Very nearly there

Within touching distance of the end of radiotherapy and thought that I would structure today's entry slightly differently. The first evidence of this is the musical links will appear at what seem suitable junctures.

The first are a pair of links whose publication dates seem upside down to me, but then if you have listened to some of the other tracks I have pointed you towards you are probably aware that my musical taste and knowledge are slightly dubious.

The earlier song: One more time.......

The later song: One more shot

One of those might put you in the mood to read on, but I very much doubt that both will!

I have now travelled some 900 miles back and forth to KOC and been zapped by intensive x-ray beams 36 times. For the first time, I stopped at the display cabinet in the corner of the waiting room which displays selected anatomical specimens from a deceased radiotherapy machine (you wondered where that was going didn't you?). Absolutely fascinating, but it basically demonstrated that the machines are no more than lumps of glass and metal, albeit put together in new and more interesting ways than one might expect. There is a term for this, which was coined by a close friend and colleague: "Morecambisation" (for an explanation, here is a link: Grieg Piano concerto )

As the treatment has progressed over the weeks, the side effect that has had the biggest effect has been fatigue. In the first few weeks, this was just a slight decrease in energy. It progressed to being unable to concentrate for very long without my mind going into a slight "freewheel", which effectively stopped me working. Its ultimate incarnation has been to deliver and insatiable desire to sleep

As if this was not enough, I am also supposed to steer clear of caffeine and strong alcoholic drinks. Those who know me will realise that this is the equivalent of telling a fish to steer clear of water. Needless to say, I took this as "advice" rather than an imperative and moderated input rather than ceased.

You might expect that, feeling tired and desirous of sleep, falling into the arms of Morpheus would not be much of a problem. Indeed, it wasn't until very recently. To explain this, I will have to bore you with a short history lesson.

Some 8 or 9 years ago, I moved from London to the delights of the Kent countryside. London can best be characterised as 24 hours of noise, light, movement and entertainment. For a long time, the last quality outweighed the first 3, but there came a time when the downsides overtook the upsides. Critically, it is impossible to live in London and own a dog if you have any love for the species. It is also a bit of a challenge to own a horse. So , despite Dr Johnson (if you don't know the quote, here is a link: Samuel Johnson ), off to Kent.............

The house is entirely unremarkable, but where it sits is the important bit. No human neighbours!!!! It is at the bottom of a nature reserve which is also a "Site of Special Scientific Interest" in an area which is a designated "Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty". I might take slight issue with the last one, but that is what the Government calls it so you probably get the idea. We do have noisy neighbours though: foxes, badgers, owls and the like. Believe it or not, in the absence of other sounds, owls can seem quite loud!

Either side of the house is an empty plot of land. One is owned by a true Romany gypsy and his family who use it to store things and I will often refer to as the best neighbours I have ever had. 

The other is owned by a woman who lives about 20 miles away; she refers to it as her little bit of unspoilt Kent. At least, it was until recently............ On the land is a small wooden building which is a cross between a summerhouse and a shed. It is evidently pretty old and had fallen into disrepair. The owner recently seems to have employed a couple to renovate it and bring it back up to a usable state. All well and good until recently; no problem putting up with some honest hammering and sawing noises, even if it does seem to be taking longer to renovate than it would take most people to build from scratch. Then the children arrived!

Warm days and hot nights; the sort of weather than demands the opening of windows and invites falling asleep sitting in the garden during the day to work off radiotherapy fatigue. Not with what sounds like 20 small children running up and down screaming their heads off (it is probably only about 5, but you get the idea!). Worse still, they are staying in a tent and do not seem to sleep. Guess who else cannot sleep as a result? It is a strange feeling to be so tired as to not function, but unable to sleep due to one of the very sounds I moved to the country to escape. I am not a fan of other people's children at the best of times................

I now understand why the British army used sleep deprivation as one of their torture techniques in Northern Ireland in the 1970s. It is very effective at taking people to the edge. 

Sorry, a whole load of self-indulgent twaddle today. Just to round it off, a couple of songs which sum up the feeling of sleep deprivation. Or (never start a sentence with a conjunction!) maybe just the result of too many drugs.............either way, both are best listened to through headphones with the volume turned up:

It begins with a blessing

Song from the bottom of a well

A quick postscript: such is the fatigue, it has taken me all day to write this. Sorry if the joins show...............