the weeks on the verge of tears saying "I can't do this anymore..." but today whilst I was lying on the cold bench with what felt like a cricket ball pressed hard into my middle and whirling machines trying to bring out my super powers, Fran saw a chap just burst into heart rending sobs in the waiting room.

It's hard. Probably the hardest thing I've ever had to go through and I wouldn't wish it on anyone. The staff at Christies are awesome, the pressure on them must be enormous and I always try to make them laugh in some way, even if it's only that they shake their heads at each other and say "silly old sod!" when I leave. Most days once we get back after a coffee and perhaps a bite to eat that's me zonked for a couple of hours.

I now have 3 days "off" with my final treatment on Tuesday. Apparently the side effects (in my case the tiredness and burning feeling on my right side where the radiation goes in) will last - or "culminate" is what they actually said which makes me wonder whether it gets worse - for another two weeks after the treatment ends.

Then a gap of four weeks before an MRI to see if it's all been successful. It usually takes another four weeks after an MRI to get results so potentially ten weeks to wait before I get any news. For all and anyone going through similar stuff, you have my respect and my good wishes. You can - and should - do it some more.

Those reserves are deep down inside you and by the end of it you may wonder where they came from, but when you need them, come they will. I still have all my colour in my face, I don't look ill, I don't act ill unless I really, really can't help it, but people saying to my face "No you haven't got cancer - look at you..." you will never know just how angry that makes me even if I don't show it. Don't say it even if you think it.

Roll on Tuesday. Thanks to all those many people who have given me support, hugs both physical and virtual and shown love and help. You are bloody wonderful! I'm especially aware of what a huge worry and burden this has been on family, especially Miss Franny who has herself gone through a different form of cancer in the past.

17 April 2024. Our last visit and treatment for the present went ok yesterday. Thanks go to Mags Cummings for inviting us to her house nearby to rest before driving back, lovely to see you again Mags and thanks for the hospitality. Journey back was fine. Today has been spent asleep or dozing or merely just exhausted. Off to bed again now, life is just too hectic. Night all...

27 April 2024. Typical day in the life at the moment - lots of people complain of sleep breaks, where they can only sleep for short periods. For most of this week I've been having "awake breaks"...

The day goes like this: Wake up, shower, shave, go downstairs to make breakfast. An hour later reminded by Miss Franny to make breakfast. Make breakfast. An hour later realise I've not eaten it yet. Eat it. Half an hour later am woken from doze by Miss Franny to tell me my coffee will be stone cold. Drink stone cold coffee.

Doze until dinner. Have soup and toast or similar for lunch sitting under supervision next to Miss Franny. Woken up to be sent to bed for a couple of hours. Sleep. Woken up in case Grace calls on her way home from school. Sit dazed by rapid progression of videos on her phone of 20-30 year old girls with annoying American accents blowing hundreds of dollars at a time on soft toys.

Once Grace has gone watch "Pointless" to keep brain from going to sleep whilst I have tea. Afterwards ask Miss Franny who won and put on something interesting to watch. Wake up when it is finished and ask Miss Franny what happened... Go to bed. Read until woken up by book hitting my face. Sleep. Repeat...

Family Memories: Personal Index

First Radiotherapy Session, March 2024

14 March 2024. Early morning start to Christies (even earlier for that top man Graham Astley once again acting as chauffeur, carer and all-round good egg) and we got there in good time. I went to register for my MRI, had to undress and wear a gown - either I have shrunk or they have grown - maybe as well because it had to be tied at the front so they could admire my new tattoos.

Usually I spurt blood all over the place quite nonchalantly but this time the canula went in just above my wrist and my left arm must have been empty from the elbow down. The right arm worked though. Inflatable belt again and this time with the added bulk of the MRI plate resting on my abdomen - a ticklish moment when the hard bit of the velcro belt fastening got twisted and the edge started to dig in me under the weight of the plate. I had to stop them, but it got sorted and I was trundled head first into the MRI tunnel - not a huge amount of space between the MRI tunnel ceiling and everything that moved along with me after being belted, inflated and plated...

Ear plugs inserted - not had those before but it was ok - they went in my ears... - and headphones on. Very noisy machine, much more so than Blackpool or Leeds. Had to hold my breath having breathed out which I find very difficult due to the asthma and is illogical anyway, you can't hold what you've already got rid of...

Very stiff and sore coming out of tunnel at the end and when the nurse said "You can sit up now" I had to answer, "Easy for you to say!" So my ankles were grabbed, legs swung to side of bed, hands on shoulders sitting me up - voice from in front says "oh... I'll just shut the door..." as passers-by were treated to bare legs and undies.

They were very apologetic (the nurses not the passers-by). I said "It's ok, I'm old enough not to worry about it as long as no-one actually laughs..." Home now, rested, (means I went to sleep...) and ready to start thinking about this weekend's event as we are off to one of Talking Pictures TV's fabulous Film Festivals. Yay for the good guys.

