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Coming Home


Yesterday we drove home. The traffic seemed quite bad although it’s been a few years since I’ve driven along the North Devon Link Road. In fact it’s 2 or 3 years since I’ve driven in the UK in September at all, usually we're in the France at this time of year. Not this year on two counts!

We find ourselves driving through the little village of Brayford. The significance here is just above Brayford is an even smaller community called Charles. This is where my good friends JW and SB lived and died. JW is buried in the churchyard there. I felt a pang of guilt that I didn’t visit his grave but small Devon lanes and fragile motorhomes don’t mix. SB is buried in her childhood home in West Wales. Lots of happy memories of spending time here and the view from the top of Charles church tower is spectacular.

We arrive home but not after stopping to make fish finger sandwiches for lunch. Piping hot, crispy, fish fingers in fresh bread rolls with slightly too much butter and Heinz tomato ketchup. Mmmm! (Only just beaten, later in the day, by the Kernowforno Veggie Mix-up pizza followed by the Apple Crumble and Clotted Cream pizza at Lostwithiel.)

We need to be home by 3pm . The community nurse is calling to check my newly implanted port-a-cath prior to my next chemo, all is good, and Tricia needs to visit her ailing mum. While I’m waiting I start to unload the motorhome and sneak in 40 winks.

M visits. M has health issues of his own and we talk of how we felt when we were told of our fate. An interesting conversation. We reacted in quite different ways. Me, I yap about it. M is much more private. I’ve probably said too much already. But what we did talk about was whether we felt a sense of freedom from constraint. We agreed there was an element of derring-do. What if I get a parking fine? What if I get caught speeding? We developed this train of thought and decided to form a useful society. It needs some fine tuning, a lot of organisation and probably a little bit of MI5 and maybe MI6 involvement but I think we might be on to something. There are far too many people in our society that have a similar diagnosis as me. Essentially good, honest, upright, law abiding citizens whose days are numbered. There are simultaneously far too many people in our society that roam around causing no end of grief. Complete toe rags that society could well do without whose days should be numbered. In fact, often, an enormous financial burden as well. In 2017-2018 the cost per prisoner per year in the UK was £37,542. And that’s after they’ve been caught and processed. See where I’m going? There needs to be some kind of intervention.........

The Terminal Interventionist Terminators. Give me a call Priti Patel or maybe Quentin Tarantino. I see a role for Jason Statham (or Alan Carr!!)

Aside from all this nonsense I now have my revised dates for my chemo, every other Thursday for the next 12 weeks. I also have my next clinic appointment with Dr Parnell. There can’t be any more issues now can there? Oh wait! I have a schedule of 6 new sessions booked but I've already had one. I’d better check is it 6 or 7? I was originally booked in for 6. I’ll check with Dr Parnell when I see her at the Sunrise Centre. Oops! My appointment with her is on the same day, at the same time as I’m in the Headland Unit having my chemo. Funny it’s not like Treliske to make a cock up. I think Matt Hancock might like to give me a call as well.

On the other hand I see a job for the TITs



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