All clear and onwards

Should have written this earlier... and want to be more disciplined about writing entries... we'll see if that happens.. consequently a lot has happened since last wrote... cut to the chase... won't leave things on tenterhooks.. I got a stay of execution from the hospital.
... woo, swirling winds sucked back to last weekend. The lady has gone on holiday... rather exotically to Africa... there is some common feeling, that you are supposed to be more adventurous approaching this 50 thing... you know, the list of things you haven't done... and going to Africa is obviously one of those. Though to be honest, while I will miss the lady something... I am not at all jealous of her going to Africa.. she is going with a friend to meet a friend, so I am sure will have a ball ( if there are some photos when she gets back I'll try and throw one in here).
Anyway, I didn't have too much time to think about stuff as I was off on a 'work' trip to France, meaning I had to drive a band half way.. no, look at the map, perhaps ALL the way through France. As this was indeed going to be a gruelling schedule by any stretch of the imagination, I had arranged for two members of the band to do the travelling within France to travel by train, including the singer, hoping it would somewhat alleviate the stress of travelling in the van and early starts...
for us others the trip involved:
DAY ONE - PARIS: getting up @ 4.00am.
Driving to Paris, doing a concert.
Hitting the sack @ 3.00am
DAY TWO - TOULOUSE: up @ 7.00 am
driving to Toulouse - doing a soundcheck, catching an hours sleep, doing another concert. Now here's where the 50 year old takes note, whilst the band plays their gig @ 11.30pm and come off stage about 1.15am before packing their gear and then hitting the bar, I must take stock and go back to the hotel to ensure at least a few hours kip..
DAY THREE - PARIS: up @ 8.00am
and back to Paris... check out this journey - it's fun ;-)
then it's soundcheck and show again before knowing that tomorrow there is the chance of at least a little lie in at the hotel before returning to England.
The trip itself is a great success, though a 'can't win' element of being a manager comes in to play when those who benefit from the train travel say that it could be seen as divisive them getting the benefit of the train... try to point out that no one in the van thought it was divisive and if there was a choice, we'd all be on the bloody train.. or to Toulouse.. PLANE...
of course no-one delved into the real reasons which was, that I sent the girls on the train, thereby cutting considerably the number of stops due to weak bladders, by my reckoning this shaved at least an hour and a half off the journey time.

Monday and it was back to the empty house to have a week of pizza boxes, beers and bachelorhood (sorry, sense that spelling is wrong). Get back to the rather pretty picture of the cat having dropped a symmetrical semi circle of turds around the TV, presumably, to protest at the absence of humans for 3/4 days .. as far as feeding goes, I got one of those timing feeders from Argos for about 15 quid, which meant that me good lady's sister just had to have one visit in the middle of the weekend to refuel the contraption. Which basically has four feeding compartments revealed by a clockwork timer. I discover that the food has NOT been revealed, due to her sadly ommiting to wind up the time - so the turds are obviously the cat's creative protest and she is squealing for supper(s).
Amongst the post is nothing interesting other than my appointment card from the hospital, requesting that I attend on Wednesday morning to get the results of the biopsy. I have strict orders on this one, I have to take someone with me, preferably (from her point of view) one of me ladies relatives - prime candidate being put forward is the younger sister, which is fine by me.
Have to say, that after three days driving I am pretty knackered, which doesn't stop me getting on the computer until 3.00am.. the end result of this is that Tuesday is virtually written off, which I justify by treating as my day off.

Wednesday and it's off to meet me good lady's sister and get off to the hospital for the biopsy results.
They're great these clinics. They give you an appointment of 10.15am, which is basically what they say to everyone, which means that the waiting room becomes like a market in Bangelore, not that I've ever been to Bangalore.. but I got that expression from somewhere. I check in and see my file/papers .. .. it looks a lot more 'used' than all of the others on display... I smile at the lovely American voice that started this latest operation cycle.. they make an announcement... my consultant who I have several evidential reasons for considering to be my rock and roll doctor .. has decided that he could not face today because of illness, he's thrown a sicky which means chaos added to the usual congestion. We are told that if we wish to leave and make an appointment for another day, then we can. I get up to take advantage of the offer but the sister grabs my coat-tail with a "where are you going?" look worthy of her sister.
Eventually my name is called, I stand, wondering whether the sister will be expecting to come with me.. she does. The minute we enter the room the doctor says "good news" .. which is nice.. they then go on to say that the biopsy found nothing life threatening.. I turn to leave and scarper... but before I can, the sister has asked.. a question.... hum
the problem is (and I should point out that it's not necessarily considered a big problem) that there have always been caveats with my confrontations with this big 'C' thing.. so what they say is, that none of the tissues they have found show signs of cancer but there is a 'thickening' of some of the tissue that they will want to keep an eye on... you see, never a 100% clean bill of health.. whatever that might mean. I nod, pleased. Can we go now? great...