16 March 2024. A couple of days later we were down in St Albans at the Talking Pictures TV event. I've been lucky enough to know and have fairly long acquaintances with a number of actors in my life and here I am with Bond girls Caroline Munro and Madeline Smith. Other highlights of the weekend were my usual chat with Noel Cronin, who started off our favourite TV channel, getting to sit as "minder" to Caroline over her autograph session, something I've done many times over the years since we first met in 1997. Someone asked if I were her husband... I quickly denied it before she had time to look affronted!

Oh and that naughty but nice chanteuse, Lola Lamour nipped my bum as I was in a queue for coffee. Back on stage after the break, she grinned at me and said, "I pinched your bum!"
"Yes..." I answered loudly, "can I have it back?

21 March 2024. I got a phone call from The Christie hospital. After the MRI they are thinking of reducing the risk to my heart a bit by delivering the radiotherapy over 8 visits rather than 5 (bearing in mind that with a normal doseage it would take 30 visits...

27 March 2024. Graham arrived early to take us once more to Christies. This was for my first radiotherapy session. I was a bit quieter than usual perhaps, wondering what lay ahead as we drove there. I had been warned it might make me feel sick, so Janet had loaded a washing basket with towels - so many I wondered whether she thought I might explode... Anyway it didn't affect me that way.

The session went ok apart from sudden horrendous pain when the belt thing being adjusted moved a floating rib. I had to ask them to let out the belt and physically push the rib back. Luckily I had come across a description of floating ribs beforehand or that could have been a lot more frightening. Do a Google search for "floating ribs".

The procedure means uncovering all parts the beam needs to travel through from one tattoo to another both up/down and side to side. Trousers and undies were pushed down but not removed altogether. This huge lump of machinery moves around you at times (you are on a narrown bed but not in any surrounding tube like with an MRI). You will probably be able to see the point of origin of the laser beams used to pinpoint the track from tattoo to tattoo. Gazing fixedly at them is not recommended. Also the room is very large and cold but you just have to put up with that.

The radiotherapy itself was over in what seemed like a much shorter time than I had expecting. I got off the machine and managed to keep my trousers from falling right down, but then realised I had hold of my trousers but not my undies and had to go fishing... Ah the joys of hospital visits...

I had a burning sensation in the side where the tattoo was for a while but not sure if that was just the weary old body playing tricks with my mind. It felt real though and I asked at my next visit and was told it probably was real.

I was exhausted coming out - I went to sleep in the car coming back. I spent a lot of the afternoon asleep too but we were up early and I suspect that I'll sleep better tonight instead of wondering what I'll be facing next time. Visits are scheduled for either 2 or 3 times a week with a minumum of one free day between treatment days.

Family Memories: Personal Index

Cancer: Preparation for Radiotherapy

12 September 2023. Carrying on from the previous article, it is now the third day after the second TACE procedure on my cancer. The bruise from my groin extends a full 12 inches (30 and a bit cm) round the top of my leg, up the side of my bum and looks set to extend up my back. Though it is starting to go yellow in a few spots. The twinges and stabbies have now started a bit in my side and I know they will get worse and probably last a few months now. Getting tired easily, can nap at any time whilst eating, whilst at the computer, am not driving...!

20 September 2023. Whilst trying to protect the area to the side of my bits where a catheter was shoved up not quite a fortnight ago, I've strained the other side haven't I... So whilst sitting, jumping up and uttering "Oh, 'pon my word!" every now and then, I get a package from Talking Pictures TV with tickets for one of their film festivals that I booked, only to find I'd only ordered one ticket and not two. On the phone grovelling and paying for another ticket and have now returned the ticket for the centre of the front row and await whatever are the best tickets for two seats together. Sigh... I remember when my mind worked properly...

22 September 2023. Ok, so I'm back on track now thank goodness and healing well. Bruise is mostly yellow but still have an 8" x 1.5" strip with purple. Most afternoons involve a nap for anything up to a couple of hours, so often that I have given up and just go to bed for a few hours each afternoon. I have managed to get out of the house once or twice.

19 October 2023. MRI No.6 done and dusted. We found the hotel after a false start... There are four Premier Inns in Leeds and we saw the sign for one from the 4th floor of the car park after picking up the case. It was, of course, the wrong one and in the opposite direction than the one we were booked in.

The MRI machine surprised me a couple of times by saying "take shallow breaths...". So after a short interlude of panting I was starting to think I should breathe into a paper bag... Also the nurse said "I've seen you before haven't I?" So I thought here we go, she remembers me spraying blood all over the place, but no! She remembered either the face or the physique - probably the face because she didn't laugh... So now it's the usual wait for the results whilst trying not to bite my nails further down than the first knuckle... Onwards and upwards! Xxxx

21 November 2023. Tomorrow we are heading once more over to Leeds as I have a face to face with the consultant re the cancer. Not sure what to expect as I've already been told the last set of blood tests showed anaemia or low haemoglobin count again. Any more iron tablets and I'll be unable to walk past magnets...

