under another sun

Up early and working on some words for Helen for the opera. Then I donned my walking gear and walked down to Brighton Station to meet Anton. It was a cool but sunny day, perfect for walking.  Lots of police about at Brighton Station, as some idiot had tried to set off a improvised bomb on a train at Parsons Green in west London. Anton saying he felt in better shape than ever, and bounded off like a young gazelle at Balcombe.  We did a circular route, through the lovely lanes then across country fields and through a few farms to the Ardingly reservoir.  Anton shared his lunch with me there, as I mysteriously hadn't brought any food. We walked around it and then back up into Balcombe. A lovely walk, and a perfect day for walking, although we had to skirt the edge of a field full of noisy cattle. Anton let me go ahead as a decoy, then sprinted past me with some alacrity to safety. Ardingly reservoir quite full, and with signs about poisonous blue green algae in the water...

A bit of a medical theme, today. I had to get up early and walk off to have a blood test first thing. The nurse achieved a hole in one in my vein, which is a refreshing change. I walked home, and eventually was able to speak to Mum at the Royal Free. She was sounding pretty good, and the procedure yesterday didn’t leave her too uncomfortable. I also spoke to Mas, who was complaining about the number of people who had called around to check on him. Then after walking home, Lorraine and I went to have our feet done at a podiatrist called Sole Sisters. I’d never been to a podiatrist before. But having my feet sorted out (I have slightly ingrowing toenails) was great. The Kenny feet felt far more balletic right away. I am not particularly fond of my feet, but Lucy the podiatrist led me to believe that she had seen far grizzlier sights. Afterwards Lucy did Lorraine, while I drank a coffee in the café next door. In the afternoon, we dropped some baby clothes to Sam's old pal John Ma...

A long day Up at a wretched 5:30 to catch a very early train. The sun rising over the countryside in a beautiful purple sky. Up to Paddington Station where I met Lucy and Pat to travel to West Drayton, an unlovely area slightly to the northwest of London. Thence to a major pharmaceutical corporation by a bus containing a fantastically loud screaming child, to meet the French Bloke who had arrived by motorbike to present concepts in a slightly tiresome meeting for two and a half hours, but the client was 'in a happy place'. Then back into London, Pat pausing to buy a bag of chips and a nasty looking sausage from a chippy. After the afternoon was done in the agency I went to the Royal Free where mum is now on a routine which Lorraine told me later is called in the trade drip and drain, a standard treatment for adhesions. Uncomfortably it involves having a tube inserted through your nose down the back of your throat, which Mum was finding very uncomfortable. Otherwise she was fair...

Leaks The morning in the agency, and in the afternoon up to The Royal Free hospital to visit mum. She has adhesions, where an gut that has been operated on attaches itself to a neighbour, and may need a corrective op. She is, however in good spirits, and looking pretty well. While in the hospital there a chemical leak in the hospital causing it to be surrounded by fire engines and ambulances. Mason had just entered the hospital rather keen for a pee, was ejected before completing his mission. Outside he asked a paramedic if he could go in his ambulance, before being pointed to a nearby pub. I was pleased to see Mum in good spirits, and after a couple of hours left her with Mase to return to the agency. Left work at 8, having made half an hour for a much appreciated glass of beer with the French Bloke, and collected lots of stuff for the big presentation tomorrow. Home then, and went late to the pub where I met Fingers Capra, Richard Gibson, and Matt and Wayne and others for a late c...

Mum in hospital More yawning on the train this morning, due in part to episodes of night catfighting. Calliope like some weasel baby who wakes me from the deepest sleep when she screams. Listening to Never let me go on the way to St Pancras. A fascinating, claustrophobic novel. Working with the Basque again today. A respite of lunch with Pat. More work, and them some minutes of French work I decided to do in the agency before leaving. Phoned by Mason just as I stepped into the street who told me mum had been taken to the Royal Free Hospital, after vomiting violently through the night and not being able to keep water down today. Worried by this, but nothing I can do until I hear more tomorrow. Mason doing his best to be reassuring, and it is likely to be a bug or possibly food poisoning, although Mase ate the same things as Mum did. Home and phoned Janet who, due to working in London, I am going to have to cancel seeing this week. Yet another person I have let down in the last few week...

What the doctor ordered Mum's appetite has returned but for odd things. She breakfasted on yeuchy frogspawny tapioca accompanied by a steaming mug of Marmite. Mum and I then pushed off to the Royal Free Hospital. First to the blood test department, and then to visit oncology to pick up a special yellow slip with "urgent" stamped on it and then back for the actual blood test. Before returning to Oncology. I must say the staff were very friendly, and the patients seemed mostly cheery and upbeat too. There was even a young volunteer there who was handing out cups of tea as you waited. Mum's doctor was pleasant, as was the chief colorectal nurse, which as job titles go leaves something to be desired. The doctor recommended another week off chemo before starting again, to get mum stabilised more. We all thought this was the right decision. Then Mum was sent up to Vascular Studies where a tetchy woman scanned Mum's ankle and confirmed that the slight swelling there wasn...