I say goodbye to the sister and head homewards. Homewards, that's a joke, as I don't know how much longer it will be home or my home will be with my good lady. I like to feel that the rest of the day is composing myself after the hospital escapades... truth is, I have to go on now.. I call a few relevent people to tell them that there are no worries from the hospital... most significantly I am asked if I am relieved.. the answer is I don't know - I vaguely remembering last time that I wasn't sure what the 'good' verdict would be for me. there is a nagging thought that the problems have only just begun.. where to live, the future .. and how to get the 35 quid to rescue my coat from the tailors... all will be answered.. or not ;-)

Retro bowling on a Saturday night

Feel, that when writing this blog, it might be easy to overlook the little positive things. So gonna throw this one in.
Last night, my working life (music biz) took me to a gig in an unusual concert venue; a retro bowling alley in Bloomsbury. Went down to the soundcheck to settle qualms others may have felt at me going into hospital. Drove so wasn't drinking.. .. and wouldn't have helped on account of still knocking back a reasonable supply of pain-killers.
The concert was actually in the same area as the bowling lanes, which were being used throughout the whole evening. After the soundcheck there was a lull and rather than leave the venue or go home I sat at the bar and had a burger and a coke.. the 'presumeably ironic' Dj was playing Abba and Xanadu by Olivia Newton John. and do you know what, sitting there, I felt happier and more chilled than I have for a very long time... comfortable as a bloke with the runway to 50 in sight, watching the world go by.. whatever.. we know this ain't gonna last .. lol ;-)
took some photos throughout the evening with a view to entering them in the weekly search that the Guardian Saturday magazine has for photos.. but didn't really get a good enough shot. I'll still try n send one off though

The hospital call

Now, the point of this blog is to be about my 50th year, a fairly humourous look at my, to be honest.. not perfect circumstances and to highlight my preoccupation with the concept of 'Sod's Law'... and now it's starting off with a cancer scare and a lot of medical stuff, THIS IS NOT A CANCER BLOG... but of course I could say Sod's Law is that it might be.. but that might be stretching things a bit TOO much.
As per the hospitals instructions, from midnight on Wednesday I had starved and if the drinking equivalent is thirsted, then I had thirsted myself from that time as well. I hadn't known whether I would be kept in hospital on Wednesday so hadn't made any plans. . but I did venture out... a low key visit to a gig in Hoxton to which I had a cursory professional involvement. What this did involve was seeing folk/mediaeval/rock band Circulus .. what with all the thirsting/starving and driving... I only stayed for a few tunes.. but there's certainly a rock element to their folk and was quite interesting - a formidable challenge though having to follow the might Mistys Big Adventure onto a stage.
So venture home and try to distract myself with that nights showing of The Apprentice to which I'm partial.. Alan Sugar is a real star on TV.. though I do have to hold reservations about his current products before I can support him totally... especially being a Spurs fan... we don't forget. When it comes to the "you're fired bit".. rather than opting for the obvious faliure of the programmes premise.. female team leader Jo.. he chops the tall lawer lady .. on account of her. .. well.. being a lawyer.. not fair? .. .yep.. that sometimes is life.

The first call from the hospital comes @ around 9.00am. .. it's the kindly administator boy I heard from yesterday.. and at the moment there isn't a bed but there well could be. Sounds to me that they are trying to push some other half recovered patient out into the street.
Then around 11.ooam I get the call .. it's game on .. and I'm told to be at Barts as soon as I can. My lady is showing particular devotion today and as it is her day off agrees to come to the hospital with me... did I say agree? .. didn't ask .. but there is no way she wasn't going to come.. and although I feigned indifference.. was pleased she did.
It's been a good couple of days for Barts Hospital not just because they seduced me back in there but because yesterday Health Secretary Patricia Hewitt today gave the go-ahead for a Multi-million pound investement to redevelop Barts and the Royal London hospitals as the largest ever hospital private PFI project for a scheme which includes state-of-the-art cancer and cardiac facilities, and when complete will include up to 1,248 beds on two sites. Can't argue with that.
Troops on the ground services at Barts at the moment though are on a slightly more basic level.
I am told that I must go to the Henry Butlin ward and can't help think it's some cruel joke that I'm off to Butlin's.. in fact, the ward isn't the result of philanphropy based on fortunes made from holiday camps (should have remembered.. that was Billy) , in fact Sir Henry Butlin was surgeon to Barts from 1892 to 1902 and became one of the pioneers of medical surgery for cancers.
I announce my arrival and am told that there are no beds in the male ward so I have to go to one on the female side. I am given some paper knickers... and some tights that do the same thing you have to protect yourself against on long haul flights... I am told that the surgeon is waiting but that the anethatist is still with a previous patient... don't feel too good in my tights knickers and operation smock.. looks like I am not going to get to wear the new jim jams after all.
Panic a bit when a serious surgeon comes in and reels out the list of worse possible case scenarios.. won't bother you with the gruesome details.. but one centred around something they were going to put in my throat to help the biopsy, investigation but which might result in infection in which case they would intend to insert pipes into each side of my rib cage to "drain the fluid".... not pleased at all about the idea of that and start to discuss with my lady.. bless her.. she's been by my side through the whole day .. what songs I wanted at my funeral.. this is something I have thought about all in the run up to this 50th year and suddenly when a prospect is flashed through my consciousness like today .. I can't bloody remember... apart from Abide With Me should be one of the hymns and that the congregation (may be single numbers .. don't know) should be instructed to sing it either as a hymn or as Liverpool football supporters favourite song.. whatever.. I want everyone to sing...