22 November 2023. Back from the trip to Leeds. Mixed news as always. The last op had no effect. The two tumours haven't changed in size and are both still active or viable - meaning capable of being active. So the medical bods at Leeds are now meeting as a team to decide whether they should try the procedure again or, because the first one shrank the main tumour enough that it's just under the upper limit for radiotherapy, whether to try that.

The team meeting will look at where entry (target) points for radiation would need to be and whether that would zap any other parts that shouldn't be zapped. If they go for radiotherapy it could be done at Christies in Manchester which would knock an hour off each journey. Options would only be Leeds or Christies as it has to be done in a major cancer-specialising hospital. Not likely to hear now until near Christmas and nothing likely to happen until next year. Took a full 8-hour day that, from leaving house to getting back.

28 November 2023. I'm getting very dozy. I can fall asleep no matter where I am, at my desk, watching TV, in the doctor's waiting room. Miss Franny is having to nudge me every half hour or so...

1 December 2023. Blooming heck! Mid meal - CRUNCH! - sigh... didn't need that tooth anyway... This is the start of a few losses in the mouth, mainly on the lower right where one missing tooth has created a space for another one to gradually lean over, crushing another couple of teeth. Luckily they haven't caused any pain or discomfort so I've sort of ignored them. Our dentist got taken over by someone who announced I needed four extractions and two fillings before I'd even opened my mouth...

16 January 2024. Follow-up to the meeting at Leeds on 22 Nov. Apparently my details and scans have been forwarded from Leeds to Christies Hospital who are still to make a decision on whether radiotherapy is possible for me. Next step is wait for Christies to get in touch and presumably they will want an up-to-date scan to see whether the tumours have grown or not since my last scan in October. In other words: don't know nuffink... The only thing I do know is that I am still able to fall asleep within two seconds of letting my mind go blank...

8 February 2024. It's my first visit to Christies (or more formally: The Christie) Hospital just outside Manchester today. I am to have Stereotatic Ablative Body Radiotherapy which is high dose, precisely targetted and due to the high dosage will be completed within 5 treatments, one every two days. There are some risks and some side effects. The risk of not having it done is of course a touch more severe... Two visits before the treatment days to have scans done to see how much my liver moves about of its own accord. (It's always been a bit flighty...) Some sort of belt is used to limit my breathing during the hour long treatments - sounds fun to a life-long asthmatic. They estimate that treatment will start in March. Oh... and I have apparently shrunk an inch and a half in height since the last time I was measured.

I updated friends on Facebook and had a few questions directed to me about what on earth "Stereotatic Ablative Body Radiotherapy" meant. I responded:

SABR - stereotatic means two beams - all the better to make me glow in the dark. Hope they don't cross the beams! (see Ghostbusters for explanation)

Ablative means to reduce.

Body apparently means that just the thought of it has reduced me one and a half inches already

Radiotherapy means I'll go green and strong when narked... a bit like the jolly green giant... or the Hulk... or something... This would have been better on Facebook if I hadn't missed out the letter R in narked...

15 February 2024. Letters arriving from Christies on a daily basis (well, it's only been a couple of days...) CT scan and planning meeting scheduled for 8 March and MRI on 14 March. Expecting the treatment to start shortly afterwards.

8 March 2024. To Christies for a CT scan and meet with the oncology team to plan the raidotherapy treatment. We had met up with friends from school days a couple of weeks ago and Graham had very kindly offered to drive us to Christies whenever I needed to go. "I can't ask you to take me there twice a week!" I exclaimed.

"Well... you can..." came the calm reply. What an absolute gent. Already he had taken us to Leeds many times, giving up a entire day each time.

Anyway we got to Christies, found that there was free parking. I found the Radiotherapy ward ok, got registered, had the prep talk then decided not to risk the scanner without going to the loo first. Then of course I got lost in a long corridor as the loo was down a side corridor... I also managed to get lost coming back, as all the doors were marked "Radiation - Do Not Enter" so I didn't fancy opening the wrong door...

The bit I was worried about was the belt around the abdomen to restrict my breathing. The nurse assisting with the CT put it on and tightened it and I thought "oh... not so bad..." Then she said "I'll inflate it now..." It felt a bit like having a solid cricket ball pressed hard into your stomach making each breath a gasp. My chest looks like a noughts and crosses board, arrows everywhere (drawn on not shot at...) I got four tattooed dots, which would be used to ensure the beam would enter and travel through me from the right point and in the right direction. Two dots gave the vertical target and two others from side to side gave the horizontal. I had been warned the beam would touch the bottom of a lung and my heart. One of the dots was tattooed only an inch above a designated area of natural interest (that one made me wince!).

This was the tattoo on my chest - no you can't see the corresponding one lower down...

We got home mid afternoon, I was asleep in 15 minutes flat... The actual radiotherapy will start in just a few days.

Family Memories - Personal Index