Mr Fat: thoughts for the day Christmas Eve 2014

I do hope this is not to maudlin for you, it is not intended thus, forgive me if so......

One of my dear cyber friends and Indie Author Brian Meeks sent me a Christmas wish earlier today with his kind thoughts on my condition and hopes for my continued involvement in life.  Well, all I could say to ALL OF YOU out there reading this across cyber space and who continue to be an inspiration to me, taking someone you have never met in life, into your own lives,  and then continually sending messages of support, love and well being.  It is you guys out there, along with my family and British friends who continually pop in to see me, who are the real inspiration to me and my family...........

Dear Brian, my strength and the little success I have had in life, has been down to the fact that most people are good, nice and supportive. I have had that support from family and friends and in the workplace, the latter especially, which allowed me to be known as a very good manager when in reality I was surrounded by a fantastic & supportive workforce.

My family and friends,  both who are here but also like you who are my dear dear cyber friends, give me two things: 1. A pragmatic acceptance of my fate and 2. The energy of the good thoughts and wishes to tell Mr Tumour, ' you are here and you are advancing, but we aren't going to let you take our Husband our Dad, our Grand Dad OUR FRIEND without a fight ' and it is that energy that keeps Me saying, ' get stuffed, mate, I'm  not ready to leave yet ' You and everyone out there, even now are always on my thoughts and I truly wish for a magical holiday season with family and friends for every single one of you,  as mine is and always has been since the birth  of my first child and that magic exploded on the birth of my first grandchild and continues to do so and will keep me here for a long time, being the pain in the ass that I sometimes am.......MERRY XMAS TO ALL MY FRIENDS🎅🎄😍 👪


And then today, one of my best friends turned up bearing Gifts and Flowers and when I asked how he was, as he too has recently been diagnosed with stomach cancer:

My thoughts turned to him as he reports that he has been scheduled for an operation on 20th January, 2015.

He will endure a 5-6 hour operation, they will remove the tumour and everything it touches, left kidney, spleen, pancreas and at least half the colon, as a minimum, intensive care for 2-3 days, hospital, 2-3 weeks, recovery time 3-4 months, he couldn't tell us the prognosis until the surgeons have been in, removed the contaminated bits, and the surgeons can see how good or bad it really is. But what they are sure of is, it must come out and now...

 This type of cancer does not react to chemotherapy or radiotherapy, surgery is the only option.

I have told my Friend, Ricky Everett that like me he is a survivor, think about him in a positive way guys. Like me, he will feel the power of your goodwill. Xxxxx

To everyone out there reading this today, whether you are a regular visitor, and if you are, my sincere apologies for the paucity of posts over the last year, I really shall try to rectify that shortcoming in the new year, it's not as if I don't have the time these days, I wish you and those of you who have just popped in for a wee look,  the very best seasonal wishes to you and to your family and kin.

Don't think sad thoughts for me and Ricky or for anyone else who you might know and who is in a similar situation. Think joyous thoughts and celebrate the lives that we and they have and the life that we and they still have.

For some of us it can be a long road to the end, for others it maybe shorter, but I for one would like to see happy smiling faces and receive happy positive thoughts from anyone, rather than they, you  thinking, 'how sad'.  ENJOY EVERY MINUTE YOU HAVE

Ishbel and me of to the Royal Opera House 

On Holiday Feb 14

(L_R) Jennifer, Lacey Mae, Me, Steve (sil) Shannon, Mollie, Ishbel
 Family Breakfast pre Xmas shopping

(L-R) AJ , Marie, Ishbel, Charlie, Holly, Peter (sil)
Family breakfast pre Xmas shopping

Tom and Ishbel

A very Merry Christmas to you all

Mr Fat: It's been a while.......

It has been so long now since posted any kind of a blog post and I felt that you at least needed something from me just to remind you that I haven't yet died......

I have been so exhausted over the last few months that I really haven't had the energy to do much, haven't even read any of the many books I still have in my kindle and so many of you wonderful authors are publishing great books and I am buying them and not finding the energy to push the on button on my reader, sheesh ......

