You never know!

I have just re-read my last blog, which was largely ruminative about how I am going to spend the rest of my life, whether I was going to retire from practice, whether I would get involved in work for Alzheimer's.  I didn't know then that I had bowel cancer.  I had been under investigation for a bit of pain and constipation since October, had seen the gastro-enterologist, had a barium enema which was reported as normal and was waiting for review.  The week after that post wasn't good, with pain waking me at night, and not much activity in the bathroom.  I saw the specialist on the Wednesday and he thought it was time I had a CT scan, and by the Thursday I had an appointment booked for the Saturday.  By Friday I was completely obstructed and admitted to hospital as an emergency, only to find the CT scanner, brand new, had broken down and due to the ash cloud the spare part was being driven from Germany! 

In the event the machine got mended by Saturday afternoon and I was first on the list, and at last I had my diagnosis.  The next day I had open surgery removing the cancer, part of an ovary to which it was stuck, and joining up the cut ends of my colon. After a week they sent me home, and I spent the next five weeks gradually realising that the join wasn't functional.  Eventually I had appointment with a fourth consultant who managed to do the necessary stretch and I am now supposedly fit to commence chemotherapy in three days time.

So - I am now officially retired, and indeed no longer registered or licensed to practice medicine.  I am enjoying spending most of my time in the garden (without feeling I should be reading medical journals), reading light novels, eating and sleeping.  Unfortunately I have  got past the stage where people say: 'should you be doing that?', so I have come through the delightful stage of convalescence and must get to grips with this next stage of my life.

I haven't gone through the 'why me?' thing, we all have a limited life-span and have to die of something.  Given the choice, I would prefer not to have Alzheimer's and have sort of prayed not to get it, so I can't help suspecting this may be God's sense of humour.  That's OK, I am totally out of control here, and can only trust that he will see me through the 'deep water'.  I have been surrounded by prayer, and been upheld and calmed by it. I have no idea whether God plans to show his power by healing me or whether this is the beginning of my particular last journey.  My prognosis, taking account of the chemo, is a 50 - 55% chance of surviving 5 years.  That really puts your life into perspective.  It links with the family tree I have been doing for the last couple of years - all those people living out their important, significant lives, all confined within a life-span.  We only get one shot at it.

What will happen to this blog when I am dead?  Will it be frozen in time on the internet?  There's a thought!  A time-capsule of thoughts and experiences.

Enough!  Mary, you are probably the only person who still reads this.  I do hope you don't find it painful or morbid - I don't.  I am writing with one eye and ear on Jonathan Dimbleby's African journey, and there were clips of the ethiopian famine in 1984.  Now that's a different slant on it! What a good, easy life we have had.  I have had some pain for a week or two, but you can't call that suffering.  Well, let's see how it goes over the next few years.

Darby and Joan

The fact that I haven't posted for weeks doesn't mean we have vegetated, although life is rather different when we don't see children or grandchildren.  I am now suffering my 5th cold since Christmas, and am distressingly deaf with this one.  I had extra work in January at Orchard surgery in Dereham, which helped with the shock of only working one half day a week, but not much extra since then.  I am still thinking my swan song is going to be something to do with Alzheimers and Specal, the method of care pioneered at Burford which I am still sold on.  I get favourable responses from various people who will be involved in implementing tha National Strategy, but it all moves very slowly, and if I keep myself available much longer I am in danger of spending a huge proportion of my earned income on the costs of working: medical protection, GMC registration, accountancy, travel and keeping up to date. 

So what have we been doing?  Well, the garden is not finished, but this has been the first week with a decent amount of good weather.  Over the weekend we have been working on the soak-away next to the playhouse, which will hopefully drain away the roof water from the back of the house.  It used to go into the pond, which was lost to the building project.  A lovely builder who is building himself a bungalow in Larner's drift got his son to bring the digger round to dig the hole a couple of weeks ago, so yesterday I heaved a few tons of broken concrete into it and Dave cut a groove across the drive and installed the pipe.  When we get our breath back we need to finish filling the hole and then pave the surrounding area.  LAst week Dave put up some very superior fencing to hide the collection of refuse and coal bins now sited along the workshop wall.  I moved all my clematis from the central path with the arches, so if they survive the late move they should look lovely by full summer.  I had cucumbers and two kinds of tomato thriving in propagators in     the greenhouse until yesterday, when we were so busy I forgot to take the tops off.  They overheated and everything is dead! 

