Friday, February 26, 2010
The singing coconut
Today is going to be a funny one. A few weeks ago we signed up for something called the Biobank research project. Apparently it's some big national project into how healthy we are and perhaps why we are not. It's looking at thousands of people and you have to go for a two hour session. My friend Elisabeth, her of the recorder advice, went last week and they had her on the torture bike and everything. I am in a quandary about whether I should claim disability and escape such horrors or bite the bullet as I will have to go through it all with Dr Rolle in Dresden again in a few months time if the chemo and the recorder do their stuff and I am back to my fighting fit status. Being all modern they have sent me a reminder by email and by text, if I twittered I am sure they would have done so too; it's nice to feel wanted.
Actually over the last few days, I have felt better than I have felt for ages, I don't look better as my hair is definitely on the way out. I am so glad I went for the coconut look last week at the hairdressers as it is now more successful than ever and I will soon be the less than proud owner of the full blown version . But as I plan next weeks chemo stay - it's on Monday to Wednesday as long as they have a bed - I can run up stairs repeatedly, as I do repeatedly as I keep forgetting things, without collapsing into a heap. Last night I bellowed out at least two whole rounds of Nymphs and Shepherds, try it if you need to improve lung function, in front of, and indeed with, friends Chris and Denise from over the road. My only worry is that this will be their abiding memory of me: a tuneless but enthusiastic coconut warbling " in this grove, in this grove lets sport and play, lets sport and play" etc etc.
I suppose it could be worse.