Then I started the chemo again a week ago as the tumour seemed to be getting bigger and as usual the actual day of the gunk input was ok and it gave me renewed feeling of energy. ALthough having said that, I did get the right hump over the wait for treatment on the morning and unfairly started to take it out on the nursing and ward staff, but it's not their fault that they are understaffed and there are so many of us cancer stricken old farts hanging about  It even seemed to 'cure' the gagging and choking effect I was prone to every time a morsel of food passed from my mouth into my gullet and that in itself was a relief.  Four days into it though, last Friday I phoned the cancer specialist nurse as I wasn't feeling at all well, lethargic, nauseous, completely run down and in pain.  I was in work, as usual, but ended up going home I just couldn't cope and it went down hill  even more in the afternoon.  I really thought I wouldn't make it to the end of the day, never felt so horrible before and the last time I was on the chemo I was bad and came off it but....

After speaking with Mel the cancer nurse and her reminding me about ALL of the meds ... shit I have so many of them I forgot what I had and for what symptons.  There is one I call Dom Perignon, sounds like it but it's domperysomething .... anyways this is to counteract nausea.  I also have tablets for constipation, have been taking them but then I ended up with diarrhea but hey, I have pills for that too.  Anyway I didn't feel any better Friday and was still at deaths bed on Saturday but began to make a gradual improvement and continued to do so on Sunday but gawd was I pleased that Ishbel took the weekend off to look after me and of course Marie, Peter and the twins Holly and Charlie turned up to cheer me up.  The only problem with that, having gone through life as a big tough scotsman with no outward show of emotion I find it difficult to not just start blubbering and just seeing the kids and the grandkids turning up is enough to turn me into tear streaked numpty.

Oh, I've posted this, as you can see under the Mr Fat page but I can report that he has left the building ...... which everyone but me is getting their knickers in a twist over.  Yep, lost just over a stone and a half in the last three weeks and had a visit from a dietician while I was in getting gunked up last Monday.  Infact they are so concerned he told me I have to start bulking up again... WTF says I.  You do realize that for the first time in 15 years I have just seen John Thomas, if you think .......

And he says, yes very good but a lot of good John Thomas is going to be to you when you are dead. So, I want you to eat more;

Mashed potatoes with extra butter and grated cheese Double cream full fat yoghurt chocolate .....
Thick Gravy on meat dishes
Salt
Sugar
Full fat Milk
Shakes
Bread lashings of butter, toast

Now for some, that is an invitation to heaven I suppose, but for me, to be honest I'm finding I am full after a couple of bites, providing I can get it down that is.

And another thing why is that I feel good enough, well most days anyway to come into work, but at the weekends I feel shitty, when I should be chillin and relaxing and then there is the pee problem. What's that I hear you ask? Well let me tell you.

You know this chemo lark.  They want you to get it into your system but perversely they also want it out again as soon as, I mean WTF again.  Well you know me I never argue and alway, always do as I am told. So I have to drink gallons of water.  Not a problem, I like water and so I drink gallons of the stuff anyway.  Now tap water is good enough for me, not Ishbel though she has to have bottled water, just wait till I'm gone and she has to hump it back from the shops, we'll see how long that lasts then... anyway I digress

So, Take the chemo, drink gallons of water and flush the system.  Fine and then that's where if there is a god  he is messing with me again. like the feeling shit at weekends when I should be partying...
I'm drinking gallons of the stuff sat here at my desk in the office but do I need to keep running up and down the corridor to my private loo, yes well what can I say I deserve it.  No, I am not running up and down to the loo although with the amount of water I'm taken I'm thinking there must be a problem there too.  So off home I goes and of course when I get home, it's time to take the next bunch of chemo meds so I'm drinking buckets of water again and do I need to run up and down the hall to the loo, no I bloody don't! But what I do do, is get into frigging bed, close my eyes fall asleep for an hour and then the first of my three or four 5 frigging minute visits to the loo starts... I mean WTF is going on there and who is messing with my head and body sheesh, I just cannae win .........

