Another message from our medical correspondent

It’s a fact. I can confirm that Doctors lie. I saw the consultant the other day who sent me for a Fine Needle Aspiration and an ultrasound. He told me that it was no more painful than having a blood test, but in my throat rather than my arm. The consultant who did the FNA also confirmed this and so, I was ready to believe them. They fibbed. It hurt! The needle going in was fine, it’s when they took it out. It felt like I had been viciously attacked by Chuck Norris with a karate chop to the throat.

Obviously this procedure angered Hector the lump. He's still a little sore and afterwards it was painful to swallow. Harumph. Note to self, the pain scale that doctors use is way different to that of the general populace.

Unfortunately, the ultrasound has confirmed that Hector is not a simple cyst but that it is a hard sizeable nodule. The next step is to get the cytology results back so we know what kind of cells it is made of. This leaves me with two options:

Rock: The Hector nodule is made of normal follicular cells and I go in for surgery in January to have it removed along with half my thyroid.

Hard Place: The Hector nodule is made from ‘suspicious cells’ and I go in for surgery and potentially have the whole thyroid removed, possibly followed by radio-isotope therapy and then go onto hormone therapy for the rest of my life.

This news left me a bit subdued. I was hoping for the most likely and the simplest to cure option of a cyst. Neither option thrills me. I hate hospitals and the prospect of staying in one with ill people and where I must sleep in the same room as strangers fills me with quiet dread.

I find out the cytology results next week. Until then I find it hard to get my head around Hector being anything else but benign. That kind of thing only happens to other people, right?

Super PM

Our Prime Minister has been keeping a well kept secret...up to now, when he dramatically revealed his secret identity as Super PM! I wonder if he wears his underwear over his trousers? What a horrible thought!

Bagpuss & Co. Say Goodbye

Bagpuss and Oliver Postgate editing

As I was driving home from work today, I was listening to the radio when I was saddened by *this story*.

As a small child I grew up with Oliver Postgate's creations. He and his friend, Peter Firmin co-created loveable and strange charaters in familiar and yet strange worlds where they would act out heartwarming tales for (or so it seemed as I watched entranced in front of the television) my pleasure. Characters like Bagpuss, The Clangers, Ivor the Engine and Noggin the Nog among others. Even as adults these characters have stayed with the generation(s) that grew up with them; who have held these characters close to their hearts as childhood friends. I know several friends who have their own 'Bagpuss', a character that always especially appealed to me, having developed a love of cats (and indeed all animals) at an early age through my dear long departed grandmother.

A few years ago I read Oliver's autobiography. It was a touching, humourous, interesting and sometimes sad read but most of all it conveyed the life of someone who loved his family and making programs for children and enjoyed what he did. His characters are his legacy.

I have posted a video of The Clangers below for (hopefully) your enjoyment. The fact that I grew up loving these characters perhaps explains much about me :)

A message from our medical correspondent...

Last week was a bit of a medical related week for me. I started the week off with a bit of a sore throat which rapidly descended and set up home in my lungs. Breathing shouldn't be something you have to work at so I knew it wasn't a good sign. Anyway, having suffered with a really bad chest infection that lingered for weeks a few months ago I was eager to nip this one in the bud and send the bug squatters packing before they could claim rights. So, off to the doctor I trot who prescribes me the chemical equivalent of a fly swat in the form of antibiotics and steriods for my asthma and gives strict instructions to stay warm and rest. Happily this all seems to be doing the trick.

At the end of the week I had my ultrasound appointment to check out my thyroid lump, Hector. As usual when I get to the hospital it is like a rabbit warren and the sign posting is apalling. I spend several minutes wandering around and trying to follow complex directions from various people which I had no chance of remembering, but through a serious of asking and following and asking again I managed to home in on the ultrasound department just in time.

I need not have worried however as the appointment clearly included a 'long wait' in their lavishly appointed waiting area (plastic chairs and copies of magazines which are months out of date) where I languished for 50 mins. This explained the extortionate amount of £2.00 for 'upto 3 hours' I was charged in the car park. They obviously realised a short stay wasn't on the cards. The ultrasound was over quickly however, and now I just have to wait until next Wednesday to see the consultant. Fingers crossed.

Escapism

As a child my nose was always in a book. Even before I could read properly I would look at the pictures and tell the stories from memory. I got my love of books from my parents who would read to me at bedtime. Books became some of my most treasured possessions and I have always had great difficulty parting with any to make room for more. They represent knowledge, ideas and possibilities. They are full of experiences that otherwise would never be open to me, they offer the thrill of danger from the safety of my sofa and I get to travel on a journey with people whom I get to know as the story unfolds.

When I was studying for my MBA I had trouble finding time to read for pleasure. My spare time was taken up with essays, projects and reading text books and journals as well as finding time for everyday matters. I studied for 5 years and in that time I probably only got through a few books. I am now getting back into reading for pleasure. For me this is very different to the type of reading I do for studying or work where I scan read for pertinent information. When I read a book for pleasure I like to digest every word, to catch every nuance and build a picture in my mind of the land I am visiting and the people I meet there.

It seemed apt then, when I came across this meme at the lovely Diane's at Forks of the Moment (a blog well worth visiting). Taking part is simple:

Display the badge on your blog and pass it on to five other bloggers. Tell them to open the nearest book to page 46. Write out the fifth sentence on that page, and also the next two to five sentences. The closest book, not the coolest, or the one you think will sound the best. THE CLOSEST!!!

The book next to my bed is currently 'The Winter King' by Bernard Cornwell. It is the first book in the Warlord Chronicles Trilogy and according to the cover it 'sheds new light on the Arthurian legend, combining myth with historical accuracy and the brutal action of the battlefield'. Cool. So here is what is on page 46:

'I have been instructed ,' she told Morgan, and when Morgan shrilly demanded by whom, Nimue just smiled. Morgan was double Nimue's size and twice her age, but when Merlin had taken Nimue to his bed the power in Ynys Wydryn passed to her and in the face of that authority the older woman was helpless. She still objected to my going.

If you want to know more then you'll just have to read the book, but it is a compelling read with a great feel to it. Isn't escapism great?

I am not going to tag anyone but if you would like to do this meme then feel free and I will come and take a look. Don't forget to display the lovely button!