These pictures belong to yesterday's blog, which should really be read first.

I tried to send Joe a photo of our Indian meal and couldn't do that either.  I then realised I was trying to send them from a zipped folder that I made to send to Mary-Ann.

This is Joe with my laptop, playing computer games I didn't know I had with Sally's help.

And this is us having our second main meal of the day and enjoying every mouthful.  This time we were with Sally's family: at the far end are Jodie and Ben, and beyond Joe are Jen and Rich.  The end wall of the Indian restaurant is a mirror, so the impression that we are eating in a very long railway carriage is entirely false.

(I have updated my garden page today with a couple of photos.  You have to scroll to the bottom of the page.)

Twixt chemo and CT

I can't believe it is nearly a month since I blogged.  It's a funny old time now.  I didn't expect to have any anxiety about the CT scan and the appointment with the oncologist a week later, but I have to admit I have.  When I embarked on the treatment it was presented to me as the next stage of treatment, I was warned about some of the sideeffects, and although the prognosis was more or less 50/50, I felt fairly confident that the cancer had been completely removed and we were simply playing safe with the lymph nodes.  Since then I have had a wide range of symptoms from my guts, the side-effects have extended from one treatment to the next, our friend John has only months to live (having had his bowel and prostate cancers diagnosed by screening), and the last two cycles of chemo were so debilitating that I do not think I could agree to any more even if the CT scan shows I need it.  I am being pathetic I know, so many people are going through far worse, and with less support.  I have noticed a cycle of mood as well as physical symptoms, with despondency and foreboding setting in during the third week.  I know now that this is when the blood values are at their lowest, and the steroids I was taking on the 21st day to protect me from reaction to the infusion were a real pick-me-up.  Of course, I didn't have the steroids this time, and no-one to ring me up  and tell me how the bloods were and ask me how I was.  I really thought I was going to be back to normal, and the numbness that has settled into my finger-tips is a constant reminder that I am not.

BUT we did have a lovely time in Stone, and apart from falling asleep during the evenings after a glass of wine I was not held back from anything we did.  I read to the children on the two mornings, starting before seven, then got up with them and gave them their breakfast.  We did a geo-cache walk that JOe and Sally had done before, Sally simplifying it for the boys so that they walked round the Downs Banks looking for red signs, and a bridge over the stream (with a troll living underneath who fortunately had gone out for the day) finally discovering a metal box under the leaves which contained various treasures.  The boys both left a dinky car, and Joe took out a strange white wand.  When James had his turn to choose he chose Joe's yellow car, so it didn't stay there long!

We all had our annual visit to Trentham Gardens, and the four Knees had their ride on the carousel.  Mary-Ann looked like throwing up, but the boys were starry-eyed so it was worth it.  It was getting dark, and the lights down the walkway and in the garden centre were magical.  A chinese take-away and various games on the Play-Station inter-active thing (don't know what it's called, but it's like a Wii-fit), rounded off the Saturday nicely.  On Sunday we had a quiet play morning and an early lunch at the Crown and Anchor before the Knees left for Devon.  The rest of us were booked into an Indian restaurant in Stafford, so we had tried not to eat too much lunch.  We really thought we wouldn't be able to face food again that day, but the Indian spices worked their magic and we had a wonderful time and a delicious meal.


Monday and Tuesdays were grown-up days: charity furniture shops and bulk spice buying from the Pakshop. (That really is its name, not us being insulting).  It's a Pakistani supermarket in Hanley, Stoke, which makes the Indian section of Tesco and Schwaartz spices look like a joke - you buy in Kg not grams.

Joe fixed us up with an iRiver which is a little hard drive with ear-phones and a huge memory.  He also had a gadget to connect its output to the car radio (without a plug!) and we downloaded a novel from my laptop that I had previously bought from WeRead4you.  It was a good job we had it, because we made a bad choice of A47 rather than A11 on account of having seen a warning of road closures on our way to Stone.  It was a bad choice because the road was closed without warning at the end of the Peterborough by-pass, with no warnings or diversion signs.  Hundreds of vehicles of all descriptions made a very slow detour through the lanes of Northamptonshire and Lincolnshire, deep dykes without banks or barriers, and sharp bends in roads barely wide enough for two lanes.  We eventually arrived at Wisbech, from where it was relatively straightforward.  We enjoyed our audiobook so much that we unpacked the car and then sat through another two chapters while the fire gradually took the chill off the house.  Apparently our solid fuel central heating had kept the house fairly warm until Monday, but by Tuesday evening it was 'perishing'.  I slep in bed-socks and bed-jacket.

Back at home I am still experimenting with recipes for Dave's Christmas.  I made my own sausage meat with pork fillet, a round of bread and grated apple, with 10mls of oil to replace the hard fat that is normally added.  I thought it needed more seasoning, but surprisingly Dave loved it.  He didn't even c omplain about the pastry made with a mixture of white flour and fine oatmeal, and oil instead of fat.  It was very crumbly, and I think my low-GI aspirations would be better served by a simple wholemeal pastry.  Anyway, we keep trying stuff out.  The mincemeat with no sugar or fat, but a large proportion of green tomatoes was a success and I have some secreted in the freezer for Christmas.  He doesn't know about the green tomatoes yet!  I am considering putting my culinary adventures into one of my little books!  I probably need to wait and find out if we are making any difference to the blood sugar first!

