Recently, there has been a deluge of messages* from people, requesting updates to this blog (*OK, about half a dozen people emailed to see if I was dead yet). No I'm not dead yet. So here's the plan - I'll issue a rash of short updates and then forget to do any more for another... Continue Reading →
A Guide to Daytime TV
Now that much of the population will be joining me in spending all day with their arses parked on the settee thanks to C-C-C-Covid19, 19. I thought I'd welcome you to 'the lifestyle' by digging out this blog post from 2011 [That's nine years ago, passage of time fans]. It's remarkable how little the daytime TV... Continue Reading →
The hairless whispers of a good friend
Facebook recently saw fit to remind me that this time last year, I was a cast iron, ocean going slapheed. For those who don't speak fluent Geordie, that is to say I was as bald as a coot, or as we shall see, as a bloke who shudders in fear at the words 'Operation Yewtree'.... Continue Reading →
Temo chemo
For all my wanging on about this being a real time blog about having a brain tumour and what it's like to undergo treatment, I've left it way too late to write this post, but then when I decided on a real time blog I a) didn't realise how little would actually happen during treatment;... Continue Reading →
A change of plan
Right then. Where were we? Oh yes, it was the 4th April and I was due to start the third round of PCV chemotherapy but my blood platelets had fallen below the minimum level to be able to undertake chemotherapy, so I'd been sent home for a week to concentrate on growing some more. Truth... Continue Reading →
One year in
A year on from a brain tumour diagnosis, I reflect on having a big cancerous melon for a heed.
People will always need platelets
As chemo cycle 3 loomed, I began to sleep less and worry more, until I came to a stunning realisation: I don't like chemo. As revelations go, it's not up there with Archimedes or Newton's; it was designed to be a medical treatment, not a barrel of laughs, but thus far I had been steadfastly... Continue Reading →
Don’t count your chickens
At the first chemo appointment, the nurse had told me to keep a note of any side effects each day. Once the puking episode was sorted, there weren't really any side effects to note down for the rest of the first cycle, so I started writing down daft stuff like 'steam is more visible' (as... Continue Reading →
Cacophany and the tyranny of authenticity
It's been a while. There are lots of reasons why. Physical - I'll wang on at length about that another time; Practical - not much happens most of the time; Cognitive - treatment is increasingly affecting my ability to think straight; and Mental - literally. Practical The main problem with cancer treatment is that it... Continue Reading →
World Poetry Day
Dr Rachel Clarke shared this poem by Helen Dunmore on Twitter today for World Poetry Day. It struck a chord and I want to share it here so as not to forget it, despite the fact that I chuffing hate poetry. My Life's Stem Was Cut My life's stem was cut, But quickly, lovingly I... Continue Reading →