So after a frightful weekend I have been back in the office today and felt much better, been run ragged with that bloody contractor again and not stopped, but it has been a good day so the sun is shining and all is rosy in the garden again.  The chemo? I did say to Ishbel and the kids that I was going to phone the hospital and tell them to stuff it where the sun don't shine, but I'll give it some more time.  YThe amelioration from the gagging has been good, but it's beginning to creep back again. so maybe the chemo has had an immediate effect but may not be doing all it might be... bastard, but I'll try and persevere and Jules is telling me to try radiotherapy, which wee Ollie the oncologist has also talked about, so I'll discuss that with her next week and by then it will soon be time to go back to Southend for another round of gunk input AND SOUTHEND HOSPITAL IF YOU ARE READING THIS DON'T HAVE ME FRIGGING HANGING AROUND COS I'M NOT NICE WHEN I'M GRUMPY.

Other news: None. Well apart from the fact that we have had astro turf done in the back garden and all the kids love it, including the neighbours kids and tip good quality astro turf seems much cheaper from the carpet shop, I know, I know, than from the garden centres in fact in south east Essex can't give enough Praise to MD Carpets for the job they did with ours.

Steve, Son in Law No 2 who lives down in woking came over and took me to hospital and Peter son in Law No 1 took time off from his work to come over at the weekend.  I said it earlier in the week, life has been pretty good to me, pretty shit upbringing in terms of an abusive alcoholic father, but the hardest working caring mother as compensation.  Ishbel who has put up with me for over 38 years, and I can see the pain in her eyes when I just want her to cuddle me, but not too tightly as it hurts, and three of the most loving, caring and hardest working kids, in Marie, Brian and Jennifer  it would be any parents privilege to have helped bring into this world and from them we have been given 5 beautiful intelligent* loving grandchildren and then the added bonus of two of the most hard working sons in law that you are ever likely to meet in Peter and Steve who clearly love and adore their partners and their children and work all bloody hours to support them - guys take it easy once in a while will you - I love you all dearly and I want to be the first out the door

*intelligence and tattooed eyebrows I'm sure there is a contradiction there.........

So a few photos of what's been going on recently

Fun in the garden before Astro turf

The new Astro turf

Ishbel planting pots but no pot for my pain!

Our first Indian Restaurant Lacey loved the popadoms!

Peter, Holly and Goalie Charlie K 

Mollie loving the hot towel after the meal

Lacey Mae, Mollie and Shannon aks KatNip

Mollie teaching Lacey Mae 

Grandmama and the darlings 

Daddy Steve and cuddly Lacey Mae

MY JENNIFER with curls and.....

Charlie beginning to outgrow Holly 

Daddy Peter also being shown how to lose at archery

MY MARIE

Two Birthdays in one....

Raspberry and meringue with coulis for both

You all probably know that the British queen has two birthdays on two different days and to be honest I have have never been that much of a fan of UK royalty to be bothered to ever find out why that is, but there you go.

Well I too, now have two birthdays to celebrate but, unlike old queenie my birthdays fall on the same date so it's double celebration time for me.

10th May is my official birth date and so yesterday we celebrated me reaching the grand old age of 58 (I think) and I spent the day chillin' with the gorgeous one, Ishbel.  Mind you after a cock up with a security company this week I thought it was going to be a day spent at work but Sharon who works for me and who herself celebrated her birthday eight days before me and was officially still on holiday yesterday, passed the workplace came in and sent me home covering the shift herself ... bonus payment next month I think!

So, got home, promptly fell asleep for an hour and a half and then woke up and went out with Ishbel.  We didn't get up to much as I have this problem that we assume is linked to the problem in that if I am on my feet for to long or walk for any distance I start to get a pain right across the top of my back that soon spreads to the whole of my back and quickly begins to feel like, I suppose, a sinking submarine would feel as it got to depths that would soon begin to crush its hull and it implodes in on itself.  I imagine if that happened to such a vessel and it was capable of feeling pain it would be extreme and excruciating, well that's how I get.

It happened last week too when, with my Big brother Jim and wee wifey Marie up from Liverpool and I decided they, me and of course the visiting angels, Mollie, Shannon and Lacey May along with mum and dad Jennifer and Steve would all go for a walk through the local woods and then to the park and I just barely made it home before collapsing in the kitchen in agony, it wasn't nice and it's the first time that my family had seen it this bad and I felt more sorry for them having to witness me blubbering, than I did for myself.  I know although it is bad and I crave for it to end that I also know that as soon as I get sat down with a glass of water and a few painkillers it doesn't take long for me to make some sort of recovery.......

