tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-84665557344302884082024-03-05T05:00:58.098+00:00the diary of a furballA diary of sorts. It may be good it may be drivle, it's an outlet for me while I have Lymphoma. Hopefully it'll let people that know me and my family to keep up to date without feeling like they're troubling us with phone calls or questions.
If it's angry or sad then sorry but that's how I feel when I'm writing. It'll be who I am warts an all.
My family and friends will feature high on the content as they're my support team, my strength and my reason for living.nick harthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12730378126329491132noreply@blogger.comBlogger131125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8466555734430288408.post-6454886091709103732020-11-11T21:53:00.001+00:002020-11-11T21:53:33.818+00:0010<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhElMjU5i8OsBWg61eyJ1LVvG8IWsXGaQYxUlrYVeOpaDHLzLUI48ttxunM7twEd6G9NlSKZDCyxKzfvpW9iRj_twOjW4iQx-bOFHS4MH0Mu9QyXAWzbN3mqCNV1MaCJG-C20hNaFJ0xhw/s4032/20201010_141025.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1960" data-original-width="4032" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhElMjU5i8OsBWg61eyJ1LVvG8IWsXGaQYxUlrYVeOpaDHLzLUI48ttxunM7twEd6G9NlSKZDCyxKzfvpW9iRj_twOjW4iQx-bOFHS4MH0Mu9QyXAWzbN3mqCNV1MaCJG-C20hNaFJ0xhw/s320/20201010_141025.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div> Ten, ten years, ten years since being told I was in remission. Not partial remission but proper 'up yours cancer' remission.<p></p><p>That's today, to many it's just another day on planet earth, hoping for a vaccine hoping to see loved ones again and hoping beyond hope not to be part of the statistics. </p><p>I was hoping to celebrate this day, do something fantastic or luxurious. Just do something to celebrate having been in remission for ten years, did I mention it has been ten years?</p><p>I haven't blogged since 2014 when we lost an incredible woman, for some reason it hasn't felt right. Somehow I wanted a normal, maybe the normal I imagined or yearned for was BC before cancer. Funnily enough I almost feel that I'm at a place which is similar but different. There are days and weeks which cancer doesn't enter my thoughts, it's almost like it was someone else's story. There are times when, a certain scent of soap or the noise of a drip machine, I'm straight back on the ward being pumped full of stuff which is trying to kill the cancer but not quite kill me.</p><p>There are times when I get incredibly frustrated at not feeling fit or struggling to get fit. There are times when I am frustrated that my eyesight is not as good as it was or that I can't run as fast as my youngest daughter or I can't keep up with our eldest and her conversation. There are then moments when I think, blimey I feel like I'm getting old.</p><p>Mostly though, I feel utterly blessed that I have the option of getting old, with my amazing wife and kids. The opportunities to see them completing school and doing further education be it sixth form or university. Hearing that I am going to be a grampa, before I'm 50. Ooh 50, I'm highly likely to make it to 50, better not tempt fate but I'm living.</p><p>I'm living in a city I love doing a job which I could never have dreamed of, that I love. Living my best life, forget the insta-tube I'm loving my life. Love, luck, hard work and the NHS have got me this far.</p><p>From the outside I just look like a bloke and fairly big, fairly hairy bloke. I have two tiny scars, 3 dots tattoo'd on my torso and that's it for external marking. Internally I have no idea, other than I am probably carrying too much weight and I'm not as fit as I'd like to be. The fitness is a double edged sword, the time and effort I need to put in I also need to use recovering some times. I am sensitive to colds and flu, COVID scares the sh*t out of me but I am being sensible and trying to follow guidelines. I have a pituitary adenoma which means I have to use some hormone replacement therapy, that in turn makes me slightly more at risk of stroke or heart attack, neither of which are on my to do list.</p><p>The biggest scar is the one in my head, the one no one can see, the one I can't handle at times. The one which hurts when you least expect it to. I guess, although I've never been diagnosed, that I have some sort of PTSD. Whether that's right or not I don't know and as I suggested at the start I'm the luckiest so and so alive. I have no doubt I suffer with my mental health, whether it is related to having survived or maybe it's just me. Either way I have to keep doing, physically and mentally. If I get out of balance then I suffer as do the people I love as I can be a right miserable git.</p><p>Life has been incredible, I have coached a girls rugby team, I started playing rugby again at 47! (Retired at 48) I have traveled more than I ever dreamed I would, I have cycled (both muscle powered and petrol) and I have laughed.</p><p>We have a little motto, Love Laughter and Honesty. My wife is the most incredible woman, she gives me strength and love, she picks me up when I need it and keeps my feet on the ground when I am away with some hair brained scheme. She is also the mother of our wonderful girls, chalk and cheese but both amazing in their own ways.</p><p>We used to go to see It's a wonderful life at Christmas, a couple of years ago we stopped. Not because the film changed but it's meaning changed. I used to go and I would sob, I needed the film to bring things into focus. I was scared of letting go of what had happened, I was scared of looking to the future, daring to hope. Daring to live. </p><p>Now I live, I live my life, I cycle more than I did,<br /> I have designed my next tattoo, we are talking about our next holiday, maybe even looking at the future (10-15 years). </p><p>I'm not religious but I am grateful. I am grateful to have the opportunity to live longer than I might have done.</p>nick harthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12730378126329491132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8466555734430288408.post-26922715082431641972014-05-09T17:27:00.000+01:002014-05-09T17:27:01.274+01:00For EveI mentioned in the last post that a wonderful woman was starting another battle with cancer. This time cancer won.<div>
We see on the news everyday the hatred people have for each other or the lack of respect there can be between individuals. We see people suffering because of someones else's actions, be they financial, physical or even emotional.</div>
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Losing Eve has had a massive impact on so many people and at the funeral there was so much love and respect and tears for the loss of someone so loved, it brought back how human beings can be capable of love. </div>
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It is not something that you can make a potion for, sometimes it isn't even something you can explain but you know it exists. Love, as a word, can be used to describe a cup of tea, a painting, a holiday even a pair of trousers. But Love is more than a description it is a sense, a feeling, a visceral sensation which some people never get the joy of.</div>
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People loved Eve because of her way, honest and kind, funny and highly intelligent, a great cook, a superb wife and mother and grand mother, she loved travel and food and exploring and settling down in front of the fire with her husband and shutting out the night.</div>
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Why Eve had to pass away I have no idea, why anyone has to go at a predetermined time is anyone's guess.</div>
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Eve was a brilliant example of living life, getting up and out even when it all must have been really easy to shut the door and hope everything left her alone.</div>
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Partly in that vein but also partly because I've been incredibly lucky in my own story I'm trying to live life as much as possible.</div>
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New years day saw me running down Saundersfoot beach, into the sea, with hundreds of other lunatics raising money for various charities. I had tears streaming down my face, not because it was cold but because five years ago I had done the exact same and over the last five years it wasn't always looking like I'd repeat the feat.</div>
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Stood in the sea with my amazing nephews and brother in law, was a superb sensation. Cold but adrenalin filled, I felt so alive, so lucky. Running back up to the main road I could see Wendy with tears in her eyes, a mixture of emotions so complex it would be wrong to try and explain. A quick kiss and then I ran barefoot along the main road in my wetsuit, no photos exist, passing cars and laughing to myself. I knew how odd I must look and didn't care, my love of life was too strong to worry about image.</div>
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I haven't a clue why or how I got to be so lucky, an amazing wife, two wonderful kids, a bonkers dog and more life to live. Wendy has been encouraging me since Christmas to get fitter for doing a bike ride which I tried last year. Last year I started it, tears streaming down the face again, good job I don't wear mascara, and got two thirds of the way round. This year the goal was to finish it, I have been doing more riding and running, watching what I eat. I gave up alcohol AND chocolate for lent, the first two weeks were really hard but now its weeks since Easter and I have hardly had any of either since.</div>
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My fitness is nearly back to the level it was at before I got poorly five years ago, I don't recover as quickly but I think that maybe understandable. I'm lighter than I have been for five years and my head is in such a good place it's wonderful.</div>
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I went for a walk the other day with mum and she crossed the stepping stones. It sounds like nothing to some people but to mum it was an event which caused elation. As she stood there on the other side the love of life was plain to see. The risk had been worth it.</div>
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So it was for me as I set of on my second Dyfi enduro mountain bike event. A couple of miles of road into the Welsh mountains and then all off road for 45km. I rode down Machynlleth main street, funnily enough with tears in my eyes, with a 1000 other bikers. A feeling of elation coursing through me, tempered with a nagging thought of falling off or breaking something.</div>
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The climbs came and went as did the descents, the food station came as it had last year. The clean up wagon waiting there for people who'd had enough, me, last year. This year I had some food and a chat with fellow bikers or marshalls and rode on through.</div>
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I finished. Just under six hours after starting. I wasn't last, pretty close but I wasn't, to be honest I'd have been happy finishing last. The goal had be achieved. I tried ringing Wendy but the welsh hills made the phone call wait until I was sat on the grass and sheep poo field clutching my finishers mug and crying. Tears of pure joy. Being alive is bloody brilliant and I love it.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxkPtFa2BIcQSqtUOBVkn8-DFuc-6fLEC34pCUCXyL6ScNnvN-4eeF-kormWgOto6Gp4u_G8TvOv1SdVA6kpyVDgt1pWm7iBucrPFDI8dI7-UCTNrejbDwznLOm_71u_HAAGzoahtgfuQ/s1600/dyfi+smaller.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxkPtFa2BIcQSqtUOBVkn8-DFuc-6fLEC34pCUCXyL6ScNnvN-4eeF-kormWgOto6Gp4u_G8TvOv1SdVA6kpyVDgt1pWm7iBucrPFDI8dI7-UCTNrejbDwznLOm_71u_HAAGzoahtgfuQ/s1600/dyfi+smaller.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></div>
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I should have smiled more!</div>
