Good news

Grandad John Celebrates

Yesterday, after a week of fearful anticipation, I went in for my first follow-up cystoscopy. I had barely given my name to the receptionist when I was called in by the two young GU nurses and told to drop my pants and lie on the couch. They inserted the anaesthetic cream then – without giving it time to take effect – pushed up the fibre-optic cystoscope, inviting me to look at the screen and see for myself whatever they found up there. The pain is intense, though, like the largest needle inserted inside and poked about, so most of the time I had my eyes screwed shut and my fists tensed up. The news, however, was good - no sign of recurrence, and minimal residual inflammation after the radiotherapy! So I am a free man for another three months. This illness has divided our friends and relatives into two camps, those who came through and gave support and practical aid, especially to Ann when she needed it most, and those who didn't.

Selfie in the Bell as we celebrate

We went on to look at camper vans as a possible way of enjoying Britain on the cheap, then for a celebratory meal in the Bell that evening. At the next table was a family, two boys, their mum and the step dad. Only the man was talking through the whole meal, and I had my back to them, so didn't know the boys or the mother were there until Ann told me, once they'd left. The Bell has been nicely updated, with a reasonable though pricey menu. The food was tasty, but very rich and filling, leaving me bloated, with bouts of diarrhoea through the night. The penalties of rich living when too old to enjoy it; moral: enjoy it while you may.

Today, we went to see the newly released "Keeper", the story of an ex German POW, Bert Trautmann, who went on to be the first foreign player signed for Manchester City. It showed the depth of prejudice against the Germans after the war, which I well remember from my mother who hated the race. She was Lancastrian, where the film was set, but had spent four years as a nurse in Leicester Infirmary during the intense bombing of that city and Coventry, and knew at first hand the horrors brought by that war. The film brought out the usual negative reviews of the critics for an upbeat, romantic film, but we love what they call "cheesy" films, and enjoyed it, and the countryside and accents of post-war Lancashire brought back memories of the visits we made to my grandparents at that time.