Yesterday, we decided to do a 'little' bit of retail therapy as I received gift cards and vouchers in cards, so we headed over to Bluewater across the Thames via the Dartford crossing. It got a bit much for me and I could feel Ishbels' arm stiffen as we walked around holding hands as she attempted to stop me from going down, so we curtailed the shops and headed to the restaurant and spent an enjoyable two hours in there recuperating and eating a damn fine meal with me chomping on meds throughout to prevent one of the gastric attacks I suffer from, no one stared, so it worked.

All in all it was a good week and day

The second birthday I was sharing with myself was of course my wee tumour.  It was the 10th May 2013 that it was officially confirmed that I indeed did have cancer, so, although the prognosis hasn't been great, who cares, life still goes on and here is to sharing many more birthdays with my symbiotic friend, because as long as we celebrate it WE ARE LIVING and one really can't ask for much more than that on a birthday

Granny Ishbel and Grand Aunt Marie teaching Mollie ball tricks

Lacey Mae and Shannon with Grand Uncle Jim

Super Mollie foreground Super Jim background

Mummy Jennifer outdoing Mollie

Pink Veal and salad for me 

Sewing machine shop front that doesn't sell them!

New outfit!

Sea Bass for Ishbel

Mollie, will I sit on Grand Uncle Jim?

Yes I will

James Adam Wilson Stronach aka JAWS, but I'm better looking!

Cancer Sucks!

As you may know by now I have been diagnosed with cancer which, they tell me is terminal and apparently if I believe them, I have seven months left of the year or so left that the nice doctors gave me..... yeah, right says I; I intend to be around for a while yet 

Anyways, I saw this video and it makes me SMILE more than usual and I'm sure even if not a cancer sufferer, it will make you SMILE too.  The sheer joy of life and the beautiful smiles of these gorgeous ladies is well worth a visit and a revisit and a repost.

The message is:

DON'T LET IT GET YOU DOWN 

and 

SMILE 

DEATH CAFÉS and that unmentionable topic

Saw a tweet this morning from The Guardian which took me to an article on Death Cafés, check it out,   http://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2014/mar/22/death-cafe-talk-about-dying?CMP=twt_fd , 

(c) Cartoonnetwork

it makes for interesting reading. It's all about the growing movement of a cafe, whether it is in an actual cafe or in someone's front room, where folk gather to talk about and discuss Death!

A morbid subject you might think, and about a year ago I might have been of the same mind. But, since being confirmed as a person with cancer in May last year and then being giving 'about' a year to live from last September, death is a bit of a constant companion. Oh, don't worry too much about me, as I've said in other posts, I have come close to this on a number of occasions before, and told Mr D to go take a flying F*^k and he has, and I'm treating this little episode in exactly the same way.

Having said all of that, you do have to also deal with the reality of it all, and things do need to be discussed within the family, with friends and of course with work.

I think I caused a wee bit of upset within my close family circle over the news of my impending death as I accepted it and thought we should discuss it openly, even informing the Grandkids, aged 10, 7 (3) and 2, although of course the latter was excused as it would mean nothing to her until she noticed I am gone when that finally happens.  There were tears especially from Ishbel who steadfastly refused to enter into any kind of discussion on the mater at all for weeks and weeks and even now, still has difficulty in talking about it.  But it has to be done as things do have to be sorted out:

Wills 

(c) cartoonstock,com

Finances including  mortgage, insurance, shares, premiums bonds that may be in individual names, pension funds 

Transference of certain accounts, that in many instances are in the male partners name such as Telephones, cable TV, water, gas and electricity, mobile phone accs the list can go on

Funeral

Notes on how to change the telly from TV to Wii to DVD not everyone knows how to do this .......

So, as you can see there can be lots to talk about. 

For example, when I was 'thrown' out of the Army I received a military pension after being shot. The thing about this pension is, it only survives as long as I do, or until I reach retirement age, and then I lose it. So, if it's the former, Ishbel needs to know how to contact them to let them know I have shuffled off so that payments can be stopped, otherwise when they do find out they just go straight back into the account they were paying into and take whatever overpayment they have made in one go, regardless of the surviving partners financial state of affairs.....

