Get On!

The Cheltenham Festival has been good for me.

The first two races on Tuesday returned a 12/1 and an 8/1 winner. Of the other two runners in my Yankee, one was a non-runner (which is good) and the other was 6/4 third.

I calculate that Mr Ladbroke will pay me back £64 but when I go to see him, he gives me £128.

Result!

(The difference is something to do with the non-runner.)

I decide to quit while I'm ahead and have no more bets during the meeting but it's good to see a fantastic race in the Gold Cup today when the great Denman is beaten by the greater Kauto Star.

It would have been good to go and meet the boys up in the pub to watch the racing this week but it's still way too dangerous to get into enclosed spaces and risk infection.

Maybe next year.

Denis came out to Dirleton for lunch today - well, bacon rolls.

It was good of him to come so far just for that but we had a right laugh recycling the same old stories that we've done for the past 30 years.

They're still funny though.

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Pride Comes Before a Fall

I'm definitely making lots of progress but rapidly getting bored with going to Tesco nearly every day. I still can't be bothered doing much else though.
All of this inactivity means that I'm not building up my strength as quickly as I'd hoped and my legs are still a bit weak and thin from having been lying on my bed in hospital for nearly a month.
This was evident tonight when I overbalanced a wee bit and took a step backwards in the living room. My leg just didn't take my weight. In what seemed like slow motion, I dropped like a stone.
Fortunately, I wasn't hurt but my pride took a dent and I got a right fright. It brings it home a bit that actually I might still have a way to go until I'm better.

To help pass the time, I've discovered SPORCLE the website of 'mentally stimulating diversions'.
Have a look. It's great and very addictive.
It's now my first 'Website of the Day' - I hope you like it as much as I do.

. . . . Gone Tomorrow

One week after Chemo 2 and I've been absolutely fine - sort of.

I haven't been sick or nauseous or anything but I have felt very lethargic and really haven't done anything constructive. I just canny be bothered.

However, I do know quite a lot more about the English canal system and I could probably build myself a traditional wooden boat if I wanted to - thanks to daytime TV!

I've also had a very hot and red face and head. In the great scheme of things, it's very trivial but it isn't half annoying and I'm taking every opportunity to complain about it to whoever will listen. I think it's caused by a slight allergic reaction to one of the R-CHOP drugs.
It's easing off as the week has gone on so I'm starting to feel a bit better and less hassled.

Oh aye - and as you can see - I've had my nut cut!

And I like it - very much.

It was a bit straggly and thin so Graham and I decided to see what it would be like when it was just cut short rather than shaved off snooker ball style. If it all falls out then we'll re-evaluate the situation but for now I've gone for a 'Guantanamo Bay'!

Remarkable fact of the day:

I've only had my hair cut by one barber - Graham - over the past 40 years.

I never get it cut on holiday or anywhere else and once when I was in hospital for eight weeks, I waited until I got out to get it cut.

In all that time, this is the first time that I've had a noticeably different style!

I'm going to make the most of it!

Put the Flags Out

An amazing thing's happened.

While sitting watching TV tonight, I gave out one of my usual coughs.

Nothing remarkable about that as I've been coughing almost non-stop since last October.

This time though, I thought I had hurt myself. In an instant, it felt as though my chest wall had detached itself from my rib cage. I could feel it 'detaching' right the way round from front to back and on to the front again in a clockwise direction. It's really hard to explain and it wasn't really sore - it just felt like it should be.

There's good news though . . . . . . .

I HAVEN'T COUGHED SINCE!

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The Azzurri get the Blues

Scotland have won a rugby match!!
They've beaten Italy 26-6. Hooray!
Way back in 1971, my Dad and I went to our very first rugby match. We were meant to be going to see Hearts play Aberdeen at football but saw the buses going to Murrayfield and got on one of them instead.
Scotland were playing England in a special Centenary International having already beaten them in the Five Nations the previous week. It was magical. A huge crowd, a great game, PC Brown kicked his conversions after turning his back on the ball as he walked back before his run up and Scotland won 26-6 to beat England for the second time in eight days. That game sealed our rugby future and each week from then on, we went to hundreds of games together as well as seeing hundreds, if not thousands of others on telly. However, until today, I'm pretty sure that I've never seen another game where the final score was 26-6. Now that's got to be amazing.
I wish Dad was here so that I could check that fact with him and tell him the rest of this story.

A Right Pain in the A...bdomen

Liesl is back to work and I have to go down to see the nurse to get an injection in my belly. I think it's to help fight off infections when my resistance is low after the chemo and next time I'm going to give it to myself (! ! !) but I'm letting the nurse do it this time to show me the ropes.
It's actually very easy and completely painless as it's such a very fine needle. I have to 'pinch an inch' (harder to do than it usually is due to me still being about two stone down but still quite easy) and the nurse jabs it in. Simple.
I'll manage that no problem
- maybe!

And now I just want to get home again. It's only 9 o'clock in the morning but I feel so lethargic. Not tired - I just canny be bothered. This is to be just how I feel for the next few weeks.
This is another chemo side effect.

(For anyone who might be wondering - the picture in this post isn't me. Difficult though that might be to believe.)

Chemo 2 ! !

Liesl's had her hours changed so that she has every Wednesday off. This is partly because my chemo schedule is every third Wednesday for the next 15 weeks - that's 5 doses.
I'll get another CT scan to check on progress after Chemo 3 and another after Chemo 6. If the n-hl is still there, I'll get another two doses.
The first dose as an outpatient is today!

It means a return to Ward 1 where I went on the day I had to be re-admitted. I can't remember much about it then as it was so busy - lots of people sitting on comfy chairs with not many to spare.
Luckily, I get sent to Area 4 (of 4) and it's quite quiet and very bright and sunny. It's not really like a hospital at all - more like a local health centre with big, comfy chairs. Here's a tip if you're ever unfortunate enough to have to go as a patient - pick one of the electric chairs that lets you put your feet up. They're much more comfy when you invariably dose off.
Given a bit of luck, the whole process should take about three and a half hours. Unfortunately, I haven't given a prior blood sample at my docs, so I do that, then get sent away for an hour and a half while they wait on the results.
We go along to Stockbridge for a braw breakfast of bacon and scrambled eggs on a muffin.

It's all systems go when we get back.
Pre-meds including Piritin which makes me very drowsy and fights against allergies. Then the Rituximab goes in via a drip and takes about two hours. This is when I fall asleep. Then it's the bolus injections again which take about 40 minutes. All in all it's taken nearly six hours and I'm knackered!
Let's get hame!

The main news story today is that David Cameron's son, Ivan, has died after a short and difficult life. Prime Minister's Questions was suspended so that tributes could be paid.
How come it takes a tragedy to get MPs to act like civilised human beings?