I was busy getting ready for the Strictly Come Dancing trip when this disease demonstrated capably why it is called the "Big C".
It is a gastric cancer that I have at the junction of the stomach at the oesophagus and the stomach. Problems at the upper end with food are common place, but not worth describing in detail everyday because it would make the blog unreadable.
Today, the disease mounted a double pronged attack on me a quarter of an hour before I was due to leave and that was that. I spent the next two hours recovering through sleep and I missed both the opportunity to greet Brucie with a "Good game, good game" and also the opportunity to tell Gavin Henson to stop being a "big Jessie" and concentrate on working to getting the Wales rugby jersey on again.
My thanks to Mr and Mrs Paul the Banker for the opportunity and I am just sorry that I wasn't able to take it.
Living with this disease is a day by day existence where you are constantly striving to keep your balance on a tightrope. You never know when an injudicious hand will reach out and shake you off and you don't know what the damage will be each time you fall.
No comments:
Post a Comment