My other interest in the lastt six months has been making books.  First, the book about my Mum, which I had done by Blurb.com for sibling Christmas presents, followed by 'The Little Wooden House' for the children, to whet their appetites for the playhouse.  I also made a book about the seaside mural on the blue-room wall, so Joe wouldn't be disturbed by the new decor.  I made and bound this one by hand using a method learned at my scrapbooking class.  Then Dave's Mum died and the funeral address was so beautiful I used the words on one side of the double spreads, with the story of her life as she told it to me on the other, together with a collection of photographs collected over the years.  Blurb made this one as well, in the same format as the Trudie book.

During Advent I had gone to our local Christian bookshop for a nativity book for the boys, and wasn't over the moon about the only suitable one I found, so that was my next project.  I worked with Mick on this, as he is running a successful printing workshop with a friend.  He showed my how to set up my desk-top for 'full-bleed' printing, and to send it on to him as a pdf file.  He has produced a sample which is wonderful - makes my water-colours look better than they really are!  I gather my style is 'naive', although at first I took that as a criticism.  I can't see how I can have a style with a proper name when I have had no training and don't entirely understand what I am producing.  Well, maybe that's what naive means!  Anyway, the nativity book is well underway, and Green Pastures has already agreed to have it on their shelves at Christmas.

Before I had seen the finished article I was already at work on a book about when Grandma and Gramps were little.  I started writing down ideas for this in a hard-cover book I was given a year or two ago, but when I actually saw it as a book for little children I realised they would maintain interest for about two minutes!  But making a picture book about things you remember mainly as concepts and negatives is not easy.  There are lots of things we didn't have which our grandchildren take for granted, but how to draw the detail of what we did have!  For instance, we didn't have supermarkets, self-service, pre-packed foods, freezers or electronic tills, but what was standing on the counter?  What did the bins and barrels look like?  I am not trying to make accurate pictures - the ones I have done are a combination of memory and imagination, and with a few exceptions are not representative of our family or our house.  Mick thinks it will not be a book for children but for nostalgic adults of our age!

Today we took time off from both garden and books, and went to Pensthorpe, the waterfowl place near Fakenham.  We had a lovely walk, not worrying too much about identifying the various ducks and geese, but enjoying the sunshine and blue sky which was reflected in the acres of water.  We had lunch there, then home via Fakenham Garden Centre, where I failed to replace my Greenfingers cucumber seed, and Podmore, where the Quadlings were in the 1800s.  It was disappointing, no line of labourers' cottages as I had expected from the census returns, just a few individual houses that looked rather expensive.

Well, this has been a very self-absorbed catch-up, not sure if it is of any interest to anyone except us.  I'll post a nice view from Pensthorpe and close.

Grandma and Gramps in charge

Well, we have done it, and no disasters.  Our grandsons were golden for us; no grizzling, lots of laughter, good night's sleep.  James only woke twice, which was a simple dummy problem: fortunately Mary-Ann had mentioned in passing that he goes to bed with one in his mouth and one in each hand.  I had assumed the ones in the hand were in case the one fell out of the mouth, but our little boy, humped up in the cot and scrabbling frantically with dummy in mouth, settled immediately when his empty hand was sorted.  And this is the child who didn't have a dummy at all as a baby!

Joe chatters endlessly, but was very happy to let us make grandparents' errors when they were in his favour: two or three breakfasts, playdough every evening after tea, letting me choose his clothes in the morning.  James also chatters but unfortunately the lack of consonants causes us some difficulty in interpretation.  This doesn't worry him at all: he very quickly pointed out to me that his toothbrush does not live on the window-sill but in the pen-pot, that his bath was hotter than he likes and that he wanted more cranberry wheats - and more, and then more!