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Photo thanks to Dan Wyre Photography.</div>
nick harthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12730378126329491132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8466555734430288408.post-38153928278842536292013-12-29T22:39:00.002+00:002013-12-29T22:39:32.932+00:00What a year.....My last post was intended to bring people up to speed after my lack of writing. It wasn't detailed nor grammatically brilliant but I thought it was a reasonable summation of my life to then.<br />
This post will be similar I guess, 2013 has been an incredible year for us, Wendy and I have settled into our new jobs and speaking from my point of view are enjoying them. Mine has been hard from the point of view that I am working more hours than I have for ages and some of my days have been longer than I have worked since I got into education. Because of this our work life balance isn't quite as good as it could be but I can not complain at all.<br />
I had the news last week that the hospital don't want to see me for six months! That was a real shock, I'd been feeling under the weather and tired with my hours at work, I really need to remember what I have been through and that the treatment has aged my body quicker than my mind! Six months is something I never thought I'd hear. I thought I'd always be four monthly, six months may sound often to some but to someone who was used to going every other day its a massive luxury, not to mention a huge boost in confidence that the treatment has worked.<br />
I asked the consultant about doing a new years day swim and other than suggesting my mental health should be checked he saw no reason for me not to take part. I took part five years ago and although there is nothing to connect a swim in the sea with a none hodgkins lymphoma it does stick in the mind. Whether I need to do it as yet another up yours cancer or what I have no idea but do it I shall, I do hope it's a little warmer than last time though.<br />
Being utterly selfish I have had an utterly wonderful year. Being me I have had an utterly wonderful year tinged with incredible sadness. The anniversary of Gareth's death hit me hard again this year, I guess it always will. A good friend lost his wife to cancer a year after sitting on our sofa and talking about life late into the night. Then to cap it off one of the most amazing women I have ever had the pleasure to meet has been told her cancer has come back. She is one of the nicest people in the world and her husband is a perfect match for her, mellow and loving. They met later on in life and have lived more in those years than some people live in a hundred. What cancer is and why it happens I have no idea, all I know is that it happens and it takes loved ones. Having been rather close to not telling this story I have come to the conclusion that everyday is a blessing and that everyday is to be lived. I am not saying live every day as your last but everyday has the opportunity to be a good day, to be remembered for the laughter or the smiles or the sunrise or sunset, the feeling of the wind in my thinning hair or the sting of the rain walking the dog, things I can feel when others can not.<br />
I love my life, I will always miss those who I cannot share time with but I will remember them and the times I did share with them. I will cry for those who go before their time. I will feel the pain of their passing but I will remember how they were and the joy they brought me and I will try to share that with others.<br />
I will live my life loving my family and friends and being me, the luckiest man alive today.nick harthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12730378126329491132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8466555734430288408.post-25373380880665249182013-09-17T21:00:00.002+01:002013-09-17T21:00:55.673+01:00The new me<span style="font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;">Firstly an apology, well maybe an explanation not an apology as such. I haven't written on the blog for a long time, just over two years to be honest. This has been for several reasons, the first, misguided, reason was that I thought I didn't need to blog anymore. How wrong I was.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Secondly, blogging while teaching I find odd and an emotionally difficult thing to do. The blog has for me been a vent for frustrations and emotions. If I were to write about some of the challenges and challenging students I faced I would quickly be sacked or in the papers for being unprofessional.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">I have had an incredible time over the two years since posting last, we've moved house, I've bought a motorbike, I've started a new job, Wendy has a new job, Wendy's been to New York (the week the hurricane hit), Georgia has moved to secondary school, we've been to Jersey and Paris and Pembrokeshire, I've got my tattoo, I've taken part in a mountain bike race (didn't finish but got two thirds of the way round a 30 mile route), I've lost a best friend to an accident, Ive lost a dear friend to cancer, I've made new friends, I've tried golf (it's not great but it's not terrible), I've cried a bit, I've laughed so much that I've cried, I've wondered why me and I've felt incredibly lucky.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Mostly though I feel blessed, lucky isn't enough, I have my family. The house we live in now has an incredible view over the valley which I have spent hours looking at thinking how amazing my life is. I have a new job which combines my love of engineering and the joy I find in passing on knowledge. The little adventure into the word of patents and intellectual property with Charlie is working out nicely and I can find nothing to complain about in the world I live in.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Yet until last week something was nagging at the back of my mind. My mind has been the weakest part of my recovery, fighting battles of why am I still alive mixed with I wonder if that pain is something I should worry about or not. I have had counselling which helped tremendously, through that I found that the job I was doing was giving me no room to build my emotional resilience. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Through a conversation with Mark and then subsequent investigations at hospital showed my body was lacking testosterone. A new prescription of HRT (insert jokes here) which will probably last me a life time and I had a new lease of life. More energy and patience and a certain zest for life now comes in a gel which I rub on my shoulders and midrif, no where near the family jewels!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Life had reached, I thought, a peak of balance and contentment. Then last week I went out with some friends from my last job. We laughed and chatted over old times, new times and life in general. I was shattered so left early and drove home, part way I smiled and laughed to myself. I got in and sat with my wonderful wife and cried. We both shed a tear, the thought I'd had was that not once in the evening had anyone asked how I was. There was no reference to my health or hospitals or anything cancer related.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">It was so amazing to be 'normal' I cannot explain how emotional the aftermath of being ill is but I now feel that I'm through, I'm Nick Hart. Husband, dad, son, brother, friend, engineer, lecturer, biker, eater of curry, drinker of beer and lover of life.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Thank you Wend you are utterly wonderful and I love you with all my heart.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia;">Thank you to everyone else who's read this blog, it has been incredibly cathartic for me and I hope not too badly written for you reading it. </span>nick harthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12730378126329491132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8466555734430288408.post-52362078391920978252011-06-22T16:23:00.003+01:002011-06-22T17:03:23.602+01:00LearningHow to be me again.<div><br /><div>I'm sorry for not posting for so long, so much has happened to me and to others. There's been earthquakes and tsunami, unbelievable how powerful nature can be. I can't imagine life in either New Zealand or Japan, talking to Charlie last night in Christchurch and it gives a tiny glimpse of how life can change in moments. I still have stuck in my mind the image of the tsunami hitting the coast of Japan and cars trying to change direction away from a wall of water.</div></div><div><br /></div><div>I'm not sure why I stopped posting on the blog, maybe it was because I was busy trying to remember how to be the teacher I was. Maybe by talking to people I felt that I had my emotional release, more realistically I think I wanted to finish the story but I didn't know how.</div><div><br /></div><div>Several people who have followed the blog and have emailed and texted support suggested that I should turn the blog into a book. I like the idea and started looking into it, asking friends about publishing and talking to really kind people who had all sorts of advice. I got thoroughly carried away with the idea of publishing the story and raising money for charity, maybe I should pursue it more but I need to stop the story and return to reality.</div><div><br /></div><div>Looking back I find the last two years almost fictional, my mind is playing a wonderful but dangerous trick on me. It seems to have blanked out so much of the last two years that unless I'm talking to someone about it I forget it's happened. I guess it's a self preservation technique which works 99 percent of the time the other 1 percent memories catch me up and bite me on the bum.</div><div><br /></div><div>Over the last few months my energy levels have increased, as has my fitness. Up to Easter I felt absolutely amazing, I had built up my attendance at work from calling in once a week to staying in a couple of hours a couple of times and then teaching a couple of hours with another teacher and then teaching on my own and progressing to the point four weeks ago when I took back my timetable fully.</div><div><br /></div><div>At one point in time I was wondering if I'd ever get back to work let alone back to my full timetable, coming up to Spring bank half term I felt fantastic, tired but fantastic. Then I started with the odd ache and pain that I couldn't explain, upper left chest, along with an itchy back and itchy scalp. The itching is something that I ignored when I first started this journey, the pains were what took me to the gp's. Along with being tired my head started to wonder, this time last year I relapsed, the cancer came back. Fathers day last year has a photo of me looking shocking, fathers day this year has no photos of me but if there was I'd look tired but relieved. The scans were all clear, my bloods showed that my immune system is still pretty shot but that's to be expected.</div><div><br /></div><div>Weston park are still at their best, my phone call asking if I could discuss the sensations I was having brought about a series of tests and scans all within two weeks of ringing. I can't praise them enough, they don't even think I'm a hyperchondriac either! </div><div><br /></div><div>I think it has come at a good time, a reality check/slap across the face. I have to learn how to be me, the new me, not improved but still alive. I have had to learn to chill out at school as stressy teachers get eaten for lunch. I have to balance my physical exertion with making sure I can recharge my batteries sufficiently before the next effort. I have to exercise my brain as much as my body and most of all I have to remember how amazingly lucky I am.