A date with Papworth

 Two days ago, I had another phone call from the consultant dermatologist. He's phoned personally so often now I feel he has become one of my friends - certainly no one else has phoned so frequently to ask how I am and give me updates on the treatment plan. I should have had a meeting with him next Monday, but he updated me about "the plan" and cancelled his meeting. Apparently Papworth will send me an appointment for Monday afternoon instead with a view to surgery (removal of part of the lung) and possible follow-up immunotherapy. Today the letter of confirmation arrived; I am to attend the Thoracic Surgeons Oncology Clinic next week to discuss it all. I am advised to take a relative (i.e. Ann) to help me understand what is discussed and to explain it to me. I am clearly being rated with the old and senile. It is strange but, despite my age and illness, I don't feel specifically infirm, and inside I still feel as young as I did 20 years ago; it is odd how the body image we hold of ourselves can so distort reality. But I will be glad to go and hear what they intend to do with me. As it's a thoracic surgery unit, I am guessing they will want to remove the diseased part of my lung. Good riddance, I say. Hopefully my irritating cough and the terrible itch I have will go with it.

The last of the antiques

Finally, the man called for the barometer. He had been intending to come for a few weeks, but never arrived. That is the last item of old furniture and projects from our time selling antiques in Clare. We enjoyed running the stall at the time, going to auctions and car boot sales, coming home with boxes of weird things to identify, pricing them up and occasionally discovering we'd bought an unsuspected bargain, but equally finding old duds that wouldn't sell at all. We never made much money, but the journey was fun and we learnt a lot, as well as meeting many interesting (and some less enjoyable) people.

We have had a bout of good weather, warm and sunny. I drove out this morning to fill up the car ready for the weekend and the hospital visit on Monday, but I was too late - the first garage had run out of diesel, and the second in Haverhill had queues half a mile long, so I will leave it till things quieten down a bit. The trouble is, this government has panicked people by saying there is a shortfall at the garages because of the shortage of transport drivers, so naturally everyone immediately wants to fill their cars driving the shortage even worse. It is a positive feedback loop of the worst kind. the papers have been publicising the shortfall of haulage drivers for months now, but this useless government has failed to heed the warning or bring in foreign drivers under emergency powers. Many supermarket shelves are empty, and with perceived fuel shortages and power cuts because of gas prices, they are building a perfect storm of discontent over the winter months. There will be riots in the streets at this rate, and added to the weak police response to nut-heads blocking the M25 and Dover port, the government are heading for major losses at the next election. It is unbelievable that Starmer is unable to land a blow even on a PM who must be reeling on the ropes.

Making the most of the sun, I managed to repaint the trim round the roof of our Dragoon Saloon, a job which has been hanging over me for a few weeks now. The old paint had peeled badly and was exposing bare wood, but now it should be good for winter.