The car journeys to nursery were great fun, the satnav lady providing a whole new vocabulary: 'proceed to the highlighted route', 'when possible, make a U-turn'.  Saying 'all right' in response to the left turn command caused great hilarity, and counting the exits on the roundabouts was educational.  The noisiest game was 'boing boing' as we lurched over the numerous speed-bumps on the private road to the nursery.  We were in the middle of this game when Joe phoned on loudspeak to see how we were getting on, and finished up joining in the boings.

On Saturday we went to Dawlish with Mary-Ann and Dom, after James's sleep.  It was cold but sunny.  The black swans were nesting in a cordonned-off area of the river.  The tide was out and the sun was still on the little beach at the very end of the prom.  Joe enjoyed a bit of rock-climbing, with Mum to coax him up the last bit of the slope, and Gramps to see him down the other side.  Their seats were still in our car, so we had to sing all the way home to keep them awake: they added 'five jelly-fish' and 'ten green bottles' to their repertoire, and Joe suddenly realised that the person calling out 'one fell off' controls the song.  After the third time of all five jelly fish climbing back onto the dish, we just had to start on something else!

We stayed for Mary-Ann's special slow-roasted lamb on Sunday, then had an amazing journey home with no hold-ups.  We miss them already, and won't see them before James and Megan's wedding at the end of May.  Hopefully it will be nice weather and the boys can enjoy the sand-pit and the playhouse.

Thank you Mary-ann and Dom for letting us share your children.  I know you missed them, but I hope you will feel able to do it again some time.

Goodbye to Rose

Rose died very peacefully in the middle of a conversation with Glenys and Sheila on Jan 21st.  We went to Wales last Wednesday (8 Days ago already) and the funeral was on Thursday.  As is the Welsh custom, we took the coffin into the little hillside church on the Wednesday evening and had a short service at 6 0'clock which Bob took.  Joe arrived by the skin of his teeth, having come straight from work and manoevring his motor home up a winding, stone-wall-edged track which is an inch or two wider than his vehicle.  Having got half way up he decided it was not the road he remembered, and reversed down to the road again, only to find it was the right road!  Getting back down again afterwards was not so good - he caught the side door on a sharp bend  and did some more damage.  The last time was when we were all together in Devon last summer - I don't think family occasions are good for it!

The funeral was beautiful.  It was conducted by a priest who knew Rose well, and his address was poetry.  Not only that, he had written words to 'The day thou gavest Lord is ended', a hymn to Rose, for all of us to sing quietly as we sat and reflected.  I couldn't sing, and I don't think I was the only one.  I hadn't expected to cry: it was an expected death, and peaceful, and she was ready to go so my overall emotion was one of thankfulness for a life that had come to completion and left such a legacy of love.  But beautiful words always make me cry, and there was no despair or anger in the tears so I guess they were good ones.

Roy, Joe, Luke and young Dav carried the coffin into the churchyard, and we were very proud of them.  It was a harder thing to do than they had imagined, both physically and emotionally, but we were all grateful that she was lowered into the ground by those she had loved, and who loved her.  She wanted to go to Joe, and she has, and her earthly remains now share the little plot of Welsh hillside where his were laid 19 years ago.

The church was packed with family and friends from far and near, and with local people who had come to know and love her over so many years.  We adjourned to a local restaurant, Tregwyllan, for a superb tea and many conversations, memories and renewed acquaintances.

Dave and I stayed on at Clogwyn until Sunday. We had intended to help with the inevitable clearing up after a death and a big family do, but Sheila and Bob were really just wanting to flop and unwind, so in the end we mostly helped them with that!  Saturday dawned bright and sunny, and we all went out to Seiont Garden Centre just outside Caenarvon.  We did buy some odds and ends for the gardens, but primarily we went to sample again the excellent cuisine of their Mill Restaurant.

