HOWEVER LITTLE I WANT TO.
LAST WEEK WAS A SHIT WEEK,
As you will perhaps have heard if you are family or friend, that bastard cancer has hit our brave Roz again and this time it is in her liver, backbone, and lymph nodes. It is, she has been formally advised, treatable but not curable. Her immediate response was to circulate the above picture.
This in a week that started with news from friend of many years Ian Dillow of the negative result relayed to him by those monitoring his brain tumour treatment.
As he succinctly put it: “Just heard from hospital. Basically brain is buggered. No more treatment of any kind. Just a matter of time now. I’ll still fight all the way."
He would like, he tells us, to see Spring.
We'll second that: and more.
Here he is with with Jean.
Our kindest thoughts my dears.
AND THANKS BE FOR FAMILY AND FRIENDS.
Ironically, for want of a better word, on Friday of last week Roz (pictured below with her loyal Buddy) reached her fifty first birthday.
She had been warned of the unfavourable cancer news on the Wednesday, kept it from us until our return from my second covid vaccination on the Thursday (because she 'didn't want to worry us') and then, it being confirmed, broke the distressing news.
So her birthday wasn't quite the joyous occasion we had all hoped for.
There has been a vast outpouring of love and kindness from her many friends, though, and the quiet reassurance of support from all the family (including Pauline who is currently, with Neil's staunch help, recovering from cancer surgery undertaken recently at Southampton Hospital).
Yes, friends, that is the way of it here right now.
Can you forgive me if I am without interest in the wrongdoings or otherwise of the Windsors?
Stay safe: avoid punch-ups with policemen.
No comments:
Post a Comment