Stir-up Sunday

Feeling better than I have for months as effects of chemo wear off. This is a window between chemo and radiotherapy, but it is so great to feel normal even if it is only for a very short time. Still no ear, nose and throat appointment. I don’t think the consultant has been in touch with BUPA (my insurer) at all but is still relying on the NHS which could take weeks and, therefore, delay my transplant further.

I shall be going to see the Bone Marrow Consultant at the Transplant Clinic on Tuesday after all the tests on my heart, lungs and kidneys so I shall tackle her then but there have now been weeks of unnecessary delay. The irony is that BUPA say just a phone call from her is all they need; she can do the follow-up letter later.

Otherwise I am trying to use my time profitably, not just preparing for Christmas although I am marzipanning the cake and making mince pies today, but also trying to label everything so it will be easy for my husband and daughter to find where everything is when I ask for various clothes to be brought into hospital. Ray has just planted some daffodil bulbs today and they should be up when I come out of hospital – if I ever get in!

After Tuesday I hope we shall have some idea when the radiotherapy will begin and how long it will be for. Then Raymond can plan if he is going to France to check on the boat and I can sort out my diary more effectively. However, I don’t know whether the consultant will have got round to sorting this out by then which is worrying.

It was wonderful walking in the woods this morning; it was so still. It’s strange, my parents were quite urban people but from the very start I have always loved the countryside and fortunately, although Ray was brought up in the town initially, he loves fishing and country pursuits. Perhaps my donor father, whoever he was, loved the country.

Traditionally tomorrow, Sunday, was Stir-up Sunday. The name comes from the opening words of the Anglican collect for the day which began with “Stir up…” but for centuries it became the day in England when people made their Christmas puddings and every member of the family gave the puddings a stir and made a wish. The next year for Ray and me is likely to be very difficult. Ray’s case progresses only very slowly and the other side will refuse interim payments wherever possible to try to force us to accept a low settlement. For me the battle is for my life and the result may be inconclusive but we both wish that we are given the strength to cope with what lies ahead and that a year from now we will be looking at a happier future together. That will be our wish for Stir-up Sunday.