The journey home was again spectacular if somewhat long.  There had been snowfall overnight, and the first half hour was spent taking repeated runs up the slope to Cefyn Gwyn and slithering back again.  Roy and Rachel had tried to get their car up to leave it at the bottom of the lane ready for her night shift at Aran Hall, and they were stuck too.  Roy went to get buckets of sand, and young Dav appeared with a bucket in each hand.  I only saw him stop once, but when I tried to take one of the buckets from him to sprinkle ahead of our tracks, I couldn't lift it!  What Rugger does for a lad!

We set the satnav to 'easy route', assuming that would take us via the A5 rather than over the pass, but after an hour and a half we still had 232 miles to go, and when we got round to retreiving the map from the boot we discovered we were so far North we were on the same latitude as Joe and Sal.  We had been thorough a blizzard, and travelled on some snow-packed roads, so a cup of tea and a Staffordshire oatcake seemed like a good idea.  Thanks Sal!

The snow cleared by the time we got to the Toll, and we saw hardly any until we got to Norfolk, where there was still a sprinkling.  Dave had stopped for me to take photos on the last journey, but this time I had been warned that we were going to keep moving whatever happened.  I am really surprised at how good the photos through the front screen were.  I remembered to set the camera on landscape so it didn't focus on the drops on the windscreen, and actually I think they are quite atmospheric because they are so obviously what we experienced as we went along.  You can get a snow-scene from the internet, but not the snow-scene we were driving into in our car.

If you think this blog is unduly detailed and reflective, consider that my annual appraisal is due in just over a month, and this is my study morning.  Remembering last week is much more rewarding than falling asleep over some irrelevant article in the BMJ!

The photos of the tea at Tregwillan are not too bad.  I could have done with a wide angle lens to get more people in, but it gives a flavour.  The last ten photos on the link are from Dave's camera, so go back in time again. Have a look.

Love to all, and a million thanks to the family at Clogwyn for all their care of Mum and for your fantastic hospitality.

http://picasaweb.google.com/daveandannebasketts/WalesFuneral#

Clogwyn, Jan 09

We were very doubtful about travelling to North Wales on Friday.  We still had snow laying about here, and felt sure there would be plenty still over the pass.  In the event the fog was the most worrying, but it disappeared after Shrewsbury.  The Satnav directed us by Welshpool and Dolgellau, which was tedious but efficient.  We never did find out why, although some people had heard the pass had been closed.

We were so glad we went.  Dave's Mum is now very frail, eating nothing for nearly a week and spending a lot of time quietly contemplating in bed.  On the Saturday morning however she was able to walk with help to the bathroom and have a wonderful bubble bath, then sit in her recliner for the rest of the morning.  We had lovely chats in small bytes, and she was so pleased to see us, especially her son.  When I asked her how she was going to spend her morning she said 'Dreaming.  Lovely dreams, all the lovely times.'  Her body may be winding down, but her mind and spirit are working well, and it was a privilege to talk to her and hear her sharing some of her thoughts about the joy of going to be with Joe and the wrench of leaving behind all the children in the middle of all their doings.

It was a real family weekend. Mum is needing a lot of physical care, and the household is on hold while she does her dreaming and greets her visitors with pleasure and concern for their journeys and well-being.  We didn't attempt to do anything exciting, but just enjoyed one another and revelled in the 'time out'.

Rachel checked the traffic sites and a friend in Trawsfynydd on Sunday morning and ascertained that the pass was clear.  We travelled through a winter wonderland to Shropshire, where the green fields showed no sign of the recent snows.  Lunch at Dobbies in Shrewsbury then a straighforward uneventful trip home, arriving around 6 o'clock. 

