Tag Archives: prostate

23 April 2008

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The theme continues. This is the all-conquering, or “quite good”, Surrey Chapel squad of which my son and brother were both members. Son David is in the front row, second from the right, and brother Phil is far right on the back row with the, ahem, beard. Again the time must have been around 1990. The team – indeed the entire church league – had its roots in a radical twice-yearly game I helped organise in the early 60s with my friend David Green. We played Park Church, whose team contained my uncle and two cousins. After I moved to London in 1966, the Easter Monday and Boxing Day games developed into a proper league with teams containing almost no relations at all, but all this came too late for me, and I never played as much football as I would have liked. And in case you were wondering how radical it was, this all stemmed from a time and place where sport was regarded as a not sufficiently spiritual activity. David Green is now a deacon, so it must have been all right.

Back to my medical condition: I’m still feeling rather divorced from reality and generally fuzzy, as if my head hasn’t been tuned in properly. I slept quite well last night, and the pain in my head has gone, but I still have a clogged-up feeling and a bit of a cough, as well as dryness in the mouth. Just not really connecting, somehow. A generally achy feeling.

I’m not looking for sympathy. Well, maybe a little. My grandson sent me a lovely card and Dot is being very solicitous and lovely. I’ve just walked up to the post office to post some letters and got the feeling people were looking at me rather nervously, as if I was ill or something. I realised it was the first time I’d been out of the house for a week.

22 April 2008

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Still on the football theme, this is a five-a-side team made up of members of the Eastern Counties Newspapers trainee course in spring 1991. This would probably have been taken in May or June. I am on the left, of course, and continuing left to right we have Tim Miller, Darren Kemp, Robert Liddle, Mike Randall and Siobhan Hand. In the background at the right is my son David, then about 19, who played as a guest (against the regular reporters, I think). No idea what the score was, but I think we did reasonably well. In case anyone is wondering, I was teaching on the course: local and central government and techniques of journalism. David Paull ran the course and was law lecturer: Frances Burrows taught shorthand. We’re all now retired, of course. Except the trainees. And David.

Since my last entry here I have been feeling pretty awful, with a bad upper respiratory tract infection apparently stemming from the biopsy. I suspect this is the sort of thing doctors are not interested in because it isn’t life-threatening, but It makes you feel so wretched that having prostate cancer seems like a minor issue (at the time). A combination of high temperature, inflammation in your breathing tubes and coughing means you can’t get comfortable enough to sleep or even relax. It really is a nightmare, and what makes it worse is that you think it’s getting a bit better and then it gets worse again.

So I don’t know whether I’m actually over the worst or if I’m just well enough for now to write this. I feel very, very tired, but the pain in my head has eased off. I was given Ciprofloxacin (an antibiotic) in case I got an infection, but to say I was unimpressed by it is a major understatement. I only started to feel a bit better when I stopped taking it. Of course if I hadn’t taken it I might have died, but these things are relative.

We have cancelled our break in York, which was due to start tomorrow. I don’t think we’ll be charged for the hotel, and the theatre is very kindly refunding the tickets (though they have no need to), so when it is all sorted out, I think it will just cost us the £10 rail tickets cancellation fee. Very disappointing, though, especially as the weather is no nice at the moment. Makes you want to go out – and Dot has just walked to the shops – but I daren’t go far in case of the other side-effect of this whole mess: having to rush to the loo.

Seems ridiculous to have gone through all this when I was fine to start with. Now they want Dot to take cholesterol pills because she has a high count on a recent test. Both she and I are against it: she’s already taking blood pressure pills for no good reason (and is told she can’t come off them), so why add more pointless medication when she feels fine? If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. I wish I’d said that.

17 April 2008

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Another picture from our visit to Wroxham Barns: after feeding the animals, Oliver felt it was time to feed himself. Today would have been his great-grandfather’s – my father’s – 95th birthday, if he hadn’t died tragically early, 53 years ago. I am taking it easy, after my prostate biopsy under general anaesthetic yesterday. No problems in the immediate area of the biopsy, but I have a cough and a slight temperature. I’m on antibiotics, of course, so I hope they’ll sort it out soon. I had a bad night, getting less than four hours’ sleep, but not because of any pain or even discomfort. Nor was I worrying about anything. I just couldn’t sleep, which is very annoying. I did also have an episode of acid reflux, which I haven’t had for months. The nurse who rang this morning to check on me said it was probably the anaesthetic.

