Fireworks and friends

The torchlight procession was lovely and the the fireworks were excellent, the food queue was rubbish. It's the one thing that let down the evening, it didn't flow and was too slow, it's not a massive problem but it meant that I spent more time stood waiting than being with Wendy and the girls.

I felt good Sunday, my legs knew I'd been walking and standing for longer than before, but I felt great. I so looking forward to the evening, beer and chat with my two best friends. The Hillsborough Hotel is a weird little pub which has it's own brewery attached to it, it's the sort of place that has live music. In fact there was a group of people playing folk music in the conservatory at the back while we chatted and laughed and shared stories, some old some new. Mark and Charlie had bought me a brilliant black and white painting, ink on silk, of Stanage edge. Emotive and beautiful it made me think of times walking and biking on the edge with friend and family. trying to catch Mark riding down the bridleway and getting to know Veronica on her first visit to the UK while watching the girls jumping from rock to rock.

It's not big but it's special and it meant so much knowing who it was from. The beer sank really smoothly and the banter was light hearted and witty, we even had a Barry join us which added another dimension as he has witnessed Charlie being tipsy on more than one occasion!

My head was surprisingly good the next morning, much to my amazement, perhaps chemo stops hangovers........not something I'm going to research too much! My second physio session was superb, I was buzzing with endorphins afterwards and wanted to take on the world. Something had changed, be it in my mind or my physicality or both but I worked harder than the week before but it was easier to do. I could lift more and I lasted longer on the aerobic exercises and my breathing was easier too. It just gave me so much confidence and such a high.

My high was tempered slightly by a scan the next morning, a tickle in my throat prompted my to stay and get it checked out. So I spent the morning giving blood and breathing in and out to be told all was well. I have my consultants voice ringing in my ears warning me of being complacent about tickles and coughs. It was no bother and at no point was I made to feel as though I was being an inconvenience to anyone. As I was leaving I had to squeeze through a group of people on the corridor, they were obviously the recipients of the worse news possible. There is a look in the eye, an acknowledgement of the fragility of life. It brought me back to my own reality and that the scan I'd had that morning will bring some sort of closure, one way or another. Up until that point I'd had only positive thoughts about it's outcome, even now I'm having positive thoughts. I've been walking the dog and thinking about work.

It'll be what it'll be.