Christmas

Christmas morning was very special this year.  Both boys enjoyed opening their stockings - Joe in our bed because James was still asleep in Mary-Ann and Dom's, (taken in in the early hours to shut him up) and then Joe helping James when he woke up.  Big Joe was in the annexe and was full of cold, but the rest of us made it to church for a short service at 10 o'clock which was very child-orientated.  Joe amazed us by charging up to the rostrum with his wiggly centipede and speaking into the mic.  He then stayed there and wandered about with total lack of self-consciousness to see what the other children had brought!  James careered up and down the aisle stopping for various cuddles, notably with Ian Clarke.  Dinner was on the table for about twenty past one.  James was having his lunch-time sleep but Joe tucked into everything, including grown-up accompaniment to Christmas pudding.

We did the main present opening in the annexe, where we had a third Christmas tree.  It seemed strange without Mum, she always loved to see the children opening presents, and giving us her generous gift in a Christmas envelope.

Sally joined us on the 27th and we had another Christmas dinner, and more presents.  George the dog had been a bit restless without her, but settled down well after that.  He had a few eyeballing sessions with Daisy, but she just stared back and parked herself under the tree in the corner of the living room.  She was a bit bewildered that her Science Diet on which she normally grazes throughout the day was nearly always empty.

On Tuesday we went to Holt Country Park after lunch.  The car-park was still covered in packed ice, and we had difficulty keeping our footing.  The children had slept in the car and had to share the buggy, but by the time we had walked and climbed the lookout tower they were ready for the playground.  Joe had splashed through an icy puddle and his trousers were very wet but it didn't stop him enjoying every piece of equipment.

On Tuesday evening Mary-Ann and Dom cooked their wonderful slow-roasted lamb with garlic and rosemary.  Much appreciated you two.

Joe and Sally went home on Wednesday, and after 7 days of superb home cooking we succombed to an Akaash take-away, which was also superb.  Mary-Ann and Dom and the boys left us at 9.0 on Thursday and made good time home so hopefully they won't be too reluctant to travel this way again. The house is very quiet, with collections of left-over food and rubbish that won't fit in the bin.  We have eaten with Dot and Rodney and spent a sleepy evening watching TV before toasting 2010 with champagne and watching some very good fireworks outside.  We have figured out that if we make up our solid fuel heating the same as usual we should be able to get at least 2 hours of lie-in tomorrow.  I've nearly finished my champagne so it must be bed-time.  I shall probably read this tomorrow and need to edit it, but I am going to post it anyway. 

Here's wishing my occasional readers a wonderful year in 2010.

We are SO excited about Christmas.  The boys room is nearly done, and we are very pleased with it.  The boys have had their book about the Little Wooden House, and pdf version of the Day at the Seaside which is meant to prevent the new mural on the bedroom wall being too unsettling.  I have been to my scrapbooking session all day, and one of the things I did was bind the pages of the Day at the Seaside book together so they can have a paper version of that before they come.  Mary-Ann rang yesterday and said that they should be able to come on the 23rd, possibly early in the day, which will effectively give us two extra days.  Apparently the boys have enjoyed readig The Little Wooden House, but haven't yet twigged that it might be real.

I have had so much fun with all the Art and Craft projects, and now feel quite bereft.  I have been making pages for Dave's scrapbook today - all about motorbikes.  I had bought some 'grunge' paper and stickers and they have worked well and prevented me feeling too disorientated by scrapping something that frightens me to death.  Actually, when I came to remove the photos from Dave's old press cuttings book, there was a picture of me in leathers and carrying my motor-bike helmet, so I can't really complain.
  Mary-Ann decorated the Christmas tree with Joe today, and the boys were pleased with the birds we bought as this years heirloom Christmas tree baubles.  I love the idea that they will look forward to this every year, adding to their collection with each year that goes by, and even when we are dead they wil be able to enjoy the baubles we chose for them.  I can remember the excitement of getting out all my Mum's collection of tree decorations each year, and even though some of them were past their best we were aware of the history, the difference in the old baubles from the ones we might buy at the time.

I am waxing philosophical so time to stop.  This is really to crystallise in my mind that the time has come to stop doing creative and start cleaning and cooking.  So next week is going to be different.  The turkey, ham and salt beef are ordered, and we are saving our Tescos stamps and tokens to make sure we can give everyone a really special welcome.