</div><div><br /></div><div>I have had so much support from friends and family, far and wide. I have had letters from people who have read my ramblings, thank you Gordon yours meant so much, texts and emails. I have to move on with my life and whatever path that takes me down or up! I love my life, honestly there is no luckier person on the planet. I've never written a diary before and whether I write one again is up for debate. Thank you to anyone and everyone who has sat through my drivel. Most of all to my amazing wife, I love you so much and I couldn't have done the last few years without you. Thank you.</div>nick harthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12730378126329491132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8466555734430288408.post-8364986971371680852011-02-03T11:57:00.004+00:002011-02-03T12:17:45.550+00:00NormalI go on about normal too much maybe but it's what I crave and it's the normal things that we haven't been able to have.<div><br /></div><div>For example picking Wendy up after work and driving to a little cafe and sitting drinking good coffee in the sunshine. Walking the dog without feeling like my legs are going to fall off, doing bits round the house (not much but starting.....), looking at school work, even thinking about going back to school. All these things which many people take for granted or don't even consider during their days, these are the things that I have craved and I'm sure many other people suffering illnesses crave their normal too.</div><div><br /></div><div>My head is a bit up and down, I'm petrified of going back to work, it scares me more than any procedure or chemo session ever did. The only reason I can put that down to is that I have control over it, it is me and only me that can be the teacher in the classroom and it is my head and my mouth that get's information into young people, hopefully get them thinking too. When I was having a process done to me I'd accept that it'd either work or it wouldn't, regardless of my input, in this way I found I could accept the processes in a much more relaxed way.</div><div><br /></div><div>I'm itching to get back though, there's only so many times you can look at bike bits on the internet and day time telly isn't all it's cracked up to be, I feel myself losing brain cells as I watch and I don't have that many to start with! I want to get back to being the teacher I was, not the best but I was ok and I had a good rapport with most of the kids and some of the teachers! I'll get there, I know I will it's just how long it takes and how I am in the mean time. </div><div><br /></div><div>I've ridden my bike, I've been swimming with the girls, I've washed and hoovered the car and I feel great. Yes I still get tired, yes I still get scared when I have a cough or an ache and yes I'll probably always have that fear but the hospital don't want to see me of three months so I have to take their lead and feel confident that I'm on the road to normality again.</div><div><br /></div><div>Walking home from school last night with the girls just made me so glad to be alive, the laughter and joy of life that we had was such a tonic. Lay on the sofa with Wend just finished my day off perfectly. Life is good, long may it last.</div>nick harthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12730378126329491132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8466555734430288408.post-83579525446238906582011-01-21T09:54:00.010+00:002011-01-21T10:26:17.119+00:00Up there for thinking down there for dancing<div>Too much thinking and not enough dancing that's my trouble. Another week and another head full of worries, oh and plenty of snot to boot!<div><br /></div><div>The latter has only been presenting itself at night, in the form of coughing fits, the worse making me sick. The best waking me and Wendy up time and time again. I guess the lack of sleep took it's toll on my body but it had a deeper effect on my head, the tired body and the irrational head started thinking that it feels like it did last year when the furball came back.</div><div><br /></div><div>I didn't have any of the other symptoms but my head thought and thought and worried and worried and all of a sudden I'm sinking into how do we tell the girls again, Wendy shouldn't have to go through this again, I don't know if I have anything left to give. So when in doubt give Weston a shout!</div><div><br /></div><div>I left Weston feeling like a complete hyperchondriac, having had bloods done, a thorough examination and a chest xray the worst that they found was one of my blood results was one point off being perfect! The rest of my bloods were as good as a normal human being and according to the ward clerk much better than hers! My xray was clear and the examination showed nothing other than a big scared bloke with a cold.</div><div><br /></div><div>I left with a course of antibiotics and a big piece of humble pie. As seems to be the case I meet people worse off than myself on my visits, maybe they're sent to remind me how lucky I am. The staff always reinforce the if you're worried get in touch message which made me feel better and then I thought about my blood results, nearly four months after stem cell transplant and my bloods are normal. How brilliant is my body, at replacing blood, not at dancing!</div><div><br /></div><div>Wendy says, rightly so, that I think too much and I have too much time for thinking. I do think too much and looking back at my life the things I've talked myself out of by thinking too much is amazing, a ride on a bmx back in the day, a ride on a drunk but pretty scouser (long story chivalry prevailed), parties and life experiences which will never repeat themselves. But then I am a grown up now and riding a bmx is not so good for my back!</div><div><br /></div><div>So the dog and I went for a big walk down Wyming brook footpath and back up the race track. It was a cracking day, cold and bright and the air I pulled into my lungs was so sharp and invigorating I couldn't help feel totally alive.</div><div><br /></div><div>So from now on it'll be a bit less thinking and a lot more doing, not dancing, doing stuff rather than thinking about stuff. Well that's the plan anyway, I'll be scared in the future as I have been in the past but I need to keep rolling with this journey called life and it's little foibles.</div></div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgQbj9P20sAHMu3IT5IBUrMF-NNxdaL_OR_p5GvBG11fVdR74uIU8kcQeKlTxxOo0rusOiHi00WbaVeakNvNLk2OYForBt4ZPs_96C7dxR5wacmrD-w3GnaUAWp6G6JwBJx4uNFlEFsXA/s1600/IMG_0006.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 180px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgQbj9P20sAHMu3IT5IBUrMF-NNxdaL_OR_p5GvBG11fVdR74uIU8kcQeKlTxxOo0rusOiHi00WbaVeakNvNLk2OYForBt4ZPs_96C7dxR5wacmrD-w3GnaUAWp6G6JwBJx4uNFlEFsXA/s320/IMG_0006.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564583299470372258" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">It was a bit parky!</div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTueac0-LqnlHnxubI0bLkzoigNdb0n1liqcgkd4XMT-uGFfnRePfTfW60vlbOVQpeTty4O_MhrwmNaE799DOluhDlYnwxxZ4EqFASKx1QME2oxcXoN5HH5i9yf_cJvBQy4VmR1Osad_4/s1600/IMG_0014.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTueac0-LqnlHnxubI0bLkzoigNdb0n1liqcgkd4XMT-uGFfnRePfTfW60vlbOVQpeTty4O_MhrwmNaE799DOluhDlYnwxxZ4EqFASKx1QME2oxcXoN5HH5i9yf_cJvBQy4VmR1Osad_4/s320/IMG_0014.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564582979770779234" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">No time for sitting, it's time for doing.</div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBrmGJQiLsM9y3LA4q2NgpILy8wy_RerXiwI81SemNGYzRqUyYQUdRwBVyoJBEFe8qMLc3-CLXM0wnX_cb7CfZURGbmgxcJdJboQKseeyBQe6DWzoWqH2v2vGS8codmLfEDyqynpygsHU/s1600/IMG_0013.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 180px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBrmGJQiLsM9y3LA4q2NgpILy8wy_RerXiwI81SemNGYzRqUyYQUdRwBVyoJBEFe8qMLc3-CLXM0wnX_cb7CfZURGbmgxcJdJboQKseeyBQe6DWzoWqH2v2vGS8codmLfEDyqynpygsHU/s320/IMG_0013.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564582646500801698" /></a><br /><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDaMD3EE5qpMj_Hzl9l-ezj7ymCv6Yd4ClsFjnPQmZDN5iVhoI9fCJ6dN8GunjKTuAD_eh_6QWfAygbONx30AOK0H7BqWw9iTJFa7Tvcz7zvmqGzr3UPZHGqxwla4KSPvzvg_uXW6znxA/s1600/IMG_0015+%25282%2529.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 202px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDaMD3EE5qpMj_Hzl9l-ezj7ymCv6Yd4ClsFjnPQmZDN5iVhoI9fCJ6dN8GunjKTuAD_eh_6QWfAygbONx30AOK0H7BqWw9iTJFa7Tvcz7zvmqGzr3UPZHGqxwla4KSPvzvg_uXW6znxA/s320/IMG_0015+%25282%2529.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564582192685578962" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">I likes steel I does</div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT2N4XNSAkibzwnimqaM-jIww2CYxmm8g9i7W-L4FYjRgGOo9CQGc5syBkY_7JSoPEwKKffgTYNDKRT0xHgUaNWSPx9HVmU7pvUOFDh3vrJH0jaNpZN_D0BR4g75JLGo_QF9A7tLPRdpQ/s1600/IMG_0023.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT2N4XNSAkibzwnimqaM-jIww2CYxmm8g9i7W-L4FYjRgGOo9CQGc5syBkY_7JSoPEwKKffgTYNDKRT0xHgUaNWSPx9HVmU7pvUOFDh3vrJH0jaNpZN_D0BR4g75JLGo_QF9A7tLPRdpQ/s320/IMG_0023.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5564581757898491922" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">20 minutes from a big city!</div>nick harthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12730378126329491132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8466555734430288408.post-12287911462851387202011-01-14T15:02:00.003+00:002011-01-14T15:48:05.824+00:00Shed timeI've been a right miserable git recently and I have no right to be. Christmas was superb, it was the best day ever, fun and food and love and laughter. Wendy had put on a superb spread with an incredible roast and then pecan pie for pudding. I guess it wasn't a traditional Christmas day spread but it was fabulous and it was ours. <div><br /></div><div>There were days last year when it wasn't clear if I'd be around at Christmas so being well and being present was brilliant. Everyday is a blessing and recently I've lost sight of that.</div><div><br /></div><div>We trogged on down to Wales on the 27th and for me it was a real achievement driving all the way, we stopped at Brian and Eve's which was lovely except for Bertie embarrassing himself on the side of their sofa! We'd 10 miles or so left when I was aware of a limit to my endurance, my wrists ached and my head was slowing down but soon enough we were drinking tea and laughing with Anita and Jason. I was knackered for a day afterwards but I felt like my masculinity had returned, driving has been such an important part of my life that to be able to drive to Wales was a massive tick in the return to normal box. </div><div><br /></div><div>Jason and I had a bit of an adventure courtesy of his round table Christmas do, I thought it'd be a quiet pint and a meal in Cardigan. It turned into a quiet meal in Haverfordwest and then several less quiet pints back in Cardigan. A much bigger night than I'd expected or have had for an extremely long time, it finished with a kebab and me telling Anita how much I loved Jason and her and being in Wales. I meant it too even in the cold light of day.</div><div><br /></div><div>We had a lovely time at Bill and Bron's even if the table was a little crowded it was great to see Bron's son Graham and family and the post dinner Just Dance 2 competition was great fun even if it wasn't the best way of settling a meal! </div><div><br /></div><div>It was new years eve when I started feeling totally rubbish, I'd felt a little ropey the day before but put it down to the night before and probably doing too much, but now I felt rubbish and it panicked me. A phone call to Weston gave me some reassurance and a trip to Haverfordwest hospital gave me a little more, oh and a dose of tami-flu just to make sure. It was a rubbish time to go to Withybush as Wendy's mum had passed away ten years prior on that day so how she must have been feeling heaven only knows. Needless to say the evening wasn't the festivity we had all hoped for and by half ten I made my apologies and went to bed.