We finally made it back from Portugal on Saturday morning, although it was a close call. I got some distinctly old-fashioned looks from the BA stewardess as I stumbled onto the plane with my complexion as white as a ghost. She probably assumed I was paying the price for a big boozy mash-up last night of my holiday. If only that was the case; I still felt really rotten.
I want to say a big thank you to everyone who sent messages after reading last week’s missive wishing me a speedy recovery from my latest bout of tummy troubles. And I’ll also acknowledge all of those who questioned my judgement in having chicken piri piri for lunch whist in Portugal with my current and ongoing issues. I know you meant well.
However, in my defence….
If you’ve ever had the pleasure of visiting that beautiful country you will know that chicken piri piri isn’t that hot a dish at all. It can best be described as mildly spicy at best. On previous days I’d eaten mixed seafood spaghetti with bits of garlic floating in the sauce, a very rich lasagna, and drank more beers than usual. Did they upset me? Or none of the above?
But I had been feeling so well, and doing what subconsciously or otherwise I have been doing for the last seven and a half years. You see, when I was first diagnosed with Stage IV cancer back in 2015 I suppose I could have shaved my head and gone to live in a hilltop zen retreat, meditated for twelve hours a day and survived on a diet of milk, mung beans and quinoa. Perhaps by sacrificing all the things I enjoy and love I might have extended my life expectancy by 2-3 months.
I didn’t do that though. As and when I’ve been physically able, I have, with the Blonde’s general encouragement, had many great nights out, enjoyed probably too many beers and too much wine, eaten in smart restaurants, had some delicious take-aways, bought a fast car that I drive like a hooligan, followed the Hammers home and away, beat myself up on the golf course, travelled a fair bit, including a trip to Vegas to see Rod, pushed myself in the pool and gym and tried my best to have a good few laughs.
And, as long as I can get over the operation on my colon that is now confirmed for 28th February, and good old JJ keeps on delivering to hold the Bastard Cancer at bay, that’s exactly what I intend to keep on doing.