Just another day.  Got on with a fair bit of work and preparation for a meeting,  Got sign off on a small website.  I quite enjoyed doing that, nice people.

I was pleased to get a phone call from Emma, Mr Borley’s assistant enquiring after the meeting at Birmingham Hospital.  She wasn’t aware it had been cancelled.  (Why don’t we have centralized patient records in this country?)

It’s always nice when Emma calls, she is always so positive without being patronising.  She talks sense and understands what you say without trying to read between lines.  She can put a positive spin on just about anything.  Cheered me up!

Not much going on today except that I actually enjoyed work.  I managed to finish off one small site and made significant in-roads on another. 

So much so I was able to turn my attention to a proposal that involved my doing marketing consultancy work for a client.  It’s really good stuff and one where I know I can make a difference.  However, there was just one point where I found myself going the extra mile to reasure them, ”…if you feel in the future you would like to bring the project in-house…”, they could easily do so.

Nothing mind-blowing, but the thoughts of a time-limited future are never far away.

I thought I was hearing things or the media was up to it’s usual trick of extreme exaggeration when I heard that pupils at one school are forced to put on goggles before using Blu Tack to prevent them rubbing it in their eyes.

So I had a bit of a dig around to find what other rubbish rules our schools impose, normally under the guise of ‘Health and Safety’.

Assuming you’ve lost your last pair of goggles and therefore the blu tack is out of bounds, you might be a bit pissed off to learn that teachers are required to read a five-page briefing note on the dangers of Pritt Stick before they may use it with children.

Can you believe that empty egg boxes are banned in some schools for fear of salmonella poisoning; and it’s no use reaching for the empty bog rolls either, ’cause they’re banned as well. Oh, and don’t give the little cherubs shaving foam in art classes because they ‘might drown in it’.

Never mind, they can always go out to play; with just one or two restrictions, because there are bans on footballs, snowball fights, conker games and running in the playground. Just as well really, because some schools have stopped children going outside without a hat and sun-cream.

Oh and you can forget three-legged races on sports day because children "might fall over". That assumes it’s not raining anyway because PE lessons are not allowed in wet weather.

Other idiot rules include: Teachers banned from sending naughty kids to stand outside the classroom because they pose a ‘Fire Hazard’, pictures must be hung at least 7 ft high on school walls, girls banned from wearing plastic head bands because they could cause damage if they bumped heads, teachers who supervise outings must take a bucket in case children are sick and sweets banned for fear of choking.

I’m reminded of a story my gran once told me, (probably a myth), about the old lady who was so frightened of the modern world that she spent most of her life lying on a feather bed.  She died when she choked on a feather from her pillow!

It’s nice to have a day off, but I fear I may have over done it a little last night.  A bit of a hangover took a while to shake off.

Mostly played the guitar and gardening.

Late afternoon, the client I mentioned yesterday with the Aloe Vera called round unexpectedly with a large box of products for me to look at.  I don’t want to tell him outright that I have a big issue with this sort of product.  In fairness though, I will do a little research to see if there is any medical research on the products.

It did make me feel uneasy though.  Do you do or don’t you don’t?

We were supposed to be going to Birmingham Hospital today.  However, 10 am, they called and said that in view of the MRI scan scheduled for early July, they didn’t see the point of the appointment.

Neither did I.  Sometimes it beggars belief how little the various departments communicate.  They were told ages ago about my appointment with Mr Borley this week, but went ahead and arranged today regardless.  Then they cancel at the last minute.  Frustrating.   Don’t they not realise the anxiety that hospital visits can cause?

One of my biggest problems is a ridiculous fear of needles.  Every time I go to a hospital, some bugger wants to stick a needle in me.  They routinely take blood tests, not because they are going to use it, but just in case they need it.  They do bloods, blood pressure and all the other bits while you are waiting.  It keeps the queues down.  But for somebody like me, the blood tests are pretty awful.

Firstly, I have a history, albeit a long time ago, of fainting  from needles, but more importantly, the Chemo has weakened the vein walls as well as having very narrow veins.  The consequence is that even with a blue, (or a black needle if I can persuade them to use one), the chances of getting the needle in the first time is slim. What’s more, it they do, they can’t get the blood out because the vein collapses or ‘blows’.  I’m running out of good sites to harvest!

Anyway, it was cancelled.

During the afternoon, one of my clients called to ask about some new work.  During the conversation he asked how I was after the operation before Christmas.  When I gave him the update, he offered me some Aloe Vera preparations that would help me.  I was polite in trying to discourage him but he said he would let me have some.  Unfortunately I have a hatred of these ‘quack’ remedies.  My client told me that it “won’t cause any problems as it is all natural ingredients”. Right… So is deadly nightshade, so is Opium, so is cyanide.