</div><div><br /></div><div>Welcoming the new year in had always been such a happy occasion but this year felt different to me, yes I was poorly but I felt like I had to be more respectful to the coming year. Why I don't know, maybe I felt daft for having drunk so much, my body has been through so much and it doesn't need anything else to cope with. I'm not signing the pledge or anything but I'll be more careful in future.</div><div><br /></div><div>Getting home was to be such a simple affair, we load the car, I get in and drive home. Simple. I had nothing left, as I stood at the bottom of Anita and Jason's stairs crying I couldn't find anything in me that would safely get my family home. I didn't have the concentration nor the physical energy to drive 230 miles and all of a sudden, because of a poxy cold my masculinity dropped out of my trousers and ran and hid under a stone. To say I was grateful to Anita and Jason driving us half way and then mum and dad driving us home is an understatement, I probably didn't show much gratitude as I sulked most of the way but I'd just lost one of the biggest normal's I measure myself against and I didn't know how to find it again.</div><div><br /></div><div>I have been focusing on the negatives ever since, the cold has me up in the night coughing which isn't the nicest but it's rubbish for Wend as she's back at work now and is understandably knackered from that. How she does it I have no idea, she's gone straight back in and it makes me wonder. I struggled doing a couple of hours here and there last year and I'll do a phased return this time too. Jason's dad has had the horrible news that his cancer is back, what the future holds only time will tell, but I've allowed that to stir up emotions and memories which have scared me again. I should really be living my life and being there to support Jase, that's where I should be. </div><div><br /></div><div>I don't have a shed, I have a cellar. It's not big, it's not clean but it's dry and it's full of stuff. I don't expect everyone to understand, in fact I expect very few to understand but today I cleared part of my bench and threw things away. It was a cleansing of sorts, throwing out negative thoughts, worries about aches and pains. Sweeping up shavings from wood cut for turning projects, collecting my thoughts about Geoff (Jason's dad) and about me and where I am. Putting up clips to hold tools so that they are readily available when I need them, getting my priorities straight. Oh and looking at my bike, just cos I like looking at my bike. I like riding it more but looking will do for now.</div><div><br /></div><div>Then my mind started to find all the positives, the letter from Uncle Gordon which made me and mum cry, the phone call from Wendy's dad on Christmas day that made me cry because he was nice to me, the bumping in to Sarah at the climbing works (didn't make me cry), the fabulous family times we've had over the last few weeks (with and without crying). The time I have spent with Wendy and the love and laughter we have shared. The time spent with the girls laughing and admiring their sense of being and their love of life even after all they've been through. Time spent walking the daft dog. Time just being a big hairy Yorkshire bloke with a cold. Just because I've had a stem cell transplant doesn't make me immune to coughs and colds. That's part of being normal, well as normal as I get anyhow!</div><div><br /></div><div>Now I need to shake off this cold, start getting fit again and then get on with my life, in all it's normal glory.</div>nick harthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12730378126329491132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8466555734430288408.post-9026839216416764812010-12-24T18:05:00.004+00:002010-12-24T18:12:20.309+00:00Merry ChristmasLike it says Merry Christmas. Wendy and I are having a phone and web free Christmas so greetings are a little early.<div><br /></div><div>A very short post this one, just to say how amazingly lucky I am to be here. To have another Christmas with my beautiful family is a blessing I wasn't always sure I'd get. Not everyone is so lucky and my heart goes out to them, there is often someone worse off than me and I hope they can find solace and peace in the arms and hearts of family and friends.</div><div><br /></div><div>For now I'm going to curl up on the sofa with my girls and grumpy dog and a glass of something suitable. The love and support we've had this year has been amazing and makes me warm inside, along with the mulled wine!</div><div><br /></div><div>Have a great time, love to all.</div>nick harthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12730378126329491132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8466555734430288408.post-33002000038504247402010-12-20T10:44:00.003+00:002010-12-20T11:02:24.536+00:00TraditionsSome traditions hark back to a distant place in time. Others we start. Last year Wendy and I went to the Showroom to see it's a wonderful life. This year we did the same, does that class as a tradition? Anyway I sobbed, I thought I was sobbing quietly but according to Wendy I wasn't. The bit that got me was when George Bailey comes back to being (he's granted a wish by Clarence (angel second class (got no wings)) that he'd never been born), so he's just seen the world as it would have turned out if he'd never been born.<div><br /></div><div>So he'd seen his wife as an old maid, he'd seen the town he lived in turned into a corrupt little town in the pocket of the old miser in charge and he'd seen his mother broken by grief when his younger brother drowned as he'd not been alive to save him.</div><div><br /></div><div>So to come back into being and see his children and to see and hear and hold his wife was such a joyous occasion for him it set me going. I hadn't been taken by an angel and I haven't changed the world I live in but I have experienced being unable to hold my children and being unable to hold and see and hear Wendy. To be given a chance to do that again has been worth all the time and drugs and injections. How much time I have on this planet is unknown but it is all so precious, it is worth more than anything money can buy. My life now is simply amazing.</div><div><br /></div><div>To add to the traditions we went to the panto again, this year Sarah and Geoff were late through no fault of their own, they battled through snow and ice to drive from Wigan to see some bloke in a dress........ We were also joined by Debbie and her daughter Alicia, the cousin we didn't know about but now can't imagine living without and her daughter who I taught at school. Then to round out the extended family was Shelly and her bloke Dave and his God son Nathan. Sixteen in total with mum and dad and Viv and family. Carys was the loudest by far but the laughter that came when the dames boobs slipped was worth the entry fee alone!</div><div><br /></div><div>Whether the ice skating in the peace gardens makes it into tradition I'm not sure but the post panto curry may!</div><div><br /></div><div>Walking the dog this morning was a chilly experience, four out five of the glass milk bottles had broken this morning as it was so cold and the new washing machine refuses to work as the water feed to that is frozen too. But as my nasal hair, newly acquired and it was sorely missed, froze in the cold air my heart sang in my chest as being alive is just bloody brilliant.</div>nick harthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12730378126329491132noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8466555734430288408.post-13389007380558708612010-12-14T20:01:00.003+00:002010-12-14T20:22:25.449+00:00Christmas Show timeSometimes children's school shows are a little bit wearing, songs that have been rehearsed to death in the home, recorders out of tune and pushy parents taking up the front seats.<div><br /></div><div>Sometimes they're not. Carys' was a lovely event last week, she was a narrator with a line of importance. It went well, Carys said her line well, with clarity and volume and we sat there pleased as punch. Anyone who's ever met Carys won't be surprised at her performance as she's a young lady who can be a star in her own lifetime if she so chooses.</div><div><br /></div><div>Georgia has been a different child recently, she's grown into her own skin with a confidence that I worried she would never find. Her sense of humour is wickedly quick and she has her own identity in a world that could be described as bland. She even volunteered to be a narrator for the Christmas play!</div><div><br /></div><div>This is something that neither Wend or I would have ever believed could happen, volunteering to stand in front of a room full of strangers and speak out loud. Well today was the day. We went with baited breath and sat in the hall on chairs that are way too small for my rather large backside.</div><div><br /></div><div>There was the traditional waving and smiling and thumbs up as the kids came in and sat in their pre-show places. Then it was show time, the first people on stage were George and two other narrators. There she stood holding on to the hem of her t-shirt a little smile on those lips and a sparkle in her eye. Then she was into her lines, clear and loud and so perfect. Wend had tears in her eyes and I had a massive lump in my throat. It meant so much, after the past two years there she was our Georgie pickle stood with confidence narrating her lines in front of parents and peers alike.</div><div><br /></div><div>She's just gone to bed and I can't put into words how proud I am of her, so I told her just that.</div><div><br /></div><div>The show was brill, even after George had sat down, there were shadow puppets and costumes and singing that was way better than it should be for a junior school show. To say I felt warm inside is a massive understatement. What a fabulously lucky man I am.</div>nick harthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12730378126329491132noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8466555734430288408.post-69875347738129168852010-12-13T11:28:00.007+00:002010-12-13T13:52:40.934+00:00Other peoples stories<div>Like I commented last time sometimes it's about other peoples stories and their experiences with cancer and the subsequent treatments. Sorry that's wrong, it should be other peoples stories and their experiences with life. Life is a common theme running through all of us and how we live it and how we see it is entirely up to the individual.<div><br /></div><div>The snow has been an incredible boost to the community, it's slowed people down, it's made people think of others and for me it's been wonderful to see people working together clearing snow and talking about something new.</div><div><br /></div><div>Mark and I went to the NEC for the motor bike show, I was a little nervous as this would be the furthest I'd driven for ages and it was also minus six as we cleared the car off in the morning! It was minus eleven by the time we were on the M42 towards Birmingham, I thought it was meant to get warmer as the day progressed!</div><div><br /></div><div>We made it with no incidents, other than the screen washer jets refused to thaw, not surprised really I wouldn't work strapped to the bonnet in minus eleven either!</div><div><br /></div><div>The show was great with a notable exception, Jason was meant to be meeting us there as we'd bought him the ticket as a birthday gift. Due to the weather he'd lost a couple of days work that week and then the forecast wasn't so good so he decided to stay home. It was a damn shame as he works hard and I haven't seen him for ages and it would have been nice to catch up. But this is what I mean about other peoples stories and experiences with life. No it wasn't life or death and to many it would be just a motor bike show but to Jason it would have been a day out and to me it would have been time with two of my best friends. So it was annoying and disappointing but not to be helped.</div><div><br /></div><div>Mark and I spent plenty of time sitting on motorbikes, some way out of our reach some that could be within reach and some that I wouldn't touch with a barge pole but it was fun to try anyway. There was a large number of scantily clad ladies brightening up some stands and there was a large number of overweight sweaty blokes dulling the effect somewhat with their leering and over large cameras. I guess sex sells!