Now that wouldn't be a problem, if the surviving partner has forgotten, and as long as the partner dying has taken out life insurance to leave the survivor comfortably off, after paying off the mortgage and any debts you might have had, but if you haven't done that THEN SORT IT OUT, NOW.....

Honestly people, if there is one thing you take away from this post, it should be that YOU NEED SUFFICIENT INSURANCE COVER, not just enough to pay off the mortgage and debts but enough to leave the surviving partner with a comfortable standard of living.  

(c) carttonstock.com

Regrettably, I haven't done too well in that area. That's not to say that we haven't got a few pounds stashed away and there is a cushion there but Ishbel is not going to be able to become the Merry Widow, partying, dancing and hitting the high spots of Thurrock, after my passing, no, she is going to have to work until retirement age in that miserable shopping mall next to the Dartford bridge/tunnel.  Not that I am advocating that you, the survivor, should stop work after the passing of the partner, as the comfort and support and routine of getting up and out to work and interacting with work colleagues can be just as important as that from family and close friends and in many instances today, family do not always live close by, so continuing to work may be a good option.  But, you could be losing a large chunk of income when one partner goes, if it is the male partner (sadly we still earn more salary than our wives, in many instances) who departs the mortal coil.  

Your mortgage will hopefully be paid off, your debts even. But again you don't get a reduction on your cable or utility bills just because the household has gone down from two to one and these bills still need to be paid along with council tax here in the UK, although I do note on that last one, you can get a 20% reduction on that when one of the household kicks the bucket.... Who says local and national governments are heartless, oops me, I think, but every little helps.

I know for a fact one of my kids hasn't got any insurance, nor her partner. I was talking to a friend recently, they have a very large mortgage it is in one partners name, and one of them isn't insured, bad mistake friends, very bad.  Even if it isn't an illness that grabs and takes you, it could be that you walk round the corner and someone knocks a flower pot off their window ledge onto your head, lights out, dead, partner and family stuffed... SORT IT OUT PEOPLE, TODAY, PLEASE.

And of course the final message here is, Talk about these things, they are important 

But do keep SMILING xxxxxx

Dying, it really can be frustrating...

So, you all see the photos of me that I post from time to time and let's be honest, even almost a year after being initially confirmed as a person who has cancer I still look pretty good if still somewhat rotund ....

If the doctors are to be believed I now only have 7 months left of the year they estimated that I have left to live, but again being honest I really don't even think about it except along the lines of, yeah, right.  No, I think I will last the seven months and like the Duracell bunny I'll just keep going on and on and on until one day suddenly the cancer will probably sit up and say, ' hey, this tit is giving me a run for my money so I think I'll up my game a bit and make him suffer!'

Well if that's the case then so be it, but until that date it can go and get stuffed and I will continue to grab onto life and enjoy it with Ishbel, the kids and the Grandkids  and with all you wonderful folk popping in from time to time to keep me company.

Since the day the surgeon suggested it wouldn't be a good idea to operate I have been resigned to the fact that my death is going to come a lot earlier than expected and there is no doubt that I did feel more than a tad down about that especially as the Grandkids, apart from one are at ages where it will hurt them the most, with the youngest Lacey Mae still too young to comprehend what would be happening and even when she missed me she would still be so young that she would soon get over it and forget me apart from the silly stories her mum, and sisters would relate to her to try and remind her of me.

Death is not something, we as a family dwell on too much apart from me using it as a means to an end ... 'what, you're kidding, I can't do that or go there, I'm dying, give me a break...', usually to be told to piss off by Jennifer with the added rejoinder, you're taking your time then......

And then I get the call from the GP 'a surgery from a new nurse inviting me in for my annual asthma check up. On learning that she is new I ask if she has checked my records, no, not really, she replies. Oh, right, says I, so you don't know I have terminal cancer and there is not much point in me coming in, is there.

To be honest and thinking about it later I felt like a complete shit putting her on the spot like that but again I have never really been a fan of that annual check up. My first question to the old nurse ( who wasn't old really) was usually, have you found a cure yet for asthma. No, she'd reply. Then why am I here then, I've got better things to do with my life than take time out to come here ONCE A YEAR ...... yeah I know what an arse hole,  I know, I know......