This is a very long blog.  Having had a good moan initially I wanted to make it clear that I am actually living.  In fact I am having a very good life, and have nothing at all to moan about.  We have beautiful snow at present, and more to come later in the week.  OK, my tingly numb fingers and toes prohibit me going out in the cold at all, but the snow makes me feel fully justified, and I love my lazy, 'do it when you feel like it'  life.  I am no better a housewife than I have ever been, but at least I have no loss of self-esteem because of the way it was!,   Best of all, I don't have to go to work and face the fear that I am no longer adequate.  My appraiser always insisted I was OK, and no worse than anyone else, and he loved my paperwork, because I am good at reflecting about what I am doing, and these days that is almost more important than what you do!

Anyway, it was time for me to step down.  I don't regret anything except the loss of income, and we still have 'the plot'.  I have tried to add a photo, but for some reason the ones I want are not coming up on the upload browse.  I'll try again later.

Nearly there

Day 2, cycle 8. 
The last infusion was straightforward, the shortest time we have been at the hospital.  I was not looking forward to it, because I do think there is an accumulative effect, with the tingling lasting almost until the next dose (but no more of those!) and a loss of balance which I put down to weakness of the leg and buttock muscles.  I fell onto my bottom twice yesterday, once because I trod on the handle of my handbag and my ankle went over, and the next time trying to stand on one leg to pull on my trousers.  A foretaste of getting old I suppose.

This cycle I managed to make green tomato chutney.  It is good to know the unripened tomatoes will not just rot on the stalks, but I am not sure how edible the finished prduct will be as I left it to simmer and it burnt on the bottom.  It would have been OK if I hadn't rushed in and given it a vigorous stir, finishing up with black flakes spread right through the pan.  I spent about half an hour fishing bits out, but we shall have to see how fussy the family are going to be.  I think the actual chutney is OK, but I may have to eat six jars of it myself!  I have inherited my mother's reluctance to throw anything away.

Mike has printed me off a sample copy of 'When Grandma was Little', but we both agree the ring-binder is not ideal.  Also the colours are a bit faded, which is either a change to a semi-gloss paper or the random way I saved it to pdf.  I really need a lesson about the technicalities of scanning, resolution, output and and all the things I have hitherto just done as I was told.  There is some tidying up to do, for instance a letter t floating in a hedge that I only noticed in the printed version.  Also the book ends rather abruptly with the Village Shop page.  There is an introduction at the beginning, but the rest of the book is a series of unconnected pages with various themes of things that stick in a child's memory, so it finishes when I couldn't dredge up any more of those.  I have noticed though that there is something satisfactory when reading to a child about the last page, even if it only says The End.  If nothing else it is a good bed-time signal.  The cover is a watercolour rendering of the Whitman family posed outside for a photo, and the back cover is me reading to the boys on the Chesterfield, and I feel the last page needs to link past and present in some way, as the introduction does.  No doubt it will come to me at 4 o'clock one morning!

Dave and I joined up with the Baptist Christmas choir last evening to practice for the carol service on the 19th Dec.  We have four songs to sing, one of which is entirely new and written by one of our singers with music by Graham our pianist.  We are doing a repeaat performance of last year's In the Bleak Midwinter, I Wonder as I Wander, and a version of Silent Night with some rather unusual harmonies.  Steve came last night and I think really enjoyed singing bass with Dave.  If he hadn't come Dave would have been bassing by himself, so they are looking for recruits for next week.

Next Wednesday I am doing a book signing for Green Pastures.  A bit over the top for a twenty-page booklet, but if it helps the sales I don't mind.  I have no idea what I am supposed to write, but hopefully someone will help me.  Both my Tesco's cashmere sweaters have moth-holes in the sleeves, so my plans for casual elegance have been thwarted.  Dave went to the Big C centre on Wednesday with Barbara, our church friend whose husband John is just embarking on chemotherapy for his third primary cancer in 2 years!  Dave came back with a sheaf of leaflets about complementary therapies and beauty treatments, all emphasizing that if you look good you feel better.  Personally I think it is the other way round, but it is a good excuse for a new top for the Signing.  I also fancy a pair of leggings, returning to my youth while my legs are wasted enough to look good in them, but I am too cold for the cropped ones and if I don't buy Petite the crotch will head towards my knees or the waistband will come up to my ribs.  Whitman heritage again!

Next week I have an audiolgy appointment to try to sort out my ability to hear speech.  The following week I have my flujab and then on the Friday we are off to Stone for the family weekend.  Dave and I are staying over until the Tuesday morning.  It will be our first sortie out of Norfolk since February so we are really looking forward to it.

I am a bit wobbly this morning which is why I am blogging.  Dave is trying to get his three services done in good time to get to Coffee Shop at church, get the shopping done (market and Tesco), get the car washed, visit the bottle bank and buy my new top.  I need to conserve some energy for that lot, or I will finish up on the old ladies' chairs at the Tesco check-out.  That is SO embarrassing!