The day my specialist says to me, “We are going to put you on a course of Aloe Vera because it will help/cure you” I will listen.  Until then I remain totally against.

I still can’t get my head around work.  I keep thinking, ‘What’s the point?’ and to be truthful I don’t know the answer.

The practicalities of living day to day are obvious, or at least you would think so.  You’ve got to eat, pay the bills etc. But how long do you willingly spend the months you have left in working.  You can’t develop the business, you can’t make long term plans.  You can kid yourself that by working and planning you are being ‘positive’.  That’s a load of bollocks!  So why do it? 

Well the easy answer is because you have to.  But let’s not fool ourselves and say it’s positive, because it’s not.  Karan made the best statement when she said, “Let’s live ten years in two.  Well why not?  Because of the off-chance I live longer and there’s no money to pay for it!  Hang on a minute….  So we don’t live life to the full because we have to plan for the future.

I’ll tell you what… I shall not be tip-toeing around looking for an answer too long.  If I can find a way of making sure Karan hasn’t got too many worries when I go, then watch us LIVE!

Just a taster tonight; we have a night out planned with Richard, Darryl and Stef.  We’re off to see Krush at the 50 Lounge Bar.

Slept surprisingly well last night without any difficulty in getting to sleep.  It’s a bit odd that I feel a little relieved.  Maybe the anticipation was worse than the news.  I’ve always said, “bad news I can deal with, no news I can’t”.  Maybe that is more true than I thought.

Nonetheless, I had no appetite for work today and just went through the motions.  A bit ironic really, because there is a lot of work in at the moment and in the normal course of events, I’d be quite excited.

Doing the rounds of letting people know what has happened is a bit of a double edged sword.  On the one hand I’m flattered that people care, (of course they do, they are friends and family and care a lot!), on the other it is a bit upsetting to keep repeating the same thing over and over.  In a way, it’s therapeutic enabling me to come to terms myself, but it is a constant reminder.

One thing that really does piss me off though is the Macmillan adverts on ‘Five’.  Settle down to a an hour of mindless drivel, ‘Neighbours’’ and ‘The News’ and what do I get every 20 minutes on the adverts. “Not every day is about Cancer, …”.  It is now you pillock! I don’t want reminding!

In the normal course of events, nothing would drag me to a Simply Red concert. Nothing except, that is, Karan likes them, so I went.

The shock was that this was probably the best concert I have been to in some 35-40 years!

The band was awesome, but Hucknall’s voice was unbelievable. At times his mike was down at waist height and he was still filling the whole of Westonbirt.

I’m not going to rabbit on too much, I wouldn’t know how to explain it.  Great Atmosphere, great music, great venue.

I’m a fan for life.

It’s a funny feeling, waiting in a waiting room before going in to see your consultant who is about to tell you when you can expect to die.

Not if; I already knew in my heart that things where not right.  Nothing specific, not feeling ill, but not feeling well either.

The whole thing takes on a whole strange atmosphere, surrealistic, numb, like you’re standing on the edge of a cliff; not wanting to look down, afraid to look up, forbidden from walking backwards and only the cliff in front of you.  The butterflies in your stomach can’t be controlled.  It’s real fear.

I sat down in the consulting room and exchanged pleasantries and laughed in a sort of self-defence.  I asked the inevitable, “Is it good news”?  He didn’t have to speak, the expression on the face preparing to deliver the inevitable. “I’m sorry it’s not the news we were hoping for”. I could feel the shudder from Karan on my left.

There are ‘abnormalities’, (that’s a euphemism for cancer), on the remaining half of my liver.  They can’t be operated on and chemo is more or less out of the question.  Untreated, I am advised I have 6 months to 18 months left.  Given the slow growth shown on the last two scans, it’s more likely to be towards the 18 month end.

There is a ray of hope in some new treatment, Radiofrequency Ablation. It’s fairly none-invasive and can be successful.  The problem is, it can’t be used in some circumstances, where they can’t get a straight line in or where the cancer is near a vein.

So MRI scan some time in July.

I’m still stood on the edge of the cliff, but it’s one step away from it now. 

For those of you that don’t know, I was born in Bury, Lancs.  And what is Bury famous for? Black Puddings!
Stay with me on this one because I need a couple of lines of explanation.
Firstly, let’s understand one thing, there is ONLY way to eat black pudding and that is to BOIL it!
That’s right, BOIL it!.

Whoever the hell first thought it a good idea to fry it was clearly from some cretinous sub-culture.