And then I have to attend the hospital every two months at the moment and these oncologists are busy folk, there seems to be a lot of cancer patients to see and I imagine that it wears them down.  But with the cancer, apart from attending Broomfields hospital, there was just something about that place that really got to me and my irritation did show through, but generally I have accepted my fate and just get on with it. I attend hospital, I sit there and feel sorry for some of the others who look close to deaths door and clearly with much further advanced cancer than me and I feel sorry for them BUT glad that it isn't me ...

Not once have we attended the hospital and been seen by the oncologist or registrar anywhere near to the time of our appointment.  Today was typical of that.  Our appointment was for 4.15 and as usual I turn up a good 50 minutes early, a) to get a parking space and b) in the hope that I might get in early! Not much chance of that, but I keep trying anyway. We were finally called to see the registrar at 5PM, 45 minutes after the scheduled time.

It's one of those things and as I said earlier, there seems to be an awful lot of folk with cancer to be seen and I've noticed that depending on how poorly or well the person looks like going in, depends on the time spent with the doctor.  I also imagine as well that where a person is having difficulty in dealing with their situation and maybe tearful , etc, I can't imagine the doctors rushing through the consultation and throwing them out of the consulting room. It's just the way it is.

So then there was this one guy there today.  He looked a good bit younger than me, which also may have accounted somewhat for his attitude, but he also looked about as bad as me and you know what I'm saying here... Not that bad, considering the diagnosis .... So, he had been in there when we arrived. I noticed him as there were plenty of chairs in the waiting room, which was it's usual busy self, but he was perched leaning against the window ledge, staring at the corridor and the consulting room doors.  Eventually one of the nurses spoke to him and the next thing we hear is him ranting at the nurse. 'I've been here for ages, all these others are coming in after me and they're being bloody taken in to see the doctor in front of me. I've only been given 6 months to bloody live and I've got better things to do with my bloody time than to stand here and be ignored ....'

And with that he turned and stormed out the door.

Now, I can and do understand his frustration. You can see from my own experiences above, that I too, along with every other cancer patient attending the clinic, have to sit for long periods and the first thing you do on turning up, you look at the board.  Today it said, 'waiting time for Dr Chan, 30 minutes' but mine was 45 minutes.  Is there not enough oncologists and registrars, clearly not.  Is that the fault of the doctors, probably not? Is it the fault of the nurses, most definitely not?

Obviously I don't know this chaps particular circumstances. And my attitude, again as you know, having been shot, stabbed, crippled, nearly drowned (3 times) and all that as an adult and then of course there was all the near misses I had as a kid, I really was reckless and nearly died on a couple of occasions between the ages of 6 and 12 as I didn't recognise the danger of situations I put myself into, I accepted, quite calmly the news that my days were finally numbered.  Having accepted it, I now just get on with living my life enjoying almost every minute of it and dragging myself out of bed to go to work every day, even when I really don't feel like it.

Will this state of mind continue as my condition begins to deteriorate, I would like to think so, but who can tell.  I just hope this chap comes to terms with his situation, for his sake and those close to him.  All the doctors and nurses who look after me, and him, at Basildon hospital really are there to help and assist and make life as comfortable for us as they are able to and through no fault of theirs, we, the cancer patients, will always outnumber the number of people who are giving every day of their lives to look after us to the best of their ability, training and calling.  They are not there, when we turn up, huddled behind a closed door, drawing our names from a hat, to see who is going to get seen. Some patients condition are much more progressed than others and some have conditions that are much more complicated.

Some of us, need to have the information given to us by the doctor repeated ad infinitum, and in simple terms that we can understand.  This isn't a visit to the GP that you know will only last 5 or 10 minutes and the sooner that poor chap comes to realise that, hopefully for him, he can get on with living his life and maybe, just maybe getting rid of his anger may slow the progress of his deterioration.

BTW: I didn't get to see pretty wee Olivia Chan my oncologist and ended up with tall handsome Ewan, her new registrar, which pleased Ishbel no end as apparently he was delicious ...... Sheesh and all I got was an increase in meds.  ah well, maybe  I'll get wee Olly next time .....

