Deep discussions with Mad Best Friend on implications of chemotherapy which she is currently undergoing. She is slightly worried that she will go bald all over her body as a fellow-chemo patient had confided to her that he was 'as smooth as a lady down below'. Given that he was a bald heavily tattooed biker type, she didn't know whether to giggle or to feel the fear. Researching wigs on line, she came across merkins which apparently were introduced to cover up one's lady bits and which my darling daughter told me were de rigeur for ladies of the night in earlier ages to cover up the ravages of venereal diseases. She also informed me that it was the fashion for ladies to shave themselves in the middle ages (not the menopause, medieval times) to get rid of lice and they too had merkins. The mind boggles at prospect of all that going on in what one assumed were tranquil times. Not so evidently.
However it spurred MBF into googling the word and discovering that merkins are available on Amazon - strangely disconcerting but then Amazon will sell anything. I bet they sell lion poo to gardeners.
The next step for MBF was naturally to crochet a complet set of merkins and to pass them on to me! Go figure. Darling daughter's best friend has now decided that she would like a bespoke merkin for party nights - I blame it all on the internet, and lax parenting.
MBF and I are also in the throes of sorting things out for our August art exhibition. The restrictions and restraints are a bit frightening but am sure we will survive it all with a strong brandy or two. Perhaps we could mount a small merkin exhibition; perhaps not.
Have somehow involved myself in the setting up of two independent art classes in addition to the art group which I am trying to revive. Just cannot keep my nose out of things. But it's such fun to be getting things up and running. As long as they do it my way, of course......
Darling daughter has made offer on nice house and survey ok so it's all systems go. Fingers crossed owners manage to get an offer on their new house pretty quickly.
Can't wait to get my hair cut and coloured, am beginning to resemble a tacky grimy piece of candy floss and on that delightful note, will sign off for today.
Thursday, May 30, 2013
Tuesday, May 21, 2013
At last am beginning to feel better
simply because today I have been sketching in both Victoria and Piccadilly railways stations with two rather special ladies - the other members of our group are obviously too delicate to venture out on a grey day like today. Have come to the conclusion - quite a long time ago - that Manchester City Council are vandals and profiteers judging by the number of lovely old buildings which they have demolished and sold off to greedy property developers for more and more "apartments" - dingy little flats to you and me. If a family of kittens could live comfortably in some of them, I'd be extremely surprised. Nowhere is this more apparent than at the old London Road Fire Station, a fantastic building bought by the vile Britannia Hotels property group many years ago and which they have been pushing and pushing to get the Council to let them demolish it and building yet another hotel - same comment as for "apartments" applies. This originated, I think, at the time when the wholesale removal of the BBC to Manchester was on the cards and the Britannia group, along with many other Home Counties property developers, saw a killing if they provided ratholes for the fleeting visits of BBC presenters. As it is, same presenters seem to have either picked ratholes in Salford or are charging exorbitant travelling expenses to commute to and from London and Salford - and we, Joe Public, are footing the bill for this. But, on the whole, I'd rather pay their expenses than to have the lovely old fire station wrecked. As it is, Britannia have never, in the long long years they have owned this building, done any repairs, had any windows cleaned, painted any part of the building so that buddleia bushes have sprouted from the rather beautiful cupolas and bell-towers that adorn the roofline. A curse on them all, I say.
But anyway, a delightful time sketching even though the station was, and is usually, cold. Some lovely old features retained and melded in with more modern additions. Sad to see the beautiful old bars and bookshops at Victoria Station in such dire need of tender loving care. How adventurous and how inspiring those Victorian architects and builders were. Not a roofline which doesn't have something of interest to delight the eye.
So sketched and photographed the fire station as much as I could, given the awkward angle available.
Then to Fred Aldous where I was disappointed in what was available but then discovered - or at least hope I have discovered - that they may have a room available for our putative independent art learning group. Must email them to night, as I have done the railways property people and also the Friends' Meeting House on the corner of Mount Street. Fingers crossed we shall succeed in getting a decent sized room for a peppercorn rent.
Then on to the Blyth Gallery, a very small and independent art shop, where I was able to buy some Brusho to experiment with and a small travelling watercolour box for sketching outside. Something which I may do tomorrow at Dukes 92 and the Castlefield area generally, although I'd really love to do the Roman fort and the stone sheep. I am also somewhat enamoured of sketching the Beatham Tower, a most unusual and inspiring building to draw.
Mad Best Friend has commenced her chemotherapy and is involved in some intriguing discussions with her fellow chemotherapees, if there is such a word. She is hoping that the chemo, if it makes her hair fall out, will recompense by giving her thicker hair with curls - it is currently straight and fine. And if it is red, even better. her musings, as a result of her co-chemotherapees' observations, have led her to realise that hair everywhere else is likely to disappear and she is now fretting that the hair may reappear thicker and wilder than ever. If men can buy chest-wigs, I am sure there must be wigs for other parts of the body. Not that the prospect of wearing such a wig sounds very comfortable, but if it makes her happy....
