The problem with cancer is that it turns every ache of age into a threat of worse. Diarrhoea? It must have spread to the bowel! Those mild abdominal pains? It must be invading the liver. Achy joints? No longer a bit of arthritis, but infiltartion of the bones. Mild forgetfulness? It must be brain secondaries.
We all get aches and pains and mild functional change, but cancer magnifies and intensifies them as we wait to see if it is striking somewhere else. I cannot claim it is dread or fear, but an angry annoyance that it might still be there waiting to strike again. On the up side, every day counts as precious as it's driven home just how limited our little lives are.
In Bury today to do a bit of shopping and see a film, "Stan and Ollie", a moving tribute to the last days of the wild duo. It's extremely well-acted, in total convincing character, and I recommend anyone who enjoyed their films to see it. Most of the light audience were young: we were the eldest people there. I do wonder what a young audience might think, though. It is such old-fashioned humour, and was already dated and pre-war when they did their final tours of Britain. Nevertheless, their routines formed the backbone of much post-war humour, and it is worth seeing for a sense of the history of comedy.
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