Books and films March 2023

 Books: The Axeman's Carnival, Birnham Wood and Mad Honey. Now reading Lessons in Chemistry. 

Axeman's Carnival is a damn good read. Set on a struggling South Island farm and narrated by a magpie (a birdie!) it is really about domestic abuse. The talking magpie's repeated phrases are hilarious though - and poignant too. ****

Birnham Wood is an even better read and much weightier covering a huge number of current themes: wokesters' versus billionaires, conservation, kiwi complacency, human ego and self deception ... It's both a literary work and a psychological thriller. Fantastic twist at end. And the title is fab. The well known quote from Macbeth in the title makes us wonder who represents the over ambitious Scottish king who did not get his comeuppence until Birnham Wood came to "high Dunsinane Hill." (Birnam Wood is the name of a gardening collective in the book.)

Mad Honey is pretty damn awful. I was warned. It is about a beekeeper mum whose son is accused of murdering his girlfriend. The mum who left her husband because of terrible domestic abuse worries that her son might have inherited her ex-husband's violent tendencies. To top it all off a main theme is transgenderism. So there is a moral issue thrown in for good measure. Well done and worthy but spoils the integrity of the novel as art. A chick lit book too I'm afraid which is what I feel about all Jodi Picault's books. Readable though. Had to read it to the end. Left out the honey bits because I'm sick of novelists using bees as an analogy to human behaviour. 

Films and TV

The Whale was much better than I expected. Brendan Fraser makes a really sympathetic obese English teacher. Even with all those rolls of fake fat his sad brown eyes and beautiful voice make him somehow attractive. Very tight script and setting. All in own room where he sits with dramatic entrances and exits - very like a stage play. Great suppporting actors. 

The Last of Us on Neon was the best thing I read or watched lately - well, maybe Birnham Wood was better. It's my first zombie apocalypse TV series and I disliked the zombies and disliked the loving talk about guns. It's just so well made and acted though that it stands head and shoulders above other series on the screen at the moment. The characters walk across America and the scenery and the cinematography are stunning. The post-apocalyptic city landscapes are as moody as they need to be.

The characters and relationships are so well drawn and true to life and well acted that I was willing to turn a blind eye to the brutality and bloodshed. After all, it was the end of the world. Loved the moral ambiguity. 

Back in 2023

 Wow, didn't know blogger was still working - noticed it on the Google list of tools like Photos, Docs etc.

I have two websites, one for my charity (not mine but I write on it) and my own WordPress site for HNC.

I'll use this blog for teviews and current affairs and stuff. 

This is me from my apartment balcony after lots of HNC treatment. We're having a spell of fine weather now in March after a ghastly summer of rain.

We battle on

Finally have my surgery date: 18 February - and a little more info about my condition. The CT scan seems to have shown an actual tumour, still small at T1, (1 cm or under) but there are some "shiny nodes" - small and round. From my research I know that small is good but round is bad - they should be oval. I'll have to wait till a week after the op to find out the results; will have to psych myself up for less than optimal because that is how this whole thing seems to be heading.

In spite of the nodes the surgeons think it's fixable. Maybe that's because I'm to have radiotherapy 6 - 8 weeks after surgery. A biggie. Apparently it's a painful process with the mouth.

It was all very rushed at the hospital because they had a backlog after Xmas and because my main surgeon seemed to want to gloss over it. He said my case was "easy" to fix compared with some others. He told me that the radiotherapy was to stop cancers growing on that side of my mouth. When asked he said he didn't think the cancer had spread to the nodes. Not 100% reassuring because he seems to be quite defensive about my cancer and determined to play it down. He didn't even tell me I had to have a marginal mandibulectomy, meaning a shaving off my lower jaw bone to get clear margins from the tumour that abuts it. A couple of teeth will come out because the flap for reconstruction will cover the gum. All this came from the registrar. Although the surgeon said "it'll be easier than last time" it's hard to believe that when my flap will come from my right wrist which will have to be splinted, meaning I won't even be able to write properly after surgery. Even if I don't have a tracheotomy I no doubt won't be able to talk for a while!

The tone of the visit suggested to me that they saw my case as small fry compared to the big op someone else was having. I saw a couple holding on to each other in an opposite room and I wonder if one of them is having huge surgery, making mine seem slight. I have the utmost sympathy for those people but my case seems big to me. It's reassuring that they see my case as routine though ... I have to be grateful for mercies like that.

I've been pretty good psychologically which just goes to show that knowledge is power. I was bad when I was left hanging for 5 weeks over Xmas. Now I seem to have my courage back, or my philosophical attitude. According to what I've looked up I'll be sort of out of action for three months from surgery: they say the optimal time frame for surgery plus rads is 100 days. That will take me to the end of May ....

I'm still doing my retiring ways. Have kept up my three walking groups on and off and even went to a meeting of the University of the Third Age on Monday. I was feeling a bit tender that morning and couldn't concentrate as well as I should have on the looooonnnggg talk but it was good, people were friendly and very bright and I'm beginning to really enjoy meeting people my age and often much older. The walking group on Friday was hilarious in some ways. All the walking sticks came out at the start, there were two casualties (not fatal but pretty bad) and everyone groaned and moaned when we had to climb over fences. The views were terrific, there were numerous bellbirds and it took my mind right off my own worries.

Here's a picture of the lonely long beach at Tawharanui.

Back to business

While I'm not totally heartless and feel sorry for people who have to go back to work this week, I enormously glad that the statutory holiday period is over. It's horrible getting sick on a Friday when nothing can be done till Monday but even worse to get diagnosed on Xmas Eve when there's an almost two week wait for info and action if your case isn't immediately life threatening. 