Dear art tutor has had stuff sent across the Atlantic for her to take part in the trial and it is making her feel very sick indeed but apparently she is able to get out and about and her facebook page makes it sound as if she is becoming more active,, certainly painting again which she has not done for ages.
Spent last Thursday at the MRI A&E again with Beloved Husband - originally a suspected heart attack but later thought to be a pulled chest muscle. Bit of a puzzle how that happened unless it was lifting the megaton moggy onto his knee? Who knows.
But anyway, a delightful time sketching even though the station was, and is usually, cold. Some lovely old features retained and melded in with more modern additions. Sad to see the beautiful old bars and bookshops at Victoria Station in such dire need of tender loving care. How adventurous and how inspiring those Victorian architects and builders were. Not a roofline which doesn't have something of interest to delight the eye.
So sketched and photographed the fire station as much as I could, given the awkward angle available.
Then to Fred Aldous where I was disappointed in what was available but then discovered - or at least hope I have discovered - that they may have a room available for our putative independent art learning group. Must email them to night, as I have done the railways property people and also the Friends' Meeting House on the corner of Mount Street. Fingers crossed we shall succeed in getting a decent sized room for a peppercorn rent.
Then on to the Blyth Gallery, a very small and independent art shop, where I was able to buy some Brusho to experiment with and a small travelling watercolour box for sketching outside. Something which I may do tomorrow at Dukes 92 and the Castlefield area generally, although I'd really love to do the Roman fort and the stone sheep. I am also somewhat enamoured of sketching the Beatham Tower, a most unusual and inspiring building to draw.
Mad Best Friend has commenced her chemotherapy and is involved in some intriguing discussions with her fellow chemotherapees, if there is such a word. She is hoping that the chemo, if it makes her hair fall out, will recompense by giving her thicker hair with curls - it is currently straight and fine. And if it is red, even better. her musings, as a result of her co-chemotherapees' observations, have led her to realise that hair everywhere else is likely to disappear and she is now fretting that the hair may reappear thicker and wilder than ever. If men can buy chest-wigs, I am sure there must be wigs for other parts of the body. Not that the prospect of wearing such a wig sounds very comfortable, but if it makes her happy....
Dear art tutor has had stuff sent across the Atlantic for her to take part in the trial and it is making her feel very sick indeed but apparently she is able to get out and about and her facebook page makes it sound as if she is becoming more active,, certainly painting again which she has not done for ages.
Spent last Thursday at the MRI A&E again with Beloved Husband - originally a suspected heart attack but later thought to be a pulled chest muscle. Bit of a puzzle how that happened unless it was lifting the megaton moggy onto his knee? Who knows.
Sunday, May 12, 2013
Slightly better news
Well, dear art tutor has been told the cancer has not spread to her liver, thyroid etc and the news from Belgium is that she is, or has, a mutation which makes her one of only 300 people in the world and only one of one at Christies with this particular form of the disease. Not sure that it improves her prognosis but it does mean she gets different treatment and she may be considered as part of a trial going on in America (the only place where trials are taking place apparently). Expect this means they will send stuff over here for her. She is still receiving some form of treatment, chemotherapy, I think. So feel it is good news but not celebrating.
Whereas Mad Best Friend has received results of biopsy which indicate stray cells in her lymph glands, therefore aggressive chemotherapy for three months. Beloved Sister tells me this is good news as only those considered likely for a cure are offered 'aggressive' chemo. Rather frightening and MBF is understandably apprehensive about it all. Treatment starts on Thursday but am hoping she will make it to our art workshop on Tuesday evening to elevate her spirits a little.
had offered to drive her to Wythenshawe Hospital for her treatments and believe me, that was no light offer. Had to drive Beloved Husband there last week for a meeting with consultant and possible scan. It's an absolute hellpit to find, Manchester Council - or whoever looks after this area - not deeming it necessary to give any helpful signs indicating whereabouts the hellpit is situated, nor how to get there. Set off about an hour early and eventually arrived via many many many mistaken routes and with many many many unintelligible directions from people who actually live near the hellpit...aaarrrghghgh!!! Then when you arrive, there are about fifty different car parking areas, all of which are difficult, if not impossible, to park in if you have a vehicle bigger than Noddy's car, and the parking price! It cost us £3 to park there for 30 minutes because, as it turned out, the appointment was NOT at Wythenshawe but at bloody Withington Hospital. Aaarrghghgh again!
Off we trotted to Withington where it cost us £2 to park (graduated parking fees, you see, unlike the hellpit hospital) but thankfully the consultant was happy to see Beloved Husband even though we were over an hour late and the news was brilliant. No cancerous lump in neck as originally suggested, but an ongoing side effect of neck surgery many years ago. Indeed it is almost 20 years since he had the radiotherapy and surgery on his neck so he is very very lucky indeede especially as some people in the waiting area had o very obviously had bad news.
