still room to improve

Way back in the past, I could run round the nearby lake, in just over an hour. Later, I couldn't run that distance. Now I can cover the distance -- the shortest possible lap, cutting all corners -- in 65 minutes. How do I know?

On the night of the rogaine there is a competitive run round "our" lake. One lap every hour until you can run no more. Last one moving, wins.

Coming home from the rogaine, we drive past the event. There are still eight runners -- 28 hours after the start. 28 laps completed. Roughly 190km -- so far.

I would love to enter the event -- it's a brilliant idea. If I could just complete one lap I would be satisfied. I wonder if I could manage one lap within the hour...

So this morning I run round the lake. Just under 7km in one hour five. Perhaps I could *walk* a second lap? Not run... But 1 hour 5 is still too slow for the first competition lap :-(

Sooo... Still room to improve my running :-)

Dr Nick Lethbridge / Consulting Dexitroboper

...        Agamedes Consulting / Problems ? Solved

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... for the greater good ... against the corrupt metastasis of oligarchic power that stomps on humanity's neck everywhere" ... Sacranist creed, Thin Air

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Dying for you to read my blog, at https: // notdotdeaddotyet .blogspot. com. au/ :-)

rogaining: the lame and the halt

Saturday is a six-hour rogaine. Deb & I and Deb's sister are a team, in the XU "mixed ultravet" category. We are guaranteed at least second place, with only one other XU team entered.

Deb has a sprained ankle. Not to worry, she says, I ran 5.7km on Thursday and it hardly hurt. Yeah... that was on level roads and grass.

Unfortunately the rogaine is at John Forrest National Park: with gravel tracks, hills -- both up and down -- and some thick bush.

Even more unfortunately, we eventually walk 8.8km.

Deb's sister always apologises for being the weak link in our team. She has a heart valve and claims to be unfit. She usually rushes along -- tick tick tick tick tick, both legs and heart valve moving fast. Today I do notice that she walks at a more sensible -- slightly slower -- speed.

But it's Deb who falls first. Literally falls.

We are on a gravel track and Deb slips. Then slips again, falls. We slow down.

Then there's The Valley. On the drive in we had seen this valley. There were comments such as, that looks awful. Now, we head on down. In hindsight we should have followed the road. A longer walk round the head of the valley. (Okay, perhaps that should be "gully" rather than "valley". But it is steep and deep. With worse to come.

At the bottom of the valley is a watercourse. In winter it may be a creek, this time of year in is a watercourse... as far as I can tell. We never reach the low point.

We reach the thick bush which follows the course of the watercourse.

Deb's sister is the next to fall.

Sitting down in -- thrown down by -- the thick bush. It's ti-tree, I think it's used for making lobster pots. Tough, pliable, springy. The sister sits down and utters a non-ladylike four-letter word. (Yes, I heard you :-)

We struggle on. Pushing through bush which pushes back. I use a few four-letter words which Deb's sister may not know. (Ha!) We struggle. We persevere. We succeed.

It's a climb -- up out of the valley -- to the control. (We really should have followed the road and come *down* to the control.)

Again, it's Deb's sister's turn.

I'm struggling... I have lost speed, I have lost a lot of strength and stamina. Uphill is very difficult.

The sister... almost faints. Her heart-measuring device stops recording a heartbeat. It's either off the scale or ... well, she's not dead. She sits before she faints.

And so we struggle on. To the road at the top of the hill.

And finally, it's Deb's turn. Again.

Deb trips over a log. Or a rock. Or... whatever nasty bit of bush there is. And now her ankle really hurts. We reach the road and pause.

Then carry on. I mean, what else can we do?

By this stage... falling over and thick bush has left its mark. We all three are oozing blood. From arms and legs. No worries, we all say.

There's a control in the bush, we don't spend much time looking for it -- we don't find it -- we just stagger back to the road. Taking the quickest way "home", to the finish.

Deb leans on her sister. She tries leaning on me but I'm the wrong height. Her sister gets Deb an old branch to use as a walking stick. I look for the best way "home". We hobble on.

Should we ask a fellow competitor to pass a message, to get a 4wd out to pick us up? I don't even suggest this to Deb. I know she would just grit her teeth and walk on.

Deb grits her teeth. We walk on. Finally... in sight of the end.

The first-aid volunteer comes out to meet us. "We saw you coming from miles away, she says. Do you need a hospital?" No, we reply.

"Sit over here and I'll put on a compression bandage," says the first-aider. Not yet, I reply... First, we need to finish.

So we hobble... well, Deb hobbles, we others just walk slowly and with sympathy. We check in: finished.

Now Deb can sit down and get her ankle bandaged.

Well, actually, the first-aider puts a compression bandage round Deb's knee. Okay, the knee is also sore and there's a lot more blood on the knee.

