Not the Best Week…



On Monday my new Android Tablet arrived. Plugged it in to charge, and instantly the screen was full of Chinese writing! Don’t say I had made yet another mistake!  I’m still reeling from trying to master Windows 10 on that other tablet.

Finished reading and editing the book review for Rosie Amber and emailed it.

Gardening is out, as a storm is forecast, and as much as I love a good storm, I draw the line at gardening in the pouring rain…

The weather was horrible on Tuesday, gales and lashing rain, so guess where I was all day!

I had a brave moment and switched on the new tablet for the first time. The Chinese characters had gone, and within minutes, I was up and running, connecting to everything with one HUGE smile on my face. There are just a few wrinkles to sort out, but so far, so good! For me, that is…

The weather couldn’t be more different by the middle of the week, beautiful blue skies and sunshine. The garden beckons!

Still cannot believe my luck with the new Tablet, it’s so easy to use! The technology demons must be having a day off!

Thursday was freezing cold today, so guess what I had decided to do today? Defrost the freezer!

But it had to be done, or I won’t be able to close the door soon, due to the ice buildup.

The new broadband hub arrived on Friday. They say all I have to do, is unplug the old one and then plug in the new. But there has to be more to it than that…

I have been putting this upgrade off for ages, for all hell usually breaks loose whenever I touch it, so I am expecting trouble.

I want to try and install the new Hub on Saturday. But before I do this, ever pessimistic, I am scheduling several days work, just in case everything crashes around my ears. But if you hear screams …

There were no screams, just an all-pervading sense of doom when I had to use a wi-fi hotspot as the hub refused to connect. Mind you, they did say something about an activation date. I seem to recall that was tomorrow…

What am I like?  (don’t all rush to answer…)

Radiotherapy Gaga… (apologies to Freddie Mercury!)


(I have been trying to keep my head above the water, just like these guys!)


Today I had an appointment at the hospital for what they called ‘Mapping’. This is where they decide for the want of a better word, with the help of one huge space age machine; the best possible was of radiating my poor boob.

I very nearly cancelled this procedure, feeling it was possibly unnecessary, seeing as how the surgeon assured me he had successfully removed the entire tumour. The thought of three weeks, that’s 15 appointments, 15 days of being zapped by radiation strong enough to burn and possible shrivel this offending part of my anatomy.

I learned that it was wrong to think like that, for the tumour I had was ‘aggressive’ or malignant and there could still be some cells in there, on the verge of becoming nasty. By almost destroying every cell inside my boob, they could guarantee that I would be cancer free.

So I arrived, somewhat nervously, I admit, to be prodded, pushed and manipulated onto this massive machine. At least two technicians busied themselves, scribbling various marks and measurements in several different coloured inks all over my chest. It looked like they were enjoying themselves to me. Copious measurements were taken and marked, and then I was stretched out with my arms above my head in an impossible angle.

Then everyone left the room, a bit like lemmings if you ask me, leaving me lying there in this huge room like a museum exhibit. Then the machine lit up and started humming. The bit I was lying on moved slowly inside the machine, a beam of iridescent green light travelling up and down my body.

I was told beforehand that it was important that I keep still, no problem really, I was so nervous I even stopped breathing at one point.
They all seemed very pleased with their efforts, but before I could leave, there was one more little treat in store for me. So that they could line me up in exactly the right position for the 15 days of treatment, they would need to tattoo small dots on either side of my chest. Not sure if these are permanent, but it doesn’t really matter at this stage, for nude sunbathing is out of the question!

At one point, because I am dead nosy, I asked how they knew for sure whereabouts the tumour had been. Apparently, the surgeon inserts small titanium clips at the site to mark the spot for the very purpose of any radiation treatment. Don’t they have fun! I wonder if that means I shall cause a stir at the airport?

These posts about my trials and tribulations were written, basically because I was terrified when all of this happened to me, and if my account can in any way help someone else have the courage to check out anything even slightly out of the ordinary, it will have been time well spent.

Waiting for Spring


I sit here in front of my computer, hating myself for being as miserable as the weather has been lately, knowing I am made of stronger stuff. At least I think I still am. I have never let the weather get me down this bad before. But as you get older, winter seems to go on forever. The grey monotony of a cold, rainy days eats into your soul and you can be forgiven for thinking that this is it, no more happy sunshiny days. No more hope or inspiration.

I am getting quite old now and usually refuse to give in to the sneaky feeling that I’m supposed to be winding down and getting ready for the final switch off. Since my heart attack, I have been very aware that someone’s finger has been on that switch, just waiting for me to get too out of breath, or too angry or upset. I have been avoiding all those things, of course. But I am only human. Some days I feel like screaming out, ‘Just do it, get it over with!’ As I get sick and tired of all the waiting.
But other days, I am adamant that I am going nowhere, that I still have things to do. And I think that says it all. I should be going somewhere, but somewhere else.

As I sit here, looking out of my window at my all bonsai trees, they are waiting for Spring much as I am; snowflakes begin gently falling. They will not survive this time, I think, the ground is much too wet. But it is trying very hard, falling thickly now and getting nowhere. Nothing to show for all that effort. Why does that sound so familiar?

That is how I feel most days. Nothing much to show for all my time here on earth. Nothing much left, anyhow. When I climb out of the grey misery, those days when a little brightness peeps through the clouds, I have been wondering if there may be time for one last adventure. One last valiant effort to find some peace, some quiet beauty. Time to actually create something that will outlive me.

I think I have the strength for one last effort. I must have, for the courage has never left me. It seems to be all I have left…