I lined up the business cards for the surgeon, his receptionist at his private clinic and the nurse specialist at ORL, Auckland City. By the third phone call I struck it lucky and got the information I needed; in fact the hospital was going to ring me or send me appointments in the near future. I'll see the Multi-Disciplinary Panel on 17 January as long as I can get the CT scan in by then. 

I also asked them to email me the pathology report. It was very technical but it sounds like an early cancer just on the turn from pre-cancer to malignancy. That means it won't have spread but also that it will have to come out. This leaves me with the horrible surgery but without the worry of a spread elsewhere. I feel more empowered now to get on with my life. 

And it's funny about that Xmas/New Year hiatus. Have always disliked them because I like routine and the full services that the modern world can offer on radio, television and shops as well as in medical centres. It's hard to accept that the people who run these services need a break:)

Not a Merry Christmas

It's quite surreal how bad my Christmas was. It makes you think about all the froth and bubble of Xmas and how insubstantial it is. Bad things can happen anytime; Xmas ain't immune. It's also almost funny. I feel like sending one of those Xmas letters but painting it very black: the opposite of boasting.

First of all I had the suspicious tissue plus biopsy on December 11. Then no results when they were meant to come through the following week, thus prolonging the agony. On 19 December I got a horrible gastric virus which lasted almost a week. No vomiting but nausea, fever, a general feeling of malaise and watery diarrhoea which I didn't handle well because I ended up dehydrated. When I finally went to the doctor he said it was hard to confine it to one member of the family so I cancelled Xmas and stayed home by myself for the week. My best friends were out of the country or inundated by grandchildren so I didn't even have anyone to talk to on the phone.

Son Peter had followed up my results with the surgeon when I was too nervous to. As a result the surgeon rang Peter when those results came out on Xmas Eve. Cancer, early, surgery. Peter came round and delivered the news though the closed ranchslider so that he didn't get the bug. It was a relief to know but horrible to be so very alone.

The "early" part sounds good and so does the fact that the surgery won't be quite so big as last time. And yet, it IS cancer and who knows what they might find when poking around or in the CT scan? I'm pretty confident it will be all right but I know I have to prepare for contingencies. That oral cancer surgery with the tracheotomy and naso-gastric tube, with the patch from elsewhere in the body and therefore prolonged stay in hospital, is anathema to me. Other people sleep through things like that but I'm a notoriously bad sleeper. With oral cancer surgery the improvement each day is slower than with other surgeries. Even the worst abdominal surgery patient feels a lot better after three days and can EAT. With this surgery you can't eat or drink until the trache is out and that can be over a week. There are no meal times to break up the monotony.

And then there's the rest of the family with at least one family member pretty depressed by the whole thing. In a year their father goes into care for dementia, their mother has her fourth cancer diagnosis. How long can her body withstand those horrible surgeries?

It's hard to get out of self-pity mode. Maybe soon!

Fitter, but ...

Have been going to walking groups for a couple of months now and golly gee I'm a lot fitter. The mileage plus the orthotics in my shoes mean that I can now walk for well over an hour with no pain. Walked for one hour 40 on Sunday at a pretty fast rate of knots and felt good afterwards - invigorated. I've been through this get-fit stage many times in my life and really appreciate it. Especially now - it's good to know that even the pensioner's body can improve.

I fell over a couple of times the Sunday before last though - once while going down a steep track on Mangere Mountain. Had that sickening feeling when you feel your ankle twisting. In that split second you feel (or I do): no more walking for a while. Oh dear. But no, it came right after a couple of days and after four days rest I was good to go.

What really made me tingle with fear was my oral cancer check-up this morning. I assumed that everything would be all right because I've had no scares for a couple of years now. This morning the doctor pronounced the inside of my left cheek (where I often get ulcers) to be "a bit manky" and warranting a biopsy. He did say he could hold off doing the biopsy because of Xmas etc but in the end decided to do it then and there. At his tone and hearing the words "manky" and biopsy" my head and heart were assaulted by a tingly adrenalin reaction. Very distinct, very palpable. Fortunately that was followed by a warmer feeling, a sort of strength reaction I've felt before. Maybe a defense mechanism ... a feeling that I have to cope, I will cope and there's no use worrying until the results come out.

He more or less said it could be a new primary. Not a spread etc. I know this happens with oral cancer. He said it might be precancerous. That is likewise possible with this type of carcinoma - you tend to get a lot of dysplasia. If it is cancer it has been caught early.

If I have a hunch it is that there IS something there but that it is not all that serious. Hmmm. When I get this calm feeling there usually IS a problem!!! Doctor said surgery would involve removal and a graft; no need to go right through the cheek. That's my real fear. I can sort of get by with my present scars and reconstructed tongue but I don't want a patched up face or any more of a speech impediment.

So I've got a week before I know the results. I'm going to really make it count. There's nothing like a cancer scare to remind us of the value of life and health. And fitness:)

Below is a photo of the little dome inside the crater of Mangere mountain. A sort of mini-me of the mountain as a whole.

Kitchens today

I've got a new kitchen in the modern sense – not a new room but new cupboards and benches. My 33 year old built-in kitchen with its smelly old particle board has just been removed and the new kit is in with the cheapest oven and cooktop I could buy. From a cramped narrow room I've

somehow acquired a bigger looking room with wider benches and deeper cupboards. Cool.

Stressful though. Builder kept disappearing for hours on end and I had over four days camping out in the lounge with a kettle, microwave and bucket.

Now I know what people mean when they say, “I’m getting a new kitchen”. These factory built kitchens are slotted in without glue or nails and can be replaced every decade or less.