While Deb is sitting, resting outside the first-aid tent a rogainer walks by. "Do you need a lift to the hospital?" she asks. This says something about the friendliness of rogainers. And something about the expectations of injury.

And that's our rogaine! Sure enough, we came second un the XU class. And except for the bush, the hills, the pain and the exhaustion... It was a great rogaine.

 I learnt that I should keep a closer eye on the team member with a dickey heart. Deb may have learnt that a sore ankle needs rest. Deb's sister may have learnt that we're all crazy (and the next rogaine is in May).

We all (I think) -- once we have had a chance to recover -- had a great time :-)

Dr Nick Lethbridge / Consulting Dexitroboper

...        Agamedes Consulting / Problems ? Solved

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... for the greater good ... against the corrupt metastasis of oligarchic power that stomps on humanity's neck everywhere" ... Sacranist creed, Thin Air

===

Dying for you to read my blog, at https: // notdotdeaddotyet .blogspot. com. au/ :-)

An unremarkable -- good scan :-)

I wake up at six and am out of the door by 6:30. No breakfast :-( today's PET scan requires fasting from midnight.

I'm early -- by my standards -- at Charlie's carpark, already there is a queue of hospital staff ready to start work. Luckily I now know to look for the "visitors" parking sign.

A slow stroll to G Block, bypass Emergency, walk down the long corridor, up the blue lifts... and the door is not yet open. I stall for five minutes then sneak in when a staff member opens the door.

My test is scheduled for 7:10 (am) and it starts on time.

A finger-prick (ouch!) test for diabetes, my result is 5.2 which is probably good. Only when the nurse mentions it do I realise: the PET scan uses radioactive sugar, high blood sugar levels would affect the way that my body uses the injected sugar.

As usual I barely feel the cannula going in. I still don't like it.

An hour resting in dim light with radioactive sugar drifting into and round my body. The nurse comes in to wake me up and to remove the cannula. The cannula is attached with a sticking plaster, this will hurt, says the nurse, I hope you're not going to pull *my* hair, I say... Bet she's never heard that one before :-)

A short break, a visit to the toilet. I notice it's no longer, Do you need to go to the toilet? It's, Follow the arrows to the toilet.

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Here's an aside, back to the MRI a few weeks ago, I don't remember blogging this. (Stop reading if I did.)

The MRI is very noisy. I'm wearing headphones. Every so often the technician will say something through the headphones, possibly, All okay? When I hear a voice I just give a thumbs-up... whatever the voice is saying. I don't listen, I can't hear the words, I can't be bothered saying anything.

The MRI scan ends, people come in to get me up and out. I have nothing to say so I say... nothing. Just stand slowly and walk, slowly, out. The nurses are very solicitous. As I later realise... they probably think -- because I don't answer questions, don't say anything, move carefully -- that I am doddery and senile... incapable of sensible speech.

Who am I to disagree?

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Back to the PET scan, which takes twenty minutes. Then there are sandwiches for after :-) Hey, I've been fasting.

Ten minutes to sit, to be sure that I'm not going to fall over, then I can leave.

I walk back to the carpark thinking, I could buy a coffee. Sure enough, I pass a coffeeshop, I have a credit card. I don't have my phone, it's waiting in the car. I can't be bothered signing in manually... I drive home. Where Deb makes tea :-)

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Mid afternoon there's a text from our deep-ENT: Today's scan is unremarkable -- which is a good thing. Sooo...

Another three months (I hope) till I worry people with my next MRI. Six months to the next PET, unless the MRI is dodgy. I'll check those timings with the cancer doc.

Till then... Enjoying life, three months at a time :-)

Dr Nick Lethbridge / Consulting Dexitroboper

...        Agamedes Consulting / Problems ? Solved

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I've never had bad luck. Just fits of stupidity... per Ginger Meggs

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Dying for you to read my blog, at https: // notdotdeaddotyet .blogspot. com. au/ :-)

joy of shopping

I sometimes laugh at people who claim to enjoy shopping. People who get pleasure just from buying things. People who feel sad when they are not able to shop.

Time to apologise... Or at least to accept that joy of shopping is possible.

Deb & I go shopping on Thursdays. My role is to push the trolley. Sometimes I am sent to get an item that we walked past and missed. It's good fun if only for the company.

On Mondays I drop Deb at work -- and do some shopping on the way home. All by myself. Picking up things which may have run out since Thursday. Including fresh fruit.

I don't eat much fruit. Deb eats a lot. I buy fruit which I think that Deb will like. (That's easy: any fruit :-)

When we're shopping together Deb will sometimes look at, for example, blueberries and say, that's very expensive. By myself I look at blueberries and say, Deb likes blueberries. So I buy them. Happily.

Other food too, not always for Deb. A small yoghurt for a snack. Interesting cheese. Just ... milk, cereal. Today, Worcestershire sauce and kitchen paper. Everyday shopping.