Anyway, I digress. MadBest Friend has discovered next door but one neighbour works at the hellpit hospital and has inveigled her into taking her along at the ungodly hour of 7am and her husband will collect at teatime. Clever girl.
since last posting, have attended a couple of classes and sketching trips and these will be the last leisure classes that the vile and greedy Manchester Council will ever hold, the bastards. But they have been good and I hope that our plans to run an independent art class come to fruition. The problem is when any large group of people get together to organise something, it invariably results in arguments and mayhem. Let us pray for better things with our planned classes.
Have asked vet about filleting the little feral cat (Errol the Feral) and he is enthusiastic but have had to wait until Darling Daughter available to come here and cat it and stuff it into cat basket and take it along to vet with me. Tomorrow was the chosen date but as I explained to vet nurse this morning, I am pretty sure that Errol is actually a female (thus Beryl the Feral) who is bulging at the sides with what I am sure are 16 kittens. Too late for the filleting. Looks like I shall have to help Beryl with her kitty kindergarten until kitties 4/5 weeks old and then ship her off to the vet and the kitties off to the RSPCA. No way can I keep loads of kitties....this is what comes of feeding stray cats....
Saw my old workmates on Friday for an excellent gluten-free pizza at Croma. Good service, good food, great company. Had been feeling very depressed this week but meeting all the old idiots lifted my spirits immensely. Love them to bits and can't wait for our next lunch. Although will have to save up the pennies as am seriously overdrawn - more money going out each month than coming in. What happened to all the governmental promises over the last 50-odd years that I was paying then what I would be reaping now - luxurious retirement. Hahahah, yes, that happened alright. And a wonderful company pension of £250 per year - that's right, per year.
Ah well, as my old mum used to say, there are many in the churchyard who would be glad to be me. And on that dreary note, I shall stop posting.
Whereas Mad Best Friend has received results of biopsy which indicate stray cells in her lymph glands, therefore aggressive chemotherapy for three months. Beloved Sister tells me this is good news as only those considered likely for a cure are offered 'aggressive' chemo. Rather frightening and MBF is understandably apprehensive about it all. Treatment starts on Thursday but am hoping she will make it to our art workshop on Tuesday evening to elevate her spirits a little.
had offered to drive her to Wythenshawe Hospital for her treatments and believe me, that was no light offer. Had to drive Beloved Husband there last week for a meeting with consultant and possible scan. It's an absolute hellpit to find, Manchester Council - or whoever looks after this area - not deeming it necessary to give any helpful signs indicating whereabouts the hellpit is situated, nor how to get there. Set off about an hour early and eventually arrived via many many many mistaken routes and with many many many unintelligible directions from people who actually live near the hellpit...aaarrrghghgh!!! Then when you arrive, there are about fifty different car parking areas, all of which are difficult, if not impossible, to park in if you have a vehicle bigger than Noddy's car, and the parking price! It cost us £3 to park there for 30 minutes because, as it turned out, the appointment was NOT at Wythenshawe but at bloody Withington Hospital. Aaarrghghgh again!
Off we trotted to Withington where it cost us £2 to park (graduated parking fees, you see, unlike the hellpit hospital) but thankfully the consultant was happy to see Beloved Husband even though we were over an hour late and the news was brilliant. No cancerous lump in neck as originally suggested, but an ongoing side effect of neck surgery many years ago. Indeed it is almost 20 years since he had the radiotherapy and surgery on his neck so he is very very lucky indeede especially as some people in the waiting area had o very obviously had bad news.
Anyway, I digress. MadBest Friend has discovered next door but one neighbour works at the hellpit hospital and has inveigled her into taking her along at the ungodly hour of 7am and her husband will collect at teatime. Clever girl.
since last posting, have attended a couple of classes and sketching trips and these will be the last leisure classes that the vile and greedy Manchester Council will ever hold, the bastards. But they have been good and I hope that our plans to run an independent art class come to fruition. The problem is when any large group of people get together to organise something, it invariably results in arguments and mayhem. Let us pray for better things with our planned classes.
Have asked vet about filleting the little feral cat (Errol the Feral) and he is enthusiastic but have had to wait until Darling Daughter available to come here and cat it and stuff it into cat basket and take it along to vet with me. Tomorrow was the chosen date but as I explained to vet nurse this morning, I am pretty sure that Errol is actually a female (thus Beryl the Feral) who is bulging at the sides with what I am sure are 16 kittens. Too late for the filleting. Looks like I shall have to help Beryl with her kitty kindergarten until kitties 4/5 weeks old and then ship her off to the vet and the kitties off to the RSPCA. No way can I keep loads of kitties....this is what comes of feeding stray cats....
Saw my old workmates on Friday for an excellent gluten-free pizza at Croma. Good service, good food, great company. Had been feeling very depressed this week but meeting all the old idiots lifted my spirits immensely. Love them to bits and can't wait for our next lunch. Although will have to save up the pennies as am seriously overdrawn - more money going out each month than coming in. What happened to all the governmental promises over the last 50-odd years that I was paying then what I would be reaping now - luxurious retirement. Hahahah, yes, that happened alright. And a wonderful company pension of £250 per year - that's right, per year.
Ah well, as my old mum used to say, there are many in the churchyard who would be glad to be me. And on that dreary note, I shall stop posting.
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