Yesterday at the Norfolk and Norwich University Hospital went very well, and I felt fine the whole time. We had just got a late Christmas present from the Cares – some vintage port and a book called The Naked Jape, which is about what makes people laugh and contains a large number of jokes. The timing of this was perfect, because I took it to the hospital and spent much of the waiting-around time reading it, with frequent laughter, which had to be good for me. Dot was with me as well, of course, but although she is also funny, she didn’t make me laugh quite as much. Smile, yes.

The staff were brilliant, from the time we arrived at 12.30pm to our rather late departure at around 7pm – late because [stop reading now if you have a sensitive disposition] I had to produce a relatively blood-free batch of urine, which took several attempts. The two nurses who looked after me – Michelle and Liz – were not only thorough but also friendly and easy to talk to. They clearly deal with people in a similar condition all the time, but they showed real concern. The surgeon and two anaesthetists were also friendly and sympathetic as well as being meticulous in telling you what was going to happen and what might happen. I also lost count of the times different people checked I was the right person having the right procedure, and that the signature on the consent form was mine.

I don’t remember anything after the needle was put in my hand until I came to in the ward. Dot had popped out for something to eat – apparently I asked her what she’d had several times – and arrived back just as I came round. There was no pain or even discomfort, and no obvious reaction to the anaesthetic. I felt as if I could have driven home, though clearly I couldn’t.

On the Tuesday evening our usual group came round, and they ended the evening by praying for me, which was encouraging. I know various other people were praying too. David rang to check I was OK. In the evening yesterday (what was left of it after egg and chips), Dot and I watched a two-parter of Waking the Dead, which was not only appropriate but also very good – probably the best story I’ve seen on the series. Even Trevor Eve’s extreme emotions seemed almost credible, and the acting generally was superb.

22 February 2008

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This is Dawn Jones, my cousin Ann’s daughter, and her family. We’ve recently been in contact over family history, and she has access to my tree on Genes Reunited.

We’ve been to see a couple of plays in the last two days. On Wednesday, Dot and I went to the Theatre Royal to see The Deep Blue Sea. Incompetently, I had booked the wrong performance online, but we went up anyway, and there was no trouble at all in not only changing our tickets from 2.30 to 7.30, but getting exactly the same seats. This was because the theatre was two-thirds empty, which was quite surprising.

It was one of those odd productions where everything seemed to be fine – acting, script, direction – but the whole thing never quite gelled. I think it was because the two lead characters who were supposed to be passionate about each other didn’t convince the audience of their passion. Still, it was quite enjoyable.

Last night we went to the Maddermarket with Audrey, a friend who is staying with us. We saw Funny Money – a farce – which was very well done by the amateur cast, including two people I know quite well from the EDP – David Newham and Trevor Burton. I also noticed Trevor’s father, the Rev Jack, in the audience. The script was hilarious and must have been difficult to carry off, with numerous confusing name changes. Of course the Maddermarket is a very attractive theatre, and we were in the front of the gallery, which gives a close view of the stage. So lots of fun.

Yesterday I also had an appointment with Mr Sethia about my ongoing prostate problem. He wanted to carry out another biopsy under general anaesthetic, because my PSA level had increased. But I persuaded him to let me have another blood test first, which is happening on Friday. If the PSA hasn’t fallen, I will be having the mammoth biopsy as a day procedure. In fact I have been feeling very well recently (possibly because I’ve lost a stone) and the night-time symptoms are much less. I quite often sleep through the night, which is unusual in men my age, even without the prostate problem.

Probably too much information. Sorry. The weather has changed: cold and bright has become milder and damp, which I don’t like so much. We are about to go to Dunston Hall with Audrey for lunch.