A wondering dilemma

My Oncologist spelt it out clearly. He was professional, understanding and, I felt, compassionate toward my dilemma. His phone call to me was in response to my requesting a self funded further CT scan before my major Oesophagael surgery in a few weeks time.

Without medical knowledge I figured it as the only way I was going to know if my cancer tumours had reduced enough for me to make the decision surgery or no surgery. My Oncologist pointed out the danger, of another dose of ingested radiation so soon after my last scan, plus, he stated quite clearly a scan so soon would show little difference thereby leaving me with the same quandary as before alongside the addition of a sizeable credit card bill to boot.  Persuasive evidence.

He was skillfully accurate as he firmly said; 'I have to make my mind up now on the evidence and facts already available' . Hmmmm!

Now; I have never doubted the skill and professionalism of the NHS during my Oesophagal cancer journey. The fact they are offering me a 'curative' option is, in this day and age of cancer complexity and commonality, nothing short of a miracle. My 'curative' NHS surgical option also has a weight of solid evidence available via Internets multiple sources and through personal attendance of survivor groups. A clear, straight forward and powerful lobby.

The downside of this major surgery is merely a compromised body and lifestyle should I be fortunate enough to become a survivor.

So the dilemma, I face is, and I freely admit to it, of my own making. But never the less it is a dilemma that has caused me (and those close to me... Nuff said!) mental lowness, anxiety but most of all frustration.

Being on the edge of huge medical breakthroughs while having on offer 'Clinical Excellence' based on historical evidence is a place cleverly designed to foster such Frustration. You, ie the medical profession, cannot move fast. The mobile phone market, on the other hand, can move fast. Their research is ongoing and live and, as we all know, causes app failure and continuing updating. But it doesn't kill people. That's why the medical world  moves slower and with caution. Clinical Excellence based on historical evidence is there as an NHS discipline because it kills as few of us as possible.

For me, there is no doubt the rise of Genetics, Epigenetics and Gut Biometric science is going to revolutionise medical science and practise over the next decade or so. At present though, and in reference to cancer, such choices come under the heading of 'Alternative'. Exploring and searching for a 'Curative' option down such 'Alternative' pathways has taken me to a place familiar and recognised from my life history. A place where I am pretty good and do on the whole 'try my very best' with usually some success. I do not however; go to a place where total obsession, dedication and precise planning are prerequisite requirements. It just aint me.

What this 'Alternative' research and ongoing practice has given me is greatly increased knowledge and, I believe, a physical body in a much improved cancer fighting/surviving state. What it has not given me is enough solid evidence to enable me to be courageous enough, or to make clear enough judgement, enabling me to say no to the offered curative option of major surgery.

I am sad but not dismayed or particularly surprised by this conclusion. What I am faced with, as always, is the difficulty in now moving forward with this 'Curative' surgical option while at the same time carrying with me the frustration of never quite knowing whether my 'Alternative' had done enough in conjunction with my chemotherapy, and strict continuation of 'Alternative', to enable my rejuvenated physical systems to deal effectively with the cancer residue.

I will always be left wondering.

El Chorro

This post dated 26/01/2015 is one of my favourites & I mistakenly deleted it. This is it now reinstated from back up. Unfortunately 'Blogger' does not allow me to replace in sequence.
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Quote from the 'Rough Guide' for Spain;

'Fifty kilometres NW of Malaga Garganta del Chorro (gorge of ... ) is an amazing place. An immense five-kilometre long cleft in a vast limestone massif, which has become Andalucia's major centre for rock climbers.'

Well here I am. Perched in a prime spot right above 'El Chorro' the village, complete with train station, and looking straight down the first part of the gorge. I tell you it is worth having to park next to the local bin compound for such a view while tucking into a, made it all myself n it's one of my better ones, chicken curry.

The place, as stated, is a rock climbers, mountain bikers and walkers heaven. Not a hundred metres down the narrow track are two vans full of young Brits here for the climbing. The place is not what you would call Mediterranian warm but then it is January and there is snow on the higher peaks. All OK by me. I'm snug as a bug in Sadie.

Last night I stayed near the Buddhist Stupa at 'Benalmadena Pueblo'. A favourite place of mine where I have a quiet and safe wildcamp spot overlooking the coastline all the way up to Malaga. There is a 'teaching' at the Stupa this coming Sunday which I will attend. So; three days to explore the area before I need to return for the 'teaching'. Healthwise I am not feeling too bad either. Its the Onions, Garlic and Avocado I reckon. (they were all in the curry!) Weather forcast is looking good and 'on the improve' for the next few days therefore a good chance to explore the high hilly Andalucian hinterland.

