Judith Proctor's Journal

I decided it was time to stop being ground down by things... (Thanks kerravonsen the suggestion did help. I can't filk Simon and Garfunkle
as their songs don't have structures that suit me well, but it did turn my mind
to other things (not that I suspect you'll be really happy to have inspired a
smutty filk...)
My eyes are watering too much from hay fever to play the psaltery, but the
concertina can be played by touch, so I got that out and composed a new song for
obscene_filkers

If you know the Bacon Game, where you have to link actors who have appeared in
the same movie until you get to one with Kevin Bacon, then you'll understand the
filk.
Molly, my mother-in-law with the broken arm should be okay. As dougs says, she's practical and intelligent. Although she's 75 now
and on her own since Richard's dad died, she has a lot of friends in the village
and her other son lives close enough to be able to call in regularly. I suspect
she'll be frustrated at not being able to look after the garden properly though.
She's a very keen gardener with a large garden.
Speaking of gardens, I am going to attempt to weed around my raspberries in
spite of the heat.
One hour later - that's a batch of useful work done around the raspberries and
on the back lawn. (I'm compiling this while off-line as I only connect up
during cheap rate)

Richard looked up the figures on the web for me:

Ovarian cancer - 50% five year survival rate. I'd just about got used to that
idea...

Stomach cancer - 20% five year surival rate.

She has a thickening in the stomach wall - presumably the original cancer (they
have to culture the cells for a week before they know for sure)

There's a tumour on the ovary and another twisted around her bowel.

She can't keep down solid food of any kind.

I shall have a couple of lousy nights sleep before my mind adjusts, but it's a
different kind of adjestment that knows to expect the worst and to regard
revovery as a long shot rather than a decent chance.

My voice is starting to come back again. Once I can talk properly, I shall go
and visit her, but there seems little point until then.

I hope the pollen count drops soon. Once my eyes stop watering, there's more I
can do to distract myself.