</div></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwV2MhBXMzJNiyU5RZiwOGFiJ_MrA-Tsdp9awSDz4LHKJXkvanEzyjv0D4MvuX51mvQSQk3Jdba5XEh7nars6lm36PeHMNbOaoNkafQv5MZ-EBpifaT4Xfl3x3VV4HcorNyYbqDoXgtY4/s1600/IMG_0064.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 250px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwV2MhBXMzJNiyU5RZiwOGFiJ_MrA-Tsdp9awSDz4LHKJXkvanEzyjv0D4MvuX51mvQSQk3Jdba5XEh7nars6lm36PeHMNbOaoNkafQv5MZ-EBpifaT4Xfl3x3VV4HcorNyYbqDoXgtY4/s320/IMG_0064.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550164032988433970" /></a><div><div style="text-align: center;">Me making a big bike look average! (yes that's facial hair too!)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ3NaM7ZnQDV7zA55FRwB4jhxUYu26fNJQLcCSk7-eN6mGIqx0P5TDf3OVk3MThr3msxCvmKy0DD4PJGB73kwAAjSmkWdUSw8wdFrxfaHP5lnbkycK4bbITtQYIiOhwd_dbQ6jZ3eFFPY/s1600/IMG_0058.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJ3NaM7ZnQDV7zA55FRwB4jhxUYu26fNJQLcCSk7-eN6mGIqx0P5TDf3OVk3MThr3msxCvmKy0DD4PJGB73kwAAjSmkWdUSw8wdFrxfaHP5lnbkycK4bbITtQYIiOhwd_dbQ6jZ3eFFPY/s320/IMG_0058.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550163761666765010" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Mark going reet fast!</div><div><br /></div><div>The following night was a curry with the biking lot. I don't like calling our christmas do for some reason that makes it less relaxed than just going for a cuzza! Again the weather had an effect, although some of the party had been skiing on a local dam wall and some had been snow boarding further into the peak, some couldn't risk the journey due to kids and babysitters etc. Pete and Rosie made it up from Bristol though and it was fab to see them both, I think in the years I've known them I've ridden with them once, but I've shared pints and tall tales over curry with them several times and it's always a joy to catch up. I had a great time and even without Jim and Nic and Baz and Lucy there were 16 of us which meant plenty of chat and banter flying about.</div><div><br /></div><div>I came to the conclusion at the end of the evening that if I ever go on a biking holiday with Pete I'll have to be careful about my alcohol intake as there is a massive chance of it getting very messy!</div><div><br /></div><div>Life is great. I had a check up on Friday, just gone, which went ok except for me having a bit of a cold. So I couldn't finish the tablets which has been a bit of a blow, in fact they gave me some more antibiotics which are great for the cold but not so good for the sleep and the stomach! Sitting in the waiting area at clinic is always interesting trying to work out the dynamics of relationships. Listening to the couple next to me, it was hard not to! It was touching hearing the husband making small talk but adding in the odd reassurance to his wife. She was obviously quite stressed about being there and the reality of starting the cancer journey, she turned to me an asked how I could read in the waiting room. I didn't say it was a cover for people watching, as I was reading! For me I have been there so many times and I feel so relaxed about my situation that I can concentrate on a good book. (I've started re-reading feet in the clouds about the little known sport of fell running and have found my legs moving faster as I walk the dog!) We started talking about the surreal feel of the initial news and the over riding feeling that someone will pinch you and wake you up from a horrible dream. It would have been nice to talk for longer but then my name was called so another meeting of people came to an end. Who knows how her story will pan out, or the young couple who were holding on to each other so tightly, or the young mother who came in with her boisterous toddler or the guy playing on his phone?</div><div><br /></div><div>It got to me somehow, knowing what I've experienced, I just hoped that they would have an easier time of it. That their story wouldn't be long winded and quite such a roller coaster ride. </div></div>nick harthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12730378126329491132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8466555734430288408.post-17059955447092943862010-12-01T15:57:00.003+00:002010-12-01T16:23:45.427+00:00Am I so transparent?Writing a blog has been a fascinating process for me, being honest with my feelings but not pushing my opinion, it's been massively emotional for me and an incredible release. Reading the little comments has been a boost as well, it's been a real support to us knowing people are out there rooting for me.<div><br /></div><div>Reading Gwyn's comment on the last post was like looking into my head which was weird! I'm not known for my patience but I, mistakenly, thought that I was hiding my desire to be back to normal! Obviously not.</div><div><br /></div><div>It's been a strange couple of weeks with some real highs and some mind focusing lows. The low's have mostly been due to an inane ability I have to look at the negatives, sometimes I just get caught into a spiral of negative thought. Why I don't know, how I break that spiral is never clear to me until Wendy points it out, I have to break a cycle. Usually it's a physical thing with me, go for a walk or go in the cellar and hit stuff, it's a combination of busy head and a body that isn't ready to do all the things I want it to! The recent spiral was broken with a mixture of walking the dog, doing my physio rehab and also sorting some paperwork out. Now this last one is a new one for me but I found it very rewarding, even though it took me a full morning to fill in a form and write a letter!</div><div><br /></div><div>I called in to work last week and had a wonderful time for a couple of hours, then I crashed and just had to leave. It was as quick as that, one minute happy and chatty next minute I'm quiet and focussed on leaving. It was weird but it was also a good sign that my head isn't anywhere near ready for going back, that said it was fantastic to see staff and kids alike and the positive vibe that the majority of kids gave me was brilliant.</div><div><br /></div><div>Physically I'm getting much better, it's unusual now that I sleep in the day, my hair is trying to come back (everywhere, which is surprisingly nice). I've been playing in the snow today of which we have a ridiculous amount (14inches) which has been fab. Playing, throwing snow balls, sledging, building a little igloo/snow tunnel and rugby tackling people all without getting out of breath or having to give up five minutes in is just incredible considering I've only been out of hospital for two months. </div><div><br /></div><div>This is a fact I have to hold onto. I'm lucky like a lottery winner, talking to a guy at the physio sessions he was in isolation for six months, having infection after infection. He went from 16 stone to 10 and has lost so much muscle tone he has to walk with a stick to save him falling all the time. He doesn't seem to want sympathy but he just wants to be normal, I guess that's a common theme with people who've been through an experience like we have.</div><div><br /></div><div>My normal is being a dad and a husband and a teacher who bikes and runs and does stuff. As it goes I feel like I'm getting there with the husband and dad bit, I so want to be teaching again it makes me ache but first I need to be fit, physically and mentally. So, Gwyneth, I'm going to take Nick size small steps...........way slower than I'd like but probably better in the long run.</div>nick harthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12730378126329491132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8466555734430288408.post-9744193727668487772010-11-19T19:47:00.006+00:002010-11-19T20:54:15.133+00:00Just a little too much. (Dawn, put the kettle on)I've had a fabulous week, I've felt more relaxed and fitter than I have done for a very long time. I'm still getting tired but it's a learning process, how much I can do in one day and how I feel before the batteries run dry, kind of!<div><br /></div><div>Something has been missing though, my life has changed a little since I had my Hickman line out last week. My daily injection is no longer needed which is fantastic, my belly was looking like a very random dot to dot puzzle. I have had a real mental block about giving myself the injections and I had reservations about Wendy giving them to me. I appreciate she's a trained nurse and that she was happy to do it but I didn't want her to, I didn't want our relationship to change to one of carer and cared for. If it got to the stage that I'd been so ill I had no option then so be it but I wasn't planning on being ill! This meant that I had a daily visit from the district nurse team, not the whole team just one of them at a time!</div><div><br /></div><div>This visit was as much a psychiatric assessment as much it was to administer the drugs. It helped so much having a friendly face call in and have a bit of a chat, I can understand how important it must be for people who are alone. The team helped me come to terms with coming home, being ill, being better and also about being a complete woos when it came to me doing the injections. They were patient and funny and they did a great deal more for me than just give me injections they started my head healing.</div><div><br /></div><div>The removal of the line has been a relief for me, I had worried bout how the procedure was going to work and whether or not it was a case of just pull the darn thing out. As it happened it was local anaesthetic into the area around where the line exited my shoulder and a reasonable amount of cutting. The line has a rough area designed into it so the body's tissues can grow onto the line and hold it in place. Well from the grunting and huffing of the doctor and the pushing and pulling on my shoulder I guess my body had done a good job of growing new tissue! Once the connection between me and the plastic tube had been severed it was a gentle pull and out it came, as it was pulled out of my neck the doctor put pressure on my neck to help the vein heal up and so I didn't bleed under the skin. I would have been annoyed to have beaten cancer twice and then bled to death! I now have three stitches and a line on my shoulder which may give me the scar I was wanting. More importantly though I don't get woken up by a sharp plastic clip digging in my nipple every time I roll over in bed and I don't feel self conscious in front of Wend when I'm in my birthday suit. She's never commented or made an issue it's purely in my head that I'm feeling self conscious about it.</div><div><br /></div><div>This new freedom has allowed me to be a little more adventurous with my days, so along with my physio rehab I've visited work and driven around more than I've done before. I'm also really enjoying walking the dog the smell of the leaves, the sound of the river and the feeling of the seasons changing.</div><div><br /></div><div>The visit to work was great, seeing people and having a bit of time to catch up but most of all it was the welcome I was given. Having been away for so long you never know how people will react to you. They're busy with their own lives and their own worries but they made me feel so welcome and the number of people asking when I'd be back, it was quite humbling.</div><div><br /></div><div>Well it had to have a bit of a lump in the smooth running and that came on Thursday. It was my fault, I'd felt great on Wednesday and so I'd done too much. It wasn't the end of the world too tired like a few weeks ago but it was a definite reminder of how I'm not sorted, regardless of how good I had been feeling.