Friday, 25 October 2013

Something's afoot

With apologies to sis no 3, who is a bit phobic about feet (and frogs and felt, she's a bit wussy really)

Even though, for the past twenty-odd years, I've lived just half an hour away from Wolverhampton I had never set foot inside the art gallery there.  I rectified this error this week when sis no 1 and I went to see the Ron Mueck exhibition.  It was amazing.  It's only on until 2nd November so if there are any Wolvo residents reading this get yourselves down there pronto.  The pieces are fantastically life-like.  At the risk of coming across like some kind of weird foot-fetishist (I'm not, honest) look at this:

You can see the whole piece by clicking here
There are only five pieces of his work at the gallery but by jimminy they are worth seeing.  None are to scale.  They are either smaller than life or like, 'Wildman', absolutely huge:

One of the gallery workers said that this work gave him the willies late at night.  Make of that what you will.

Sis no 1 and I also stayed for the curator's talk which was fascinating.  If there's a form to fill in I'm requesting to come back as a curator in my next life, that or a wombat (cute) or maybe a camel (I'd like the uninhibited spitting opportunities).

Health wise I seem to be doing OK, continuing with the drug trial and keeping my fingers crossed.  Today I went to the local GP for a general once over (cholesterol, blood pressure that kind of thing).  Turns out I'm a picture of health.  Apart from the sodding advanced cancer of course.  

Anyway, buoyed up by the news that I'm not in too back nick all things considered, I bounced into town and made a start on the Christmas shopping (don't hate me).



 
 

Sunday, 13 October 2013

My favourite things

WARNING:  In this blog post I indulge in two of my favourite things; getting on my high horse and mocking the other-half. Here goes, high horse territory first


This is the ribbon for Secondary Breast Cancer (no pink shit for us, we're hardcore)

 
So, it's 13th October.  Secondary Breast Cancer (SBC) Awareness Day.  Have you been bombarded with information on SBC in the press and on the tv and radio today?  Yeah, me neither.  Twelve thousand people dying of it every year in the UK alone and yet the coverage is hopeless.  It's not the sort of pink, happy, it's-all-going-to-be-ok message the media likes I suppose.  If you have two minutes to spare please have a look at a short film, available by clicking here.  It's not particularly comfortable viewing but it says a great deal in a short time. 

OK, now on to mockery.  The other-half, on waking a couple of mornings ago, turned to me and said "I dreamt I had to have a shower with Monty Don"I looked at him quizzically.  "I had to" he explained "otherwise I couldn't go into Monty's special garden".  Further questioning on my part revealed that he didn't mean "special garden" in the smutty way I was interpreting it, but he actually did mean a special garden where unique horticultural specimens were being raised so no trace of pollen or any other organic matter could be introduced.  Hmmm.  Why can't he just have sensible dreams like me?  The same night he was dreaming dreams of Monty I was being attacked by a flock of vicious kingfishers.  And yes I do take quite a lot of drugs.

Friday, 4 October 2013

October


Autumnal collage by Del age 52 and one quarter

As well as it being the season of mists and mellow do-dahs (in the northern hemisphere anyway), October is also Breast Cancer Awareness Month.  I know that lots of people, including me, find the pink, sparkly, tu-tu clad, cutesy wutesy woo-ness of some of the coverage/merchandise pretty hard to take.  While it pains me to link to the Daily Telegraph, Judith Potts, wrote an excellent short article there summing up why so many, especially those like me with secondary (or metastatic) breast cancer  loathe the cheery pastel-coloured, rose-spectacled tone of it all.  You can read the article here.

While I'm in misog-mode, six depressing words: The National Insistute for Clinical Excellence, or NICE to give it its completely inappropriate acronym.  NICE, among, other things determines which drugs/treatments are recommended for use by the National Health Service.  It has recently rejected two secondary breast cancer treatments.  If you are a British citizen or resident please consider signing this petition and passing it on to friends and family.

On a happier note, Breast Cancer Care have released an excellent film on body image and breast cancer, which can be viewed by clicking here.  One of the participants, Ismena, has Secondary Breast Cancer.  She writes for The Independent and also has a brilliant blog, A Bit of a Boob, which is listed under 'Seconday Breast Cancer Blogs' on the right of this page.  By the way, I've updated the blog list but I'm always looking for new blogs on this topic so if you know of any which I haven't listed do please let me know.

Other good news is that the Cancer Drug Fund is being extended until 2016.  This fund allows many patients in England access to drugs they wouldn't otherwise be prescribed.

I realise this has been a bit of a downbeat post, but sometimes cancer is just one big borefest.  However, please don't desert me.  I'm pathetic enough to leap up and punch the air when my 'number of times blog viewed' counter goes up and I have been known to start a one-woman Mexican wave if someone from a distant country clicks on my blog.  If you promise to come back again I'll tell you all about the other-half's gardening mojo and his adventure with a hot air balloon.  What?  Stop yawning.  Come back!