I set off not bothering with Mrs Sat nav as I was only going to nip back down the N340 coastal road to Fuengirola to a Carrfour supermarket.

Mistake Steve. Big mistake.

Took the wrong turn off did'nt I.

"S'funny Tanya; how come we've ended up down Fuengirola's main, and bloody busy, drag. Ho Hum; concentrate now, Aha! thought so, she's now going to try n reverse into that spot which she aint gonna do cos a large swanky Jag like that aint gonna fit where a battered Ford Fiesta has just pulled out. No good you'se lot behind beepin yer horn at me. We all gotta wait till she of smart Jag importance cottons on. Ahhh; There she goes. She figured it out at last and here we go, all moving again. Hey! Will you look at that Tanya a big parking lot with loadsa motorhomes. Winker on, hang a right and we're in".

We were too. A handy spot to remember. Water available, two minute walk to the beach plus a supermarket just across the road. I thought I would stay the night but after doing my shopping and taking on water I just left. No messin. Turned the key, swung her round and just left.
I wanted the hills not a busy Costa del Sol holiday resort motorhome park.

This time Mrs Sat nav was given full employment in a managerial role. She beautifully guided via smaller roads (read narrow bendy and bumpy) to this lovely spot overlooking 'El Chorro'.
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This area is stunning but decidely Brit land. On my sightseeing trip around the area today I have met: Glasgow couple gathering up all their gear for a days climbing in the sunshine: X pat Dad on a trip with his children to where his wife's, their Mum's, ashes are scattered: Older English lady now living in France but staying locally to paint: "The light here is so stunning my dear": Retired Irish couple from Dublin up from their apartment in Estepona to view the ruins of 'Bombasta'.

These ruins were further down the hill and were the eigth/ninth century stronghold of a local rebel Muslim turned Christian Bully boy if you like. Todays world is unfortunately still very much affected by similar unsavoury characters. Don't agree with the rules so lets do some killing, raping, plundering, land grabbing and enslaving to scare the shite out of everyone so as we can have it all.

Irish lady was upset as she could not find these ruins. I've found even earlier ruins though. By accident. I happened to be parked for the night right by them. They are a series of sheltered Southerly facing wind and rain carved shallow caves occupied from prehistoric time. I noticed the worn steps carved into the rock leading to some of them.

I enjoyed a wonderful meditation in one of these deep overhangs on a precipitously steep slope. Slipping and falling would have been curtains for sure, but you could see for miles. They were indeed sheltered from the cold wind but caught the considerable warmth of a January afternoon sun. I could see and strongly feel why our earliest ancestors would choose such an attractive spot to settle in.

The ruins still attract too. The local herd of bell ringing sheep seen far below on the opposite side of the valley have left clearly visible hoof marks and wooly body imprints evidencing their regular and recent visits.

I've ended up staying two days/nights in this quiet and peaceful spot. Saturday, that's today, has been busier but most of the sightseeing traffic gaze curiously at Sadie as they pass us by on their way to the Mirador (viewpoint) half a kilometre further on.

Earlier today I grabbed binoculars and we took a short walk to the other side of this mountain top resevoir to watch the Griffin Vultures soaring in the updfafts of the huge gorge. Mesmerising and spectacular. Tanya was fine as these birds are on the lookout for dead carrion.

One of their own was unfortunately and decidedly dead just under a tall aerial tower adorning the peak. So sad to see this recently beautiful and giant master of the air deceased. I chanted a wee mantra and restored soaring wings to his/her spirit. I swear the others knew as eight to ten of them stacked and soared in circles above my head. I could hear them chattering away as I quietly stood there. I moved on and so did they. Unexplainable and enriching.

OPA plus a Wiltshire Pasty.

"Two months ago" I exclaimed.

"yes" he replied. "Two months and four days". 

Sat to my left, a gentleman the same age as myself who, two months before had undergone a major surgical procedure called an 'osophagetonomy'. To my right a fifty four year old guy who had gone thru the same op seven months previous.

This was my first 'Oesophagal (cancer) Patients Association' meeting with about seventy others who had either gone thru the same major surgery or who were spouses/family.

I could not believe these two guys were here, stood up on their own hind legs, supping tea and eating cake so soon after such major surgery . My anxieties, fears and worries about this major surgery, of which I was about to commit, were being laid to rest. Not only by the warmth and openness of these survivors but also by the welcome I received from the Portsmouth Queen Alexandria hospitals Oncology team.

