The final frontier 

The final frontier 

Yesterday we paid what will probably be our final visit to my oncologist, Dr Stancliffe. That, in itself, isn’t quite as final as it sounds, since she is handing me over to an excellent team at St Nicholas Hospice. They can call on an amazing range of resources,...
Something (much) more than friendship 

Something (much) more than friendship 

When I was four I fell helplessly, head over heels, in love. Sadly, that love was doomed. But anyone who met my beautiful, feisty, mischievous cousin Birte would, I’m sure, have understood. Birte was born just six months after me, to my mother’s younger sister,...
So who is the carer?

So who is the carer?

Never let it be said that we lead a quiet life. This past week has certainly proved that. It began when I made contact with St Nicholas Hospice – something I had been hoping to do for a long time. And, as I had hoped, they were extremely helpful. Their efforts...
On a scale of one to ten…

On a scale of one to ten…

I have to admit it’s a tad ironic… I’ve talked to my oncologist – the excellent Dr Stancliffe – about the increasing pain and irritation I’m getting from my main tumour. From Boris the Bloated Bastard. And she’s suggested palliative radiotherapy. An...
Hell brings up the rear

Hell brings up the rear

It’s a basic result of my condition (if you’ll forgive the wordplay) that there will be times when it is, quite literally, a pain in the rear. And it has been, quite consistently, for a few days now. Last night was the nadir. Pressure from the tumour had me heading...