Thankful Thursday: Every Cloud

has a silver lining.

It's over five months since I wrote the last post on this blog and today is the first time since I wrote it that I have re-read it in full.  I don't think that I appreciated at the time just how much I would miss New Zealand and my life there.  In fact from the moment I arrived back in Scotland the idea of not going back was banished from my mind.  I think that I must have been having a severe dose of reality when I wrote the post and that my optimistic me was on hold for a short while.  In fact I think that until last week I was actually sub-consciously more concerned about my cancer than I've been since 2010 and, perhaps, since I was diagnosed in 1998.

Today's reality is that I shall not be returning at the end of this month as I usually do and, indeed, it may well be that I shall not return this summer (New Zealand's summer that is). But then again I may. For many reasons it seems unlikely that I shall be able to resume my Godwit existence but I'm more optimistic now about a return to my other spiritual home.

My cancer treatment has been under close review since I returned  and a couple of weeks ago I had a complete set of scans which confirmed that no prostatic cancer tumours have developed in my abdomen or chest.  So the situation is that my blood count is increasing rapidly but is still low enough for hormone treatment to be delayed for a while in order to achieve maximum benefit.  Apparently that is because I am quite fit and the treatment has not had an adverse effect on me in the past.  So it looks like taking any decisions about returning to NZ for the time being are still on hold.

However who knows what will happen in a few months and I am now back in an optimistic enough frame of mind to believe that I shall be seeing The Family again in their own setting and that I shall again play croquet on the hallowed Marewa lawns: perhaps not this summer but certainly the following one.

Thankful Thursday: The Tournament

I can't believe that it's a week since I posted on this blog.  I think it may be the longest period I've gone without posting when I've been in this country since I started the blog in 2007.  I am now hitting the problem of currency.  All my posts for Art Deco Weekend and even my Northland posts will no longer be current and whilst that won't matter in the least to you as a reader it's a question of mindset for me, the writer.

As you may imagine it's been a busy couple of weeks and the tournament was particularly time consuming both in terms of time spent on the lawns and time spent socialising and, I have to admit, sleeping.  Gone are the nights of 5 hours sleep; now I seem to require 6 or even 7 hours and it's eating into my 'doing' time [sorry Francis, I feel sure you wouldn't approve of the use of those 's].

Excuse me whilst I deprive a mosquito of its existence.  I can't go to sleep or type a blog post with a mozzie buzzing around.  Done.  Leastways lots of spray distributed liberally in the area of the room to where he (or, worse still, she - the bitey one) retreated.  Oddly I have become more allergic to mozzie bites rather than less as my time here progresses.  Fortunately Mozzies carrying any disease likely to be serious to man are rare in New Zealand. 

The tournament was both enjoyable and, for me, successful.  Having languished in the doldrums for the last season with relatively few tournament successes I managed to win the Bay of Plenty Golf Croquet Open Championship.  I was, I have to admit, fair chuffed.  That evening I went to Katherine's for supper with some of her friends and family.  As one might imagine from her blog the company she keeps is equally interesting.  I had a wonderful evening.  When I replied to her question as to how I'd done at the tournament with the news of my win she responded "and how are you going to blog about that and not sound as though you are boasting?" (or something like that).  Well you can judge whether my mentioning it was boasting or not.  I'll accept whatever judgement you bestow.  'Cos I won!

So today I am thankful, as I usually am these days, for my full and interesting (to me) life.  I am thankful for the win which has lifted my croquet spirits from the doldrums.  

But to put all that into perspective I am thankful today for the news I received last evening from a croquet friend and doubles partner with whom I won the Vets (veterans - nothing to do with furry creatures) this year.  She has had the all-clear after her latest check-up after having had a cancer removed last year).

Andrew

Andrew - Self portrait

18 January is the anniversary of Andrew's birth. He would have been 36 today.

You may wonder why this posting is appearing on this particular Blog. The answer is that it relates to the reason why I am here and why I am alive and thus able to be here.

In early 2006 (Andy died on 4 June 2006) some of Andy's Blog postings were very harrowing. It has taken me a long time to pluck up the emotional courage to re-read them.

I am very conscious of the fact that I have no real idea what it is like to have cancer. Although I knew that I had cancer I suffered absolutely no symptoms nor ill health. For me from diagnosis to operation to a reasonable recovery took a matter of a few months. The great majority of people have to wait that long just to get an MRI scan. I had no time for worry, contemplation or any other emotion. Mind you if I hadn't had Dr Lawson as my doctor I wouldn't be alive (amazing that after that he came to live and practise in New Zealand a matter of 20 kilometres from where I now stay, before he returned to Lewis ). The Consultant told me that if I hadn't had the operation when I did then my life would probably have ended rather unpleasantly within a few months. Scary really. Every day I wake up I am grateful.

Andy wasn't so lucky. He'd known that he had cancer for many years and by the time of his death he had suffered more than most of us can even start to imagine - and I certainly include myself in that category. He suffered a lot more than many cancer sufferers. But Andy had tremendous hope and courage. On 2 January 2006 his thoughts on the year just past were:

so stitch that ya bas

2005. "Been a shitty year, but the show must go on" - kyle said it better than i ever could. at the start of the year, i had it all to look forward to. i'd worked my arse off for three years to get to where i was in march, with a masters degree, java certification, a new (dream) job, and an offer in on a new flat in leafy isleworth. what could possibly go wrong? well, we all know the answer to that. i'm not one to wallow in self-pity, i may indulge in it now and again but though it's fun for a while it doesn't really get you anywhere. having said that, it's frustrating to look at where i was a mere 9 months ago, and the shit i've had to go through since then. but i don't feel sorry for myself, i really don't. i've been very fortunate in my life, i've never wanted for anything, i've never gone hungry or cold, i've got lots of real friends and my own flat, a fantastic job in an understanding company, and i've been blessed with a great musical taste and fashion sense (oh yes i have). so what's to complain about? no matter what happens in this next year, whether they can operate or not, whether i have to give up work or not, and whether, ultimately, i get better or not, i don't feel sorry for myself. i've had a great life so far, and nothing can change that.

The postings for the next few weeks catalogued his illness. After a week of daily visits to clinics and some very upsetting postings came:

ka-boom? yes, rico. ka-boom. so i've been putting my great christmas present (the splendid champion juicer) to good use. every day i grind up a shitload of fruit and veg and chug the lot. well, after a while you get bored of the same old same old, so when i was in the supermarket i went to the juices section for some inspiration. and there it was - a bottle marked 'apple and ginger'. ooh - très exotic, n'est pas? so i grab a handful of ginger and a bag full of apples and home i go. i've never juiced ginger before. i cut up a piece, a big cube about an inch long, and chuck it through the juicer. juicer growls, and spits out a tiny wee bit of juice. hmm, that's not a lot, best chuck some more in. so in goes another big lump. still not getting much juice but i've used it all up now. oh well, never mind. in go the apples and i've got a pint of apple juice with a wee bit of ginger in it. cheers, i says to myself, and takes a hearty swig. five minutes later, i wake up on the kitchen floor. what's happened? someone's set fire to my head. is that blood? oh god, my mouth, i can't feel my mouth! my tongue has dissolved! help! snot is dribbling all over my face, tears stream from my eyes. i'd call an ambulance but without a tongue how can i tell them where i live? so anyway, the moral of this story is simple. never get ideas above your station, or your head explodes. seriously.

I miss him so much.