Mr Fat: Thanksgiving

While we in the UK do not celebrate this particular holiday I thought it might be an appropriate time to say a little thanks for all the support, kind thoughts and well wishes I continue to receive from Family and Friends, far and wide. And, for those of you who celebrate Hanukkah too, here's to a happy one of that as well....




I am still keeping not to bad if just lacking in energy all the time and just want to, or rather am, almost permanently asleep. Many would say that's ok coz if he's sleeping, he's not being irritating, unless of course I am farting and snoring when asleep, but then it's only Ishbel and the family who get irritated by that when I'm asleep in bed or on the sofa during a family gathering... but as I am asleep, I don't care.





So, how have I been, well ,as I said, largely fine; had a scan last week and there is no deterioration in my condition as yet and over the last couple of days I have been waking up feeling as if nothing is wrong with me and I could take on the world but by days end I am so knackered and suffering from a sore back I am almost doubled over.  The scan didn't reveal any clues as to why this should be and wee Olivia Chan my wonderful and beautiful Oncologist at Basildon Hospital is reluctant, at this time, to put me back on Chemotherapy after the last time where I was sinking into an abyss of quicksand and so, wants to keep that, along with radiotherapy and whatever else she has in her wee handbag as a reserve.  Oh, just a point of interest, Ishbel came with me yesterday as she thinks Flirting with Dr Chan and Mel and the other nurses may not be conducive to my overall health, in that continued skelps on the back of ma heed fae her, may not knock some sense into me, but would make her feel a whole lot better, sheesh, I jis cannae win......

Anyway, I am to take some steroid tablets to see if that increases my energy levels and I'll probably end up looking like The Hulk or Mr Muscle and of course that will be problematic too if I bulk up and am even bigger than I am now, sheesh glad I will not be required to carry my own coffin at days end ...... but that my friends is a long way away and anyway apparently there is also a candle burning for me in the Cathedral of the Plains too.

It's 28th November today and that means it's two days to my wee bro Johnny's birthday in Coatbridge on St. Andrews Day, I wonder why he was never called Andrew! And three days to December 1st and you know what that means, FUN and GAMES on the official NORAD tracks Santa site before we get to the 24th of the month and I can sit and track Santa on his sleigh with Mollie, Shannon and Lacey Mae who are arriving on 23rd December to spend Christmas with Ishbel and me, oh the excitement is really building to that, especially as Ishbel and I are having so much fun, even if our pockets aren't, while doing the Christmas shopping and NO Jennifer and Mollie I will not be wearing a onsie for Christmas ...... but you may bury me or burn me in it if you like, regardless of what mother says and if you do I want an open casket ........ It's the only time I will be seen in one and Jules, no comment required on that one thank you very much .

Well, that's it for now, sorry to all those blogs and tweets I haven't been visiting I am trying, hush your mouths, I meant trying to visit not trying your patience, sheesh a jis canne win ...

xxxxxxxxxx

Sometimes; but not for me



(c) All cartoons copyright to somebody else 

Mr Fat: An Update and an End Game !

So, I started to write this post yesterday morning and was well into it before heading off to see Mr Jayanthi our consultant surgeon and the nursing staff.  Before I go on, and just to lighten the mood I thought I would sprinkle a few cartoons throughout, because while life can sometimes seem hard, there is always something waiting round the next blind corner that is guaranteed to bring a smile to your face and even make you bust a gut laughing about the sheer absurdity of life!

Angel of Death, take me now, well I thought it was funny and I imagined Ishbel and me in this situation in many years to come but, unfortunately that does not seem to be the case......

So, the meeting Friday.  We arrived at Broomfield in plenty of time for our 2.20 PM appointment only to find Mr J was held up in the wards, me feeling irritated as usual, although not his fault and there are more people than me he has to deal with, it's just that I always have never been able to sit around for anything and there is something about that bloody hospital that apart from the main atrium there appears to be nowhere else inside that frigging building where you can get wifi, aaaarrrrggggghhhhh.  Anyway, I digress.  Mr J welcomed us in, pleasantries were exchanged and then we got into it.  It seems that the Doctor who increased my chances of surviving the surgery, on giving me the results after the recent Cpex test had more than a little over reached himself in the information available and according to MR J and agreed with the Thoracic surgeon who would also be working on me at the same time; my chances of surviving surgery and tumour removal are pretty slim at the most!  Life can sometimes be a bugger, can't it.