You know what? I enjoy it :-)

The pleasure of searching the shelves. Becoming familiar with the layout of the shop. Finding several similar items and choosing one.

The satisfaction of buying things that Deb says we need. Of buying other items that I have noticed are running low. (Though we sometimes end up with several spare jars of peanut paste.)

It's a lot of fun. And -- as I only slowly realised -- it is very satisfying.

I do the "mid-week" shopping. For grocery items which we will, eventually, use. I enjoy it. It has led me to appreciate the joy of shopping.

Shopping is just a small thing. It is not too difficult. It is very satisfying. I look forward to my independent shopping expeditions.

One of life's little pleasures.

Dr Nick Lethbridge / Consulting Dexitroboper

...        Agamedes Consulting / Problems ? Solved

===

I've never had bad luck. Just fits of stupidity... per Ginger Meggs

===

Dying for you to read my blog, at https: // notdotdeaddotyet .blogspot. com. au/ :-)

another near-clear scan

So I get a call from our own deep-ENT. The MRI analysis is "reassuring".

Deb and I see the doc. We are already reassured :-) I'm not sure just how reassured the doc is... It's her job to see -- and hopefully help me avoid -- the worst.

The shadow on the MRI has grown. There is some swelling around it. But -- the key analysis claims -- it is not a tumour.

Still, better safe than sorry. (Is that right? Is there any "safe"?! Anyway...)

I had forgotten about the required PET scan -- until I was phoned... a couple of days ago. Too late to be scanned before seeing the doc. The doc says, get the PET, it provides a more definite picture of a tumour. Plus another MRI in two months... Getting closer and closer together !

Deb and I are reassured but, of course, reassured only until the next scans :-)

I phone Charlies and arrange the next PET scan, a couple of weeks away. The doc's secretary is setting up the MRI, it'll be in May.

Sooo... The shadow has grown. Indications are that yes, it's radiation necrosis, a known -- not cancerous -- side-effect of radiation therapy. Still watching, just in case. (That is, in case the diagnosis is wrong!)

The affected brain area does... nothing important. From our deep-ENT:

The shadow is in the "parieto-occipital". Controlling vision and ... some weird things. "Awareness of self"? Which sounds interesting... So far google has only found "self-awareness" which sounds a bit different.

The cancer doc offers a clear diagnosis: If I show any symptoms then the shadow is having effects. Hmmm. So it is harmless -- unless it is not :-)

The kids have already pointed out that I act weird.

So overall: all is fine. With the usual proviso: fine so far :-)

Dr Nick Lethbridge / Consulting Dexitroboper

...        Agamedes Consulting / Problems ? Solved

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All we can do is what we can do... Leonard Barrens in The Forever Watch

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Dying for you to read my blog, at https: // notdotdeaddotyet .blogspot. com. au/ :-)

hectic !

It's been a hectic week... On the (very short) campaign trail. Failing to find any babies to kiss :-(

Last Thursday; I drive to Mt Barker, a pleasant four and a half hour drive down Albany Highway. Meet a politician and several wannabe politicians. We each speak for three minutes then answer questions.

One night in Mt Barker -- then drive home again.

Interesting: I'm in the shower, eyes closed, water on my face. I turn quickly -- and do not fall over. Okay, I have never fallen -- but turning with my eyes closed makes me feel unsteady -- but not today. A worthwhile improvement :-)

Home to relax... except for a nine km trail run on Sunday. Family over for Sunday dinner. On Monday I drive to Manjimup -- another four and a half hour drive. This time down South West Highway. There's a shorter way but I prefer the scenery and interest of SW Hwy.

Another speech, more questions. I wonder what I said at the meeting... I have notes, I know I don't follow the notes.

A night in a motel then home -- the short way, just 3.5 hours.

Home on time to join Deb taking our grandson to a swimming lesson.

Next night we look after both grandchildren. Deb tries to follow suggestions to put the toddler to bed, toddler springs awake. I take the simple option and end up sitting on a couch with a toddler -- fast asleep -- lying on top of me.

Thursday is the usual: running, shopping, shopping.

I have a dream: I have started work, in an office. As an employee the first thing I do -- of course -- is to use the office printer for my personal use. I am printing an MRI scan of my head.

Yes, next week is my next scan. I'm not particularly worried. (Deb may be. As usual.) I'm doing well at just not thinking about the results. The dream shows that... I'm still thinking about the scan.

What's annoying is, it's a slow printer... I never see the complete scan. Dang.

Dr Nick Lethbridge / Consulting Dexitroboper

...        Agamedes Consulting / Problems ? Solved

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All we can do is what we can do... Leonard Barrens in The Forever Watch

===

Dying for you to read my blog, at https: // notdotdeaddotyet .blogspot. com. au/ :-)