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Chapel Announcements. Is it Custard or Curry?


Yesterday was a good day in a weepy sort of way.

The day my chemo pump comes off is always a good day. I’m surprised how easily I have adapted to my medical medallion...but I have. It’s just a couple of days anyway.

It was a good day because it was sunny, sunny days are good days.


It was a good day because we had delivered, under guarantee, an AEG replacement combination microwave. Occasionally our existing one suffers from a steamed up door. It shouldn’t happen but apparently it’s not a safety or efficiency issue so for the time being we have an impromptu coffee table in the lounge until I get around to changing it.


It was a good day because, again, I was asked if another member of the community nursing team could, under supervision, do a bit of experiential learning on my pump removal. The nurses also had the official guided tour of the garden then one of them posed on the Harley. Oh! Her training went very well!


I had a good day because I made a couple of raised planters out of redundant galvanised storage bins, an old pallet and a couple of growbags.


I had a good day because 3 of our neighbours came for a gawp at the Harley. “Blimey, is that about 400cc?” Not everyone knows bike things I suppose, it’s actually 1,450cc. I took it for a short trip. Far enough to clear the carbs that were flooded and to lose a 5/8 UNF nut securing one of the wing mirrors into position. I rode home with a wayward mirror swinging gaily in the breeze. All fixed now. After a few years of not riding a bike my confidence is growing.


It was a good day because of the generosity of my friends. Since my diagnosis I’ve said don’t give me presents I can’t consume. Frankly I don’t want stuff I will eventually leave to Tricia to deal with. F.Y.I. I’m not that fond of grapes.

Some, probably all of the above, brings me neatly to my next set of observations. That of the various stages of crying. The failure to maintain a “stiff upper lip". Ever since my first diagnosis I’ve been, below the surface, an emotional wreck of swans legs while desperately trying to remain a calm vista above the surface. It's working for me. You generally see my smiley face. What you don’t see is my carved up tummy and bruised inner elbows. You don’t feel my sore aching feet. You don’t feel my need to wear gloves much of the time. You probably don't shake when you're hungry or after you've eaten.

I still enjoy my food but some days I can’t taste the difference between custard or curry or when spicy food seems to strip any protection from the inside of my mouth. You may not have experienced the sudden need to lie down to sleep.


Even without contemplating my future or thinking about my family and friends carrying on without me it’s all too easy to cry.

Generosity comes in all sorts of ways. Take gifts. From a small carved wooden heart to a little knitted hedgehog to the loan of a Harley Davidson (while I can still ride) or an airplane trip over Cornwall. Perhaps it's helping me do things like installing a new washing machine or clearing blocked and overflowing guttering. There's more, many more acts of kindness. Generosity of time or a simple message in the evening "How you doddling along? XxX" I'm doddling along very nicely thank you. I appreciate you asking.



Much of the above moves me to tears. Opening an early birthday card with a voucher for a trip in an airplane over Cornwall immediately made me weep.


So I thought I’d look at some of the synonyms for crying and think of their application to my emotional state whether drug induced or not. I’m often tearful when talking to others about my circumstances, sometimes I find myself weeping quietly alone especially if I wake up from an afternoon sleep, it soon passes. I become teary, when I think about the grandkids growing up. Blimey I get close to tears watching TV. I’m not only often on the verge of tears, occasionally I find myself properly sobbing when the only cure seems to be a hug. I’ve probably experienced, by now, at different times and with different stimulus snivelling and whimpering. I've been emotional, sad, mournful, woeful, unhappy, depressed, gloomy, melancholy, low-spirited, despondent, downcast, low, glum, morose, sorrowful, joyless, disconsolate, doleful, maudlin, miserable, forlorn, grief-stricken, weepy, blubbering, down, down in the mouth, blue.


But yesterday actually was a good day and today is shaping up pretty good as well.


At this point I usually put on my marketing head. Today isn't any different. It’s a bit like Chapel Announcements.


First its the weekly coffee club every Tuesday at 10am the easiest way in is by visiting www.itscancernotcovid.com where on the front page you can simply click the join meeting and, as if by magic, the meeting appears.


I'm also thinking of a little walk. Perhaps next Thursday week. That'll be the 6th May. Kingswood to Pentewan. It’s about 3 miles but if I’m being a bit ambitious I can simply have another drink in Pentewan and wait for a lift. Thinking ahead for a change. See the walk here https://www.iwalkcornwall.co.uk/walk/kingswood_and_pentewan

The third idea is a ride/drive/ picnic to ......... It’ll need to be a weekend, probably a Sunday where those of us that has the urge can join in. There’ll be 3 or 4( maybe more) classic cars, possibly a few not particularly classic cars, a few motorbikes and cake. If you want to come along in your normal ride that’s good too. I just need to decide where to!


Let’s stop this crying business.


I'm doddling along nicely thank you!

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