Mr J went on to explain that it had nothing to do with my weight, he doesn't care how fat the patient is, he likes to dice and slice into anyone, loves his job, bless, but really it was down to the rest of my major organs not being up to the task.  You'll recall, my first visit to Broomfield showed I had a heart problem, it seems also that smoking since I was 11 has taken its toll on my lungs, who knew,  and during the op they would have to collapse one of them while they were having a good old dig around inside my chest and oesophageal cavities.  It may not have been as bad if I had only allowed myself to get fat but continued to at least keep fit at the same time, apparently my fitness regime like that on the right just wasn't cutting it, Oh dear!

He then went into, in great detail, the problems that I would have if I elected to still have surgery, the main one being that he and the other surgeons really thought my chances of being revived are pretty slim and even if they did manage to keep me alive then the prospects weren't good as it was likely my remaining time could be spent on a ventilator, if I was lucky! "So, I wont, as planned and as I had told everyone, be going back to work within three weeks then, says I........." "Not an option. Says he.  "I wouldn't like to say when or even if, you would be returning to work."

Not good I suspect and many of you are probably beginning to feel sorry for me now, but don't! Enjoy your lives, TAKE MORE CARE OF YOUR OWN BODIES AND LET THIS BE A SALUTATORY  LESSON TO ANYONE READING THIS - TAKE BETTER CAR OF YOUR BODIES WHILE ENJOYING LIFE.

I feel sorry not for myself, well maybe just a little bit, as I really did want, and expected to be around for many years to come. Ishbel and I have only been married for a short 37 years and she keeps telling me that women in her family live well into their 90's even knocking into the century, so while I always expected to expire before her I had hoped for at least another 20 to 30 years of making her life miserable........

Then of course there is Marie, Jennifer and Brian my wonderful kids, even although Brian seems to have fallen out with me for some reason I love them dearly and they make me laugh, often it is gut busting laughter and I in turn, do what all good dads do, I make them groan in despair at another stupid antic of mine.

Mollie, Shannon, Charlie, Holly and Lacey Mae my five adorable gorgeous smart intelligent grand kids who I so desperately wanted to be around to see them grow and develop and get into their teens and go to college and maybe university and then getting great jobs as astronauts, engineers, doctors or computer programming geniuses.  Well I hope they do go on to do some of those things, but whatever they end up doing they should know their Grand dad, him with the big belly and the bald head and the funny face will always be so proud of them and love them for eternity, even when I am not around to see and hug them.

And of course there is family and friends, especially those two bright sassy nieces who terrorise the populace of Inverness on their nights on the town and who can reduce people to speechless dumbassidy (new word) by their witty, cutting and cerebral retorts to the more idiotic of the human species who have the misfortune to be dumb-asses when the girls are around.

Brothers and sister.  We have never been a particularly close family, splitting to the compass points as soon as we were old enough to leave and make our own way with only Jim, the one above me keeping in occasional contact, that's the way it is with some families but there should be no regrets on anyone's part, it's just the way of the world.

And then of course there are the many wonderful friends, truly wonderful friends I have made on twitter and can I just say, if you are an author and you have been writing a series of books that I am reading and you aint finished that series, if you want your computer to crash at inopportune moments or the lead in your pencil to be continually breaking by incorporeal means - then don't finish the series before I pop off. On the other hand ......... just saying ........

Anyway I'm going to wrap up this with the final thought of by not going for the surgery as I have chosen as I really do not want to go in for an operation in the next week or so in the knowledge that I may not wake up again or even if I do I will be dribbling and comatose and wheezing and being a pain in the arse to everyone who come into contact with me, so I am going to enjoy the next few months or year and get a laugh out of every day and so to should you Get on with your lives, enjoy them, love your family and friends and SMILE, I am

oh and now that we have an end game of sorts I am going to try and be more interactive again on twitter and blogs, be warned .....

Love to you all