Much has happened since I last blogged, which has left me quite bewildered, so here goes.
But before I start, I just want to say how much I have enjoyed the Olympics. I was dreading the worst, which wasn't helped by the wrong flag being shown against the North Korean team right at the start, but all my fears were unfounded. The opening ceremony was speciatular, and moving, and funny, and so so enjoyble. It showed all that is good about being British; all our weaknesses and vulnerabilities, as well as our quirkiness - much of my spirituality as well as my humanness, is all about accepting who and what we are - warts and all, and I think the Opening Ceremony reflected this about our Britishness.
It has been great watching the games, although I didnt see as much as i not as much as I had wished, but there have been some great moments, and some wonderful sport. The closing ceremony was also brilliant, and for me it was good to see the sports women and men mingling and partying with each other, irespective of what nationality. We British folk should be proud of our athletes, the Games organisers and volunteers, and of what we have done as a nation.
My scheduled CT scan was due on the morning of 1st August 2012, and the process itself went very well.
On that afternoon I had the second funeral of the week, another burial, and once again I travellled to the cemetery in the hearse. I have started doing this because I can't walk very far, and if I go in my own car I have to leave it some distance from the grave, whereas the hearse goes right next to it. On this occasion I had the attendants laughing because I was telling them how much I like travelling in the hearse, and was going to enjoy every moment of it, whilst I could. There would be the final trip, when I wouldn't know anything about it - but in any case I want a vintage bus to take me to my final resting place. But the men did laugh - as much as they could whilst conducting a funeral.
All continued well infact until 5.15pm that day, when City Hospital Nottingham rang me to say I was to be admitted immediately. Charlotte and Sue took me in, but not before Mark had taken me to Rainworth chippy because I fancied a king rib, and they are the only place in the whole area that do them. At least the condemned man would have eaten a hearty meal!
I arrived at Nottingham City Hospital and went through the wrong door, and had to walk miles while Charlotte parked the car. I walked past maternity and the chapel of rest - and I had to smile at passing the extremes of life. Eventually I got to where I was to be, and they were shocked that I was walking - they confined me straight to bed, were I was to stay, not being allowed out even for the loo.
I was put straight onto steroids, which somewhat perked me up, and immediatley reduced the inflamation in the spine.
Apparently the CT scan had shown that the tumour on my spine (I knew that it had spread there) was pressing against my spinal chord, and they were concerned that I could become paralysed at any moment. Now that was a frightening thought! Surprisingly, I got to sleep quite early, only to be woken up at 1.50pm by the duty doctor who wanted to take blood for testing. The doctor was a charming young man, and he told me that it was his first day. I thought he meant his first day of a long stint, but no, it was his first day as a doctor. I sat chatting with him for a long time, and he was so kind, even if he wasn't as gentle as Charlotte is at taking blood for testing
I went back to sleep until 5.45am when they woke me up again to test my sugar levels and bring me a cup of tea. I still couldn't get out of bed, so an appropriate bottle was brought for my comfort. Later in the day, when I still wasn't allowed out of bed, something like a party hat was brought for further comfort, but that was a joke, and I decided to remain in mild discomfort for as long as I could.
The purpose of my hospitalisation soon became apparent - an MRI scan. I was booked in at 12.30pm, and at the appropriate time, I was slid into another bed, which transported me to the MRI scanner. Quite a long ride, which was fun - again past the chapel of rest, and I thought as long as I keep passing it, and know that I am passing it, I am ok.
Then the MRI scan - my first. Well, the scanner was not built for larger gentlemen like me, but the assured me they had never got anybody stuck in it. In I went - they said I might touch the sides, well I did - very much so - sardines in a tin comes to mind. One question I forgot to ask before I went in - how was I getting out. In I went, and they told me I would be moved to three positions, and I was. I thought I would then be pulled through, but no, I came out the same way as I went in. Now that worried me while I was in there (25 minutes) as I had visions of me being stuck. But no, I came out very easily, like a pea out of a pod. But I didn't like the intimacy with the MRI scanner. When I came out, they assured me they had got good pictures!