My operation will be at a different Hospital but I was encouraged and warmed (almost to tears I may add) by the skill, openness and acceptance from the QA Consultant surgeon who answered my questions honestly, warmly and with not a shred of any 'us and them' mentality.

I felt a sense of relief and a surge of confidence as I talked it over with my son during the drive back. Even later the Buddhist principle of 'Four abundant abodes' came to mind. Love, compassion, joy and to level it all up, equanimity. Our equanimity at the mornings meeting had been a reminder. A reminder that those attending, all survivors of the surgery and immediate recovery period, were the one third, the fortunate one third. The one third who had made it through.

It was a timely reminder that survival and recovery is not a given or a foregone conclusion. I have to put effort in too. I have to reduce risk by keeping fit, eating well & re-building both my gut biome and my immune system back to 'Fit for purpose' after the devastation caused to both by the deadly cruise missiles of chemotherapy.

So, no nipping into Reeves the baker for one of their delicious Wiltshire pasties or sweet Cinnamon whirls. Oh no no no....! I'm sorry Steveboy, it's continue on with the healthy Mediterranean diet & Probiotic pills.

Shhhh, n don't tell anyone but I did celebrate my relief and joy at having made a solid, surgery decision with the guilt ridden purchase of one small Wiltshire Pasty. I'm sure having just the one won't harm will it ..? Gosh it was good though ....

D'you think one more would be ok?

Beast from the East & Caribbean

Well now. That's cheered me up. A blog from M. A lovely solo lady Motorhomer at present in Southern Portugal. As I sit in the warmth of a Wiltshire, UK, centrally heated house viewing the snowy deposits of a meeting between 'Beast from the East' and storm 'Emma' it is comforting to note storm Emma has also affected Portugal with high wind and torrential rain.

I can attest with certainty that a motorhome is not ideal accommodation when faced with more than a couple of days of severe weather. My two remaining brain cells can recall several early morning awakenings to the deafening sound of torrential rain on Sadies/Foxy10's roof as we rocked wildly at the mercy of fierce gusty winds. Most times it was a no brainer. Up sticks and move East or West to better weather, which, of course is the beauty and the whole point of living fultime in a motorhome.

Ironically, and directly related to this March 1st 2018 bitterly cold 'Beast from the East' snow storm, is the very start of my Motorhoming life. On todays UK news they are using words such as 'unprecedented', 'most unusual' and 'once in a decade'. The latter is true albeit it was slightly less than a decade when, in 2010 Scotlands central belt, was affected by similar conditions which lingered, with temperatures touching -15°c, for three weeks.

I was in that central belt, in East Kilbride, during that time. I was not in the best of places having recently lost my dear wife Kate and in general unsure as to where life was going to take me. I remember it was so cold I had to carry Tanya across the treated roads as the frozen salt stuck to her feet and damaged her pads. She loved the open snow though and bounded away into and among it.

One particularly cold and gloomy day, both mentally and weather wise, I distinctly remember, as I despondently stared out of the window, saying to myself;

"Steveboy. We ain't going thru another winter like this."

This 2018 winter with it's coincidentaly similar 'unprecedented' wintery conditions is the first full winter I have spent in the UK since uttering those words. My many Blog entries tell of my intervening fultime Motorhoming 'Continental winters'

Not that it is all doom and gloom mind you. Far from it. I am now on my 3rd and final round of Chemotherapy and here I am feeling Ok and with zest for life still coursing through my veins. Foxy10 is with a local motorhome dealer on a sale or return basis and, as far as I'm aware, not yet sold.

Steveboy has a plan!!...... I know... I don't do plans do I. OK; so let's call it an idea. You see I have a few weeks of recovery before my surgery is due where I may just go get Foxy10 back, load her up again, and head off into the sunset for one more adventure. Watch this space.
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Richard & I have just been graced by the appearance of Hana for a few days. Hana is from the Czech Republic and a former carer for Richard. She is an outward looking and adventurous girl and en route to 'Dominica', a small Caribbean island with connections and friends from her previous adventures. The island was recently and seriously devastated by Hurricane and Hana was returning to help out wherever she could.

She arrived with clothing all set for her Caribbean adventure and understandably was a little disorientated to find herself in extreme UK winter conditions more akin to the Artic.

I accompanied her to Salisbury station this morning and am pleased to say, despite all the rail and road chaos she is now on a London bound train and hopefully will make her flight from Gatwick tomorrow.

Bon Voyage H and please send back a little of that warm Caribbean sunshine.