</div><div><br /></div><div>I feel great in my own skin at the moment and have very few if any sad thoughts, until I was watching children in need tonight. A young lad had lost his mum to cancer, he was talking about how brave she'd been having all the injections and the treatment and yet she still passed away. I had a lump in the throat and a tear in the eye when George piped up that I had been brave having all the treatment. I haven't been brave I've just had to accept my lot and get on with it, I've been damn lucky to be honest. I'm still here and I have the majority of my faculties about me, long may it last.</div><div><br /></div><div>(Oh the instruction in brackets is to a friend of Wend's who complains about not knowing whether to have a cup of tea with her blog up date.)</div>nick harthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12730378126329491132noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8466555734430288408.post-81009545720647429732010-11-15T09:21:00.004+00:002010-11-15T09:45:44.968+00:00The start of normalNormal for us is being out in the peaks walking and scrambling and generally enjoying the great outdoors. So the first morning of the rest of our lives that's what we did. A gorgeous blue sky followed us all the way to Burbage where we walked under the gritstone cliffs and through the heather watching like minded folks enjoying the amazing scenery.<div><br /></div><div>It was the first time we'd taken Bertie on the rocks and we needn't have worried, I think he's actually a grey hound/kangaroo/mountain goat cross rather than a pedigree Border Terrier. The way he scooted about and then bounced over the heather brought joy and amazement. I felt superb scrambling up the cliff to try and catch up with the girls, I couldn't have done it any quicker but I felt great and my heart wasn't trying to burst out of my chest as I'd expected. With few slips and slides and plenty of laughter we were back at the car ready for tea and medals at the local cafe.</div><div><br /></div><div>This was the scene of my first welling, I could feel my eyes filling and my heart pumping. Looking at my amazing family, sat round eating toast and having their various drinks, we got here. Through it all, all the chemo, the scans the high's and the lows. The blue lights and the crappy food (in hospital), we'd got to the other side and I just felt an overwhelming pride in these three incredible people who I'm lucky enough to call my family. They'd carried on, going to school, walking the dog and keeping the house sorted and all being fed and watered and carrying on with life.</div><div><br /></div><div>I kept it together, can't be sobbing in a public place! It took it out of me though and I felt flat for the rest of the day, the sobbing was stuck somewhere and it needed out but it's not like a spot that you squeeze it needs a trigger. Charlie was very nearly that trigger when he phoned from New Zealand, I wish I could have sounded happier but I had nothing left and I felt myself going but then the phone went dead. He rang back, it went dead again, he rang back muttering something about the hamsters weren't running hard enough! It was enough though for me to lose my train of thought and for the sobs to remain stuck, probably to Charlie's relief!</div><div><br /></div><div>They came at Sunday tea, we'd had a lovely day going to the park with Viv and her family and then chilling, watching the rugby and just pottering round home. I'd taken the hound for another walk just round the block but I felt capable and really enjoyed the feeling of the air in my lungs and the warmth in my legs. So we're sat round having had a beautiful roast chicken and were just tucking into some pudding when they came. Wendy saw them coming and I tried in a way to stave them off but they came anyway. This time I knew why, I was looking at George and thinking how grown up she's becoming how much has changed since the start of round two. How fabulous it was to take the girls to a restaurant on Friday and the way they behaved. How I'm going to get to see them grow some more, this is it, I get to see my family blossom and grow. Whether I agree on boyfriend choices or come out with the immortal line 'You're not going out dressed like that' I don't know and to be honest I don't care because unless I get knocked over by a bus (other forms of mortality available!) I'm going to live more than was expected. The feeling that my life is extended is weird and wonderful at the same time, I just don't want to mess it up.</div>nick harthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12730378126329491132noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8466555734430288408.post-81552122383119068092010-11-12T15:42:00.005+00:002010-11-13T07:45:54.414+00:00Done itI'm in remission, again! Liked it so much I thought I'd do it twice!<div><br /></div><div>The scan has shown that the lump has reduced in size, the nodules on my lung have disappeared as they hoped they would, the liquid round my heart has gone but has left a thickened sack around the heart and my liver is a bit fatty. Fois gras anyone!</div><div><br /></div><div>It's not sunk in yet and I haven't sobbed but I will and I'll bloody well enjoy it. My head feels like it's going to explode with all the pent up angst and my heart feels like beating out of my chest.</div><div><br /></div><div>I owe so much to so many and the hearts and thoughts have given so much. My wife and kids have always been my raison d'etre and the look of relief on Wend's face when we had the news was magical as was the reaction of the kids when they came home from school. Carys wanted to squeeze and squidge me, George seemed happy with a hug but there'll be plenty more of those.</div><div><br /></div><div>The big boss (not Wendy!) says I'll be in trouble if I break my arms cartwheeling! Mum sobbed, Viv sobbed, Dad hugged and hugged as did Amanda, Belinda squeeled and Mark was overjoyed. After having to give shitty news out for so long it's fab giving good news for a change.</div><div><br /></div><div>Going to go for a curry and a couple of shandies tonight, a little celebration. This time remission feels right, it feels like it has a permanence to it as though the little bar steward is beaten. Whether it is or not only time will tell and that'll always be in the back of my mind, but for now I'm going to enjoy life for as long as possible.</div>nick harthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12730378126329491132noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8466555734430288408.post-79973217037355979052010-11-11T12:07:00.003+00:002010-11-11T12:42:31.909+00:00Fireworks and friendsThe 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.<div><br /></div><div>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.</div><div><br /></div><div>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!</div><div><br /></div><div>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.</div><div><br /></div><div>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.</div><div><br /></div><div>It'll be what it'll be.</div>nick harthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12730378126329491132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8466555734430288408.post-83139266112580607692010-11-11T11:12:00.006+00:002010-11-11T12:05:11.197+00:00How does she do it?<div>I've been a royal pain in the bum leading up to my birthday last week. I've had too much time to think to be honest, I've been thinking too much about life and what's important. I've spent time looking out of windows wishing to live, not wishing for a new phone or a bigger better faster thingymebob.<div><br /></div><div>So when asked what I'd like for my birthday I said nothing, as in I don't want anything rather than not saying anything! The thing that I couldn't see in my blinkered way was that Wendy and the girls and others around me wanted to celebrate my birthday and that the giving was as much for them as it was for me.</div><div><br /></div><div>The biggest thing for me was that I made it, at times I was unsure as to whether I'd get to my 39th year. I guess it was a little touch and go at times, but hey I'm here and I have no plans to go anywhere soon.</div><div><br /></div><div>I had started to suggest things to Wendy but I still wasn't being overly helpful. But she came up with the one thing I didn't know I wanted but I really did! Along with a cookery book and a box set of dvd's, which I'd forgotten I wanted, Wendy got me a lovely ceramic mixing bowl. I have watched cookery programs and yearned for a nice ceramic bowl in which to make bread. Now I had the bowl and the book so Saturday morning I made my first loaf of soda bread, it was so nice mixing and feeling the dough in between my fingers. The really basic action of mixing together simple ingredients and then hoping and watching as the dough turned from something so soft and plain to a lovely looking loaf. It tasted ok too, even if I do say so myself.</div></div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVMt9y4pWlHjKYKvLEbT2FVRAW-W-47tg8eHJ9JptDWPuhVnwqVTBV71KkyTTdoTVVovPbj24lbq09zaL6i4_wPr3060dZsXe77FjhZ7E1aIwh9WTBVBBLbd2iONb5f7O0PUHFrOLflLI/s1600/Image0045.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVMt9y4pWlHjKYKvLEbT2FVRAW-W-47tg8eHJ9JptDWPuhVnwqVTBV71KkyTTdoTVVovPbj24lbq09zaL6i4_wPr3060dZsXe77FjhZ7E1aIwh9WTBVBBLbd2iONb5f7O0PUHFrOLflLI/s320/Image0045.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538261710863862434" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Crusty and tasty</div><div><br /></div><div>Friday had been a lovely day with gifts and laughter and the return of Charlie, on a flying visit from New Zealand. Saturday morning started with wonderful pancakes, bacon and maple syrup. Breakfast in bed, with Wendy and the girls and damn good food how can I not wake with a smile.</div><div><br /></div><div>After a fairly lazy morning we had a lovely afternoon with a superb afternoon tea which Wend had prepared. Mark and Jill brought Charlie down and mum and dad called as they were taking us to Eyam for the fireworks. It was a lovely afternoon spoiled by me having a panic attack and being rude to Wend. We were half way to Eyam and all of a sudden I couldn't think where I'd put the tickets, the last time I could remember seeing them was when I was putting my shoes on and Wendy had moved them all of 2 inches from where I put them. This in my mind had been enough to stop me picking the darn things up and I said as much. It wasn't Wendy's fault the tickets hadn't been moved out of my eyesight and the embarrassing and worrying thing was I'd picked them up and put them in the pocket on the back of the car seat! It served to show me how my temper is still so close to the surface and that although my fatigue levels are miles better than they have been it still has a bearing on my patience.</div>nick harthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12730378126329491132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8466555734430288408.post-85189605169799966172010-11-03T19:53:00.003+00:002010-11-03T20:16:01.285+00:00Physio-terroristsI was nervous about going to the physios, I was nervous about being crap, about being the new boy, about how I'd feel the next day. So it was with trepidation that I got on the bus and pottered up to the Hallamshire for my physio controlled work out.<div><br /></div><div>I was also really excited about it as I want to get my fitness back as it was such a big part of my life before. I was never a gym bunny and I hadn't realised how much I needed the endorphins until I had been denied them. But now I'm aching to get back to playing, running, swimming, biking just being me again.</div><div><br /></div><div>So I changed into the only shorts that fitted me and a top that was once loose but is now almost indecent and into the world of heart rate monitors and sweat and pain we go. Well not really, it was friendly and gentle and welcoming. All the people there were people coming out of or going through a fairly harrowing time of their lives for one reason or another. No-one was rippling muscle or baywatch babe and it made fitting in much easier, the only person concerned about my ability was me.