And what traditionally is a black pudding made from?
Pigs blood, Pig Rind, Oatmeal, Barley and mixed herbs all inside Pig’s intestine.
Traditionally, this is made into a Black Pudding Ring.
(You can also get them as ‘Sticks’ and ‘Chubs’.

So what is the whinge?
In the absence of the ‘real thing’ I have been eating a passable interpretation from Sainsburys.
However, they appear to have changed their supplier!
The new one omits the Barley, the Oats, and the Pig Rind has been replaced with lumps of lard.
In desperation, I succumbed to the ultimate sacrilige and FRIED it!
BIG MISTAKE, because they had swapped the Intestine with PLASTIC!
That’s NOT a Black Pudding, it’s shit.

Bloody Livid!

This a new version, quality of the video is still poor, but this version is a lot better. (Less bum notes!)

Cyclists! Now don’t get me wrong, this is not a whinge about ALL cyclists, just the ones that drive on the same roads as me.

I understand that there are cyclist who obey the rules of the road and are considerate to other road users and their own safety. Unfortunately, in the period of a couple of weeks, there seems to be a whole new generation of idiots taking to the Lycra like a plague of locusts in biblical proportions. Have you ever thought what possesses an otherwise sane human being to go out and buy himself a pair of Lycra shorts? I say he, because I could probably tolerate a female doing that. Just!

What makes them think that they take on a cloak of invincibility when they ride in packs? Single file is great, two abreast, hmmm…, three, stupid and beyond that it’s just plain suicide.

Some time ago, on a trip to mid-Wales, I was toddling along in my old RX7 when I went around a sharp bend only to be confronted by a pack of cyclists spread right across the left side of the road. If anything was coming the other direction it would have been carnage because the choice would have been the wrong side of the road or the Lycra. Sorry, the Lycra gets it. As it was, I was forced across the wrong side and only met with waved fists in my rear mirror by way of thanks. It was some time before I completely lost the urge to turn back and have another go.

Last year, Karan and myself were having lunch in the ‘Greyhound’ pub in Gloucester. We had to wait a while to get served because there was a cycle club on a pub crawl. A PUB CRAWL, on bikes! Half of them were already worse for the wear. What makes beer swilling cyclists immune from the law?

But it’s not just the Lycra mob that leave their brains in their bum-belts. Why is it that twilight is the best time to ride your bike without lights? Dark clothes, no lights, riding on pavements, cutting across traffic at traffic lights, cutting across to the extreme right hand side of a roundabout, (that ones really brain-dead). It seems that there is an ‘alternative’ highway code.

What prompted this week’s whinge was some old prat going about 3 miles an hour in the centre of our lane. Too narrow to overtake and totally oblivious to my toots of the horn, he doggedly held the centre of the road with the occasional weave gently and serenely from side to side. Fortunately I wasn’t in a hurry, but life’s too short. Thankfully, so is our lane.

Thank’s Stef, for these photos of the Carnival.

Stef, (a.k.a. ‘that woman what took up with our Darryl’, was given very short notice for this shoot and has done a cracking job.

Her Carnival photos can be seen on the gallery by clicking the ‘Album’ tab. Photographs

You can also see Stef’s excellent website by clicking here

Just published the first batch of photos from the 4th Annual Bishops Cleeve Carnival held last Sunday.

As well as my own photos, there are more to come from Stef.

Meanwhile enjoy these: Photographs

Why is it that people leave their manners behind when they go on holiday?

On holiday in Gran Canaria last week, on an ‘All Inclusive’ (more about that later), I was stunned by some holiday makers behaviour.  I am reluctant to call it inconsideration, it went beyond that, almost a ‘survival’ instinct kicking in.

The dining hall was classic. 
I saw one woman with side plate filling it with fresh cherries.  Fair enough, but she took the lot. Still fair enough.
However, just as she was walking away, the waiter replenished the tray with a new load of cherries.
She spun around and seemed to grow four foot wider as she began piling more and more cherries on the plate.
It was a frenzy.
When she couldn’t get more on the side plate, she replaced this with a larger bowl.
It wasn’t as if she wanted all the cherries, it was as though she didn’t want anyone else to have them either!

Satisfied that there was no hope of adding more to her stash she started to make her way back to her table, but every couple of steps she stopped to glance back at the remainder on the ca rousel.  She was clearly in a state of mild panic.

She wasn’t alone either. 

During the week I saw someone with a FULL cake on the table.
Quite a few people taking full bottles of Cava back to their table, leaving others to wait for replenishment.

One chap with four large steaks together with about a dozen large battered prawns and spaghetti bolognese all on one plate.  He abandoned the prawns to the tablecloth when he discovered they still had their shells on.

I could go on but my blood pressure wouldn’t stand it.