So it was back to the ward, again past the chapel of rest, and again I made the porters laugh!
Back in bed, moved to another bay as women were being admitted to the ward, and all is well, even if the discomfort inside was getting a little worse. Still they wouldn't let me get up and walk to the loo! 6pm came, and the registrar who I knew from Oncology visits, came to see me.
"Could I go to the loo" I pleaded with her. She said "I can say better than that - you can go home".
The MRI scan had shown that whilst the tumour was close to the main nerve, it hadn't caused damage, and I could go home and then come for radiotherapy the following week. The actual CT scan, she said, showed little change from last time.
I felt over joyed, and showed it - the steroids were still wizzing round my body, although I did try to be sensitive to those who were not going home.
Sue and Charlotte were on there way to visit me, and mobile's weren't answered - Sue never seems to hear hers!
I was so pleased to be going home - I even went to look for Sue and Charlotte. Well, eventually they arrived. I was eager to know what they had brought me as they didn't at that stage know I was coming home. Fruit? Sweets? Flowers? Biscuits? Drink? Something to read? a gadget to play with? I will leave you to guess!
Anyway Sue took over when I said I had been discharged, and she went into her usual trying to organise me mode - a mode which you know I don't do well. And in the process of her efficiency of packing me, and getting me sorted, I have subsequently realised that my slippers got left on the ward. So home I came, feeling quite tired and very bewildered.
Friday, I had planned beforehand to go and see my mother, but I didn't, and instead I wrote a sermon for the Sunday.
In the morning I was really on a high - although I stopped the steroids the night before, the effect was still in my body, and I simply couldn't stop talking. Sue could have strangled me, so could two of our church wardens who I had long conservations with, so could our Parish architect. By the evening time, I became calmer, and more tired.
By the Saturday evening I was very depressed!
On the Saturday, Charlotte took me to see Mum, and I was able to sleep while she drove.
The radiotherapy department at City Hospital had rung me to say that they had booked me in for radiotherapy on Monday afternoon, so my friends Mark and Kathryn took me as it was a Monday. I was told it would be three hours.
Another CT scan to start with, markers put on my body,(a bit like tattoos of which I am very proud) another trip round City Hospital - this time on a golf buggy type of thing - and yes, we once again passed the chapel of rest, and after waiting a couple of hours in I went. It only took about 15 minutes. I could have gone once a day for 5 days to have a shot, but my Oncologist has pioneered a process whereby I get it all in one go. Kidney cancer does not respond well to normal chemotherapy and radiotherapy - that is why I have had this drug treatment which has worked well. And now the radiotherapy was to zap the tumour to stop the nerve becoming damaged, and then when I visit my oncologist at the end of the month, I will be put on a new drug - Everolimus.
My holiday to Cornwall which was due to start on the 11th August seemed under threat, but the registrar knew I was going, and said that as long as I take it easy, I could go, and I write this on a wet Monday evening in our Caravan on the Lizard Penisular.
People at City Hospital were wonderful - they were so kind and caring, and nothing was too much trouble.
As I lay on my bed, God didn't seem distant, but very close. I was also given glimpses of what is to come - life beyond this world. I have never experienced that before, and it was very positive and very good - even if it is still some way off for me. This prompted me to write the words which I posted on Facebook "If you can see beyond this world, you can see forever".
I have thought long and hard about those words, and I feel that is where I am spirtiually at the moment. Where those words came from, I don't know. I have googled them, and taken advice, but they aren't a quote from anybody else, so I use them in my prayers.
As you will know, I retire on 1st October 2012 - still plenty to do, still plenty of life left in me. But what these experiences have taught me, is just how right it is to take early retirement, as much as I love my job, allowing me to do what I can, when I can, but all the time concentrating on my continuing journey.
