Normal

I 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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Up there for thinking down there for dancing

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!

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.

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!

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.

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!

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!

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.

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.

It was a bit parky!

No time for sitting, it's time for doing.

I likes steel I does

20 minutes from a big city!

Shed time

I'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.

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.

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.

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.

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!

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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!

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.

Merry Christmas

Like it says Merry Christmas. Wendy and I are having a phone and web free Christmas so greetings are a little early.

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.

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!

Have a great time, love to all.

Traditions

Some 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.

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.

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.

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!

Whether the ice skating in the peace gardens makes it into tradition I'm not sure but the post panto curry may!

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.

Christmas Show time

Sometimes 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.

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.

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!

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.

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.

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.

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.

Other peoples stories

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.

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.

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!

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!

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.

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!

Me making a big bike look average! (yes that's facial hair too!)

Mark going reet fast!

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.

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!

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?

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.