</div><div><br /></div><div>My ability was mixed, I was pleased with my strength but frustrated with my aerobic ability. I know I've been through a lot and my body is doing remarkable things but my aerobic stamina cost me a great deal of time last time I tried to sort it out. I think that the fact I've done it before is a massive help to me but it's still a daunting hill to climb. Best get my crampons on.</div><div><br /></div><div>Yesterday I had a trip into work, dad drove which was a massive help as although I felt a lot better than I thought I would after my work out Monday I was still aware that controlling two tons of metal was more taxing than controlling 18 stone of bald Yorkshireman on the bus! It was lovely to see people at work, it wasn't a social I hadn't got enough to see everyone that I wanted to (sorry Belinda) I had a form that needed signing too but it was brilliant to see the people I did. Some looked straight through me, but then I do look very different to last time they saw me, bald of head and bald of chin too!</div><div><br /></div><div>All in all it's been a reet good week so far, I'm tired today from not sleeping very well but otherwise I feel great, even walked to the corner shop without having to stop for breath tonight! I want to keep at this level of improvement if I can, not sure what I can do to help but I'll keep doing what I am so far.</div>nick harthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12730378126329491132noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8466555734430288408.post-77939517289559719552010-10-31T19:12:00.003+00:002010-10-31T20:22:49.641+00:00HeavenlyIt's been a great week. The girls were on holiday and mum and dad had them to stay for a couple of nights which was great, we love the girls but every now and again it's nice to have a bit of a lay in!<div><br /></div><div>Wednesday Gwyn, Drew and Simon (Gwyn's eldest) called round. Now for all the times we've visited them in Wales this was the first time for Gwyn and Drew to call in on us. It was wonderful, when old friends meet and the conversation flows and the laughter is raucous. Simon has a wonderfully quick and dry sense of humour and it was such a relief to have conversations that focussed on others peoples lives and topics away from hospital and illness.</div><div><br /></div><div>Yes we spoke of my time in hotel Hallamshire and I found it very strange as I'd forgotten things about my stay, maybe I'd blanked them out or my head had come up with a coping strategy. Whatever it was it felt very strange knowing that my memory was playing tricks. But overall the conversation was about life, normal life and normal dreams and normal ups and downs.</div><div><br /></div><div>We ventured into town and found another wonderful meal at Aagrah. The strawberry beer before certainly hit the spot for me and the conversation and laughter were as much a tonic as any drug could ever be. It was just wonderful.</div><div><br /></div><div>Thursday I felt good, a little tired but not exhausted, so we thought it'd be nice to go for a drive and get a butty and sit and watch the world go by. Well we got 2 miles from home and it was enough, it wasn't anything serious but my concentration was suffering and as Wend doesn't drive I couldn't ask her to take over. We bought a butty and headed home to chill. The chilling took me to bed, it took Wend to Morrisons!</div><div><br /></div><div>Wendy made a fab kedgeree and we drank a bottle of wine, the decadence of not having the kids around............</div><div><br /></div><div>Friday morning was a little steady for me, I had a funny little headache which was related to how fast my movements were. I think traditionally this sort of ailment would be called a hangover! It didn't interfere with my visit to Weston though. I have been setting myself little targets all the way through this experience, be it walking to the loo or brushing my teeth without any pain. A big target for me has been waiting for the consultant to say we'll see you in two weeks, to me it's a sign of progress, a sign that my body is fighting back. Well it's happened, no appointment this Friday! It felt amazing just like reaching the top of a climb or getting a new job or when the person you fancy says yes to a second date. A weight was lifted, I stood a little taller with a bigger smile than previously imaginable.</div><div><br /></div><div>The up wasn't to stop there, a short walk over to the Hallamshire to see the Physio department was to be the icing on the cake. Last year I craved a structured return to fitness, something supported by someone who knew what they were doing rather than me beating myself into the floor. This time as I have had a transplant there is such a rehabilitation scheme which is run by the physio team at the Hallamshire.</div><div><br /></div><div>Jo was amazingly patient and sympathetic to my impatience. Suggesting that she had seen people like me before and that although she hadn't been through anything like I had she was very understanding. She even laughed at my jokes.......I think anyway! My regime starts Monday so we'll see if I survive to tell any tale worth telling, or not as the case may be.</div><div><br /></div><div>All this up was tempered with a little down on Saturday. We went to the pictures which was brilliant, more normality, a family going to the pictures as a treat for the end of the holidays. It all went really well until we tried to get home, an ambulance had broken down on the tram tracks which meant we had to find a bus. Walking up through town was hard, concentrating on the traffic, the crossings and the crowds made it even harder. I was starting to feel tired and stressed just as the student in an overgrown babygrow asked me for a donation. I told him no thank you, we choose a charity at the start of the year and give to them, he rattled his box and said it's a worthy cause. I replied no thank you again, to which he said any coppers will do. It just got to me the noise the people the hill that I'd never previously felt so the response was 'which bit of no do you not understand?' I know he was trying his best and he'd probably been there a while and was fed up with it all but it riled me and the fact it riled me riled me even more. If I hadn't been with the girls I don't know where the meeting of minds would have led.</div><div><br /></div><div>It was disappointing for me because it showed how close to knackered I am. I'm learning, even when my head feels good think several times about doing anything physical. I've had a fantastic week with a little blip just to remind me of where I've come from. Next week is next week and that's where I'm going so that's what I'm focussing on. The future. Loving the now and am looking forward to the tomorrow.</div>nick harthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12730378126329491132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8466555734430288408.post-23220302544675485002010-10-21T16:21:00.005+01:002010-10-21T17:03:08.458+01:00All quiet on the 'Weston' front!It's been a quiet week on the medical front. Well except for the tube up the nose treatment I had on Friday last week, they were looking for bugs and so the best place is the back of the nose in a cavity which I was unaware of! Not the nicest thing to have done, a tube up your nose which then taps at the back of the cavity when it's in far enough! They have suction on and a little catchment bottle into which the bogies and snot gather! Unfortunately they didn't get enough out of my right nostril so into the left they went, amazing how much your eyes can water...........<div><br /></div><div>Monday was a bit of an event, I walked to school to pick up the girls with Wend. It was weird and amazing at the same time, seeing the teachers and the kids and how things have changed since my last visit.</div><div><br /></div><div>Tuesday was a bigger event, parents evening. I made the effort to walk up again and I was so glad I did. It was hard work on my part as Georgia's class is now on the top floor of the school, something that in the past would have been a quick jog was now like Everest, slow and steady was the way and I made it without my heart pounding out of my chest too much.</div><div><br /></div><div>Meeting Georgie's teacher was an absolute pleasure, her work has improved no end. Georgia not the teacher..... The feedback the teacher gave was great, she tries hard and is always polite and will work with anyone in the class. Her levels, that they measure children by, were little miss average but to me it's the way she works and how she interacts with the rest of the class that is more important the a tick in a box.</div><div><br /></div><div>Carys' teacher is newly qualified and lovely but she looks knackered at the end of her first half term. I remember the feeling well, counting down the days and the hours until you can have a lay in or a proper night out, just to recharge the batteries before the next onslaught. Carys' report was great, her levels were great and her work was amazing considering her years. She also got praise for the way she worked within the class and how she interacts with the other kids.</div><div><br /></div><div>So there we are proud as punch, our kids have got great reports from their teachers and given the year they've had it's an amazing testament to them and to Wend. We wandered across the yard and had a chat with one of the assistant head teachers. We thanked them for their help and support and praised the teachers and Georgia's in particular, she has experience of cancer in her family and has been a great support to George. The assistant head said that they were happy to help and people wanted to help the girls because they're such good kids and they're polite and lovely to work with! This is when the heart pounds and the pride inside grows.</div><div><br /></div><div>I have praised kids at school for good lessons and they throw it back at you by being rubbish the next time. Our kids are different they get the truth about everything. My memory isn't good enough to lie anyway! So we praised them, we told them the truth we hugged them and thanked them and loved them. I also told Wendy that I have the utmost admiration for her, she's incredible and she still doesn't know how incredible she is. She's kept life real for the girls and kept routine and normality as much as possible. </div><div><br /></div><div>The next day I crashed, I was grumpy, distant and generally irritable. I was short with the girls and distant with Wend. I had nothing left, I thought I was doing well but the truth was that I couldn't cover up my emotions. Wendy's honesty gave me a much needed kick up the bum though, it's hard hearing home truths but they needed saying. I needed it, as I can paint a very black picture when I'm tired. I have to be careful, I have to listen to my body but I almost have to pre-empt being tired. So today was a very chilled out relaxed kind of day. I'm still tired but I have to remember how much I've been through and how far I've come. Progress is being made but it's slower than I want it to be, patience grasshopper.........</div>nick harthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12730378126329491132noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8466555734430288408.post-29348670607054762342010-10-11T16:30:00.005+01:002010-10-11T17:06:21.449+01:00Think, just thinkIf I worked on the average time to stay in isolation then I'd be coming out of hospital tomorrow. This is the fact I have to remember, I've had 8 extra days of freedom and I have to keep that in mind when I'm feeling fed up.<div><br /></div><div>I was fed up on Friday as my blood counts had dropped to levels which started to cause concern. We had been warned that this may happen and I'd also started on another medication which can have the side effect of dropping my blood counts. None of these known facts prepared me for the disappointment that was printed on the piece of paper in front of me. There were columns of numbers and some had stars by them, these were the problem areas, a bit like getting a poor mark at school. I felt like I'd failed, I'd let people down, I'd let myself down. There was nothing I could do about it other than stop the medication, take it easy and rest my body and wait to see if there was an improvement by Monday.