I am wheeled away to the theatre.... I am in the loading dock, waiting to be asleep and I can here my surgeon berating his team.. "I have to be in the centre of London in 12 minutes for an interview on Radio 4" presumably this is to commentate positively on the new fortunes of Barts.. myself, I feel like crying out.. "yes, I'm really pleased for you all.. Barts has great sentimental meaning for me too.. but please when you get me in their ... don't rush your prodding about ..because I don't want drainage pipes in my ribs!"
... there's nothing else.. an hour and a half later I awake.. and am being pushed through the corridors back to the ward.... I am told that I have to come back in two weeks for the results and that they will probably let me out tonight unless I show any bad signs....
My mouth is sore but they give me a bunch of pain killers... I am offered food.. i have the easy stuff . .. bowl of soup and bowl of custard... served in stainless steel metal cutlery... reminds me of an article I read this morning about prison food.... bit drowsy with the anesthetics.. as I am still today... I've got to give a big shout out to the lady.. she's been with me the whole time... it's covered a few of the cracks in our relationship .. temporarily perhaps... but it's been good for that... hopefully won't be continuing this story until the results in a couple of weeks.. keep u posted ;-)

Hospital calling

Gotta leap into this one, without you havin' much history.
Needless to say, there is loads happening at the moment. So not too pleased that after a few years since an encounter with Cancer that a new alarm has wrung. At the last check up something looked fishy in my mouth and despite my protestations that it might have been the remains of last nights trout.. the idea of a 'biopsy' was thrown around.
Yesterday evening got a call out of the blue. A nice female american voice.. thought it was something to do with my . what we will loosely term .. working life... in the music business... I was waiting for the results on something.. in the end the American voice was from the hospital.. and she is apologising for the late notice but the surgeon would like to intrude upon me on Thursday... and this being the sod's law blog... I have a very busy week, gigs I am involved with tonight (Wednesday) and on Saturday...
I am told to bring a bag as they may keep me in.... and turn up at Barts hospital between 10.00am and 11.30am... I'll be honest.. it makes me a bit distracted today... me lady is being very sympathetic though, even though she has a busy day ahead at work.. we set off on the tube together.. which is not a usual occurence and so a welcome treat
it is raining in London today
Make it to Barts and the room is packed with patients... there are barely enough chairs.. I give my name and take my place.. it's quiet.. a mobile phone goes off. the tone is some gentle R&B track.. nice.. the owner .. not what you might expect....
doctors, nurses and assistants appear and dissapear calling for patients.. suddenly I hear American voice and the next time she appears ask about my appointment "sorry" she says "it is a bit like a zoo today, don't worry, we know you're here"
to be honest I'm slightly more concerned that I can get out to a lunch appointment.
A doctor appears not too long after and calls my name.. lots of questions are asked relating to my medical well-being, most of which I can answer positively. Then an examination.. he takes the stethascope to my chest and I dutifully breath in and out... it appears he has a concern about my breathing on one side... he goes out and asks American voice if she can have a listen.. ok, don't mean to be patronising but she does appear to be more of an administrator than a nurse/doctor .. "I can't hear any difference" she chirps up.. "sounds alright to me - do you have trouble walking up stairs" .. I reply again in the negative... ok, I'm not the fittest person in the world but can't remember this being a problem.
They tell me, that if there is a new problem, it will show up in the chest X-Ray.. great!
I am given tickets to give a blood sample and get a chest xray... and leave, deciding to go to my lunch meeting and return to do the tests in the afternoon.
My lunch is pleasant enough.. I manage to slip in a "if you have anything approaching paid work that I might be able to do, let me know" and then return to the hospital. Do the chest Xray and blood sample... then I get a message on my mobile from an administator at the side of the hospital that deals with beds... "I'm sorry there, it seems we don't appear to have a bed for you at this point in time". .. this whole episode might just be a wind-up. I get back to American voice and the doctor who had seen me... the plan now is that I return home and mustn't eat or drink anything from midnight... if a bed is free-ed up then they will call me in the morning and the prodedure will go ahead... back in limbo.. this day has not been helpful and it's still bloody raining in London.

The start

This is a blog about my 50th year on this earth. I am pretty agnostic but I do have certain feelings about the existance of sod and an associated law.. this will be the chronicle of myself vs Sod's Law ;-)