</div><div><br /></div><div>Today is Monday and my bloods have recovered, they're better, they're up to a level that they would expect and that is safe for me to live a bit more of a normal life. Well, normal as in staying awake all day and maybe walking up stairs without the room spinning or being completely out of breath. I also mentioned that my resting heart rate was a great deal higher than I'd expect it to be. When we started on the road that is cancer my resting heart rate was 60 beats per minute. Granted I was riding to work and running and being generally very active and now I'm amazingly inactive. Plus I've had bucket loads of chemicals pumped into my body and that's going have an effect.</div><div><br /></div><div>But and it's a big but, I forget that I've been inactive for so long, I forget that I've had six months of treatment. Weeks and weeks of time in hospital months of sitting on the sofa and an incredible amount of drugs, thank goodness for National Insurance!</div><div><br /></div><div>I also have to remember and I was reminded vividly today, that there's always someone worse off than you. Because of my fragile immune system we go straight to the teenage unit so that I'm not exposed to too many coughs and colds of the general waiting area. The teenage unit is a humbling place, young people who've had short lives living through a massive challenge. One young lady was talking with a visitor, without being rude it was difficult not to overhear. The radio therapy she was receiving had damaged her throat and she was struggling to eat. She'd been rushed in because of the damage and it would mean a stay in over the weekend, the weekend of her birthday. A night down town had been planned and her mates were looking forward to all the festivities. All this information was shared with the visitor, a visitor of another patient. But the amazing thing was how mature she was offering advice on how to cope with the weird situation of patient-visitor relationships, thoughts on life and relationships outside of the hospital and life in general. It was a very selfless conversation on her part, perhaps it was a relief to talk about something other than her illness. I don't know but I hope she gets better before the weekend.</div><div><br /></div><div>Like I've said before Weston park is one of those weird places where you see all walks of life going through an incredible experience. Incredibly hard physically and emotionally. I'm tired and fed up of it now I want my life back. But I have to think how much I've gone through, how much my family and friends have gone through and how far I have come. Think about taking it one hour at a time and getting better at a speed that suits my body. It's going to take time and patience but I have to think of the future.</div>nick harthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12730378126329491132noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8466555734430288408.post-13285506258380433242010-10-06T20:05:00.005+01:002010-10-06T21:06:40.122+01:00I'm home.Monday morning and it's doctors round time. Sunday had been ok my bloods had come back as being better than expected and so they'd said I'd be allowed out of the room and to the lift atrium. Walking to the nurses station was far enough, laying in a bed for the last three weeks or so has messed with my muscles and they've lost ability, I won't say definition as that's not really what my temple is like!<div><br /></div><div>The blood count is what matters at this stage, whether I have a certain number of platelets or white blood cells. The doctors decided that as my bloods were good enough I could go home. It was as quick as that, from being allowed out of the isolation room to be allowed home in the matter of hours. My head was spinning, the emotions were so mixed, the safety of the hospital and the isolation but the joy of going home. The risks associated with coming home are minimal but the benefits way outweigh them. </div><div><br /></div><div>The emotional support that watching my girls screaming down the path to hug me and sitting on the sofa being held down by the dog is magic. Watching Wendy sorting everything out is hard though. I'm on a serious case of rest, so I'm meant to be waited on hand and foot, the only thing I'm allowed to do is wipe my a*se. Wouldn't wish that on anyone though! </div><div><br /></div><div>Nutritionally it's a world apart being home, the food is damn fine, it's tasty and made with love. My mouth is much better than it has been, it doesn't hurt now but there's still a distinct lack of saliva which makes bread and dry products a real no no. Imagine eating loads of cream crackers without drinking anything, that's what it's like from the first mouth full. So it's juicy food from here on in for a while, Wend makes a fab risotto and boy did that hit the spot, my stomach has shrunk which may be a blessing in disguise but doesn't help when you have a lovely dish of food in front of you!</div><div><br /></div><div>So today we went for a check up, bloods taken and a private waiting room so we're not exposed to the great unwashed! After the usual wait we went down for the consultation.</div><div><br /></div><div>First question from the consultant wasn't how are you or any problems? Nope it was, so we did have any chemo therapy then? It threw me for a second or two but then the blood results came out of the file. Not only have I been one of the quickest to be sent home but my platelets were the highest at this point of treatment than anyone's ever had before. Usually they expect a count of 20 by day 20 and 50 by day 50. Today my platelet count was 138! How or why I have no idea but it was.</div><div><br /></div><div>So the next two weeks it's rest and recuperation, another check up on Friday and then all being well weekly check up's. Then it's get better, get fit and get on with my life. I'm scared that something will go wrong but I'm not going to dwell on it, too much. This is the risky bit, while my bloods are still weak (comparatively) I have to be careful of not catching a cold or getting an infection of any sort as it could make the last three weeks of life a little pointless! Oh well we see what the next few weeks bring and how my body recovers.</div>nick harthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12730378126329491132noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8466555734430288408.post-71157161298966993292010-10-02T19:35:00.007+01:002010-10-02T20:09:38.255+01:00It's been f*cking hardworkApologies for not posting before but it's been a bit up and down the last couple of weeks. Well a lot of down and lots of little heart shaped highs but mostly down.<div><br /></div><div>They said this was high dose treatment and boy oh boy they weren't kidding. I can't put into words how it's felt as I have nothing to compare it with, it's so much worse than man flu it's just not funny. But when you're out of breath having walked to the toilet and showering means taking a nap after (there's a lot to shower but that's not the point!) to recover it's pants. Walking like a really old person shuffling my feet along didn't bring joy to Wendy's heart either.</div><div><br /></div><div>I have no idea what I would have done without her unbelievable support. The love hearts are such an amazing thing to do, to have the idea and then go round people and ask for their thoughts or comments. But then she brought them a little at a time, not all at once just a few everyday and it's just been the highlight of my life. The things people have written are giving me an emotional strength that I didn't know existed. They've prompted some good outbursts of tears, cheers Jase you really know how to make a grown man cry!</div><div><br /></div><div>It's been hardest for those few lucky enough to be visiting, Wendy, mum and dad. They have seen me at my lowest they have seen the days when I have slept and slept and slept. They have seen the blood drain from my face and the injections and the bags of chemicals going into someone they love. Which are there to kill off the most basic thing a human needs after food and water, their immune system. I'm lucky as ever because the nursing staff are looking after me, the doctors are trying to keep me alive and give me more life than no treatment would bring and if I sleep then I sleep and no one interrupts that except for injections or blood letting or observations.</div><div><br /></div><div>I have had a good couple of days yesterday and today, I've actually drunk some fluids. Prior to this weekend my mouth was sore like the back of beyond. Most people know of the sensation when they've had a couple too many the night before and it feels like a budgerigar has moved in over night, well this little blighter had razor blades on the bottom of his feet. Not good, my mouth wouldn't open fully, speech was slow and slurred and it hurt like fucking hell. Sorry for the language but it did. The only people going near my mouth were the ones who could prescribe the good drugs, cocaine mouthwash was underwhelming as it happens!</div><div><br /></div><div>My tummy has been a bit upset by the lack of foods, mind you it was very upset by the food it started out on, lets just say trumping has been a bit of a lottery..........I'll leave that for you to decipher.</div><div><br /></div><div>The best day for me was Thursday. Wendy's birthday, although it would have been better waking up next to her in our bed in our house, it was fabulous seeing her dressed up to go out for lunch and I managed to time being a bit brighter with her visit. I just want to take the hurt from her heart and the girls hearts too, tie it to a rocket and launch it into space. Anyway she had a nice time and looked beautiful and the girls did a fabulous job of getting some surprises sorted for her, I'm so proud of them.</div><div><br /></div><div>I don't want to make light of the last couple of weeks as I feel better today because it's been the worst couple of weeks of my life. But out of the worst weeks have come the best emotions, the most support the most admiration for human kind. The hearts have been a talking point for staff and myself and they've been a constant support when I wake in the middle of the night and I start to wonder. I read and I wonder no more. </div>nick harthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12730378126329491132noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8466555734430288408.post-7344290050738898182010-09-26T10:00:00.000+01:002010-09-27T22:02:25.590+01:00Hearts<div>Hello it's Wend here, Nick has asked me to post a little update. Basically he had his stem cell transplant last Wednesday. He has been pretty poorly ever since. He is managing to sleep lots, and we are trying to take it a day at a time. He is an inspiration to me with his courage and determination, and it breaks my heart every day to see him suffer. But he retains his unique sense of humor you'll be pleased to know! </div><div><br /></div><div> The main things he has asked me to pass on are apologies if he does not reply to text messages. But mostly thanks for the messages of love and support he has received. Below is a picture of some of the hearts he has received in his room. Please keep your messages coming they give him so much strength. You can either sent them to me at home or to Nick Hart, Ward P4, Royal Hallamshire Hospital. Thank you. x</div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi45kuEEBF8E5Lu6cmNosAqAq380Qbab2W1kCw-whdfeN29pKOyFOXFSnDux5SX-6iXSLw4TyCI48gO6dMJWWbN1dRgpSRzDocCm3BTMpUUUpWEmVwoQqQSUodjscEyP6Dcnf_UmWzID9g/s1600/Image0041.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi45kuEEBF8E5Lu6cmNosAqAq380Qbab2W1kCw-whdfeN29pKOyFOXFSnDux5SX-6iXSLw4TyCI48gO6dMJWWbN1dRgpSRzDocCm3BTMpUUUpWEmVwoQqQSUodjscEyP6Dcnf_UmWzID9g/s320/Image0041.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5520077309524915298" /></a>nick harthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12730378126329491132noreply@blogger.com0