Post operative…


There is increasing recognition for post traumatic stress, which leaves even the strongest wills feeling like a failed superhero!!

Life changes in an instant and it isn’t until after the treatment ends that the work often begins?


My advice is always to ask for the help you need and keep on asking until you feel that you can live the life you deserve. I am not a survivor, I am a post operative!


slide1Would you believe it, I did dry January? -yes me and wine, a conscious uncoupling and a sober time!

Now, I know that there are lots of links with breast cancer, women and alcohol -believe me, many an overweight, smoking, doctor has told me how to live my life! But this year, helped by the flu, I was determined…


I’m feeling sanctimonious,

With nothing I have done,

And who’d have thought abstention,

Would be a challenge won?

My motivate, contention,

It’s really been no fun…

And so despite the sober stats,

The bureaucrats,

And lifestyle facts;

With healthy inattention,

A February intervention,

Abandoned resolution,

From pious overrun…

I didn’t ask for sponsorship, because, let’s be honest, I didn’t think my track record was rock solid!! But come now, there must be a drink in it? I work for and campaign for Macmillan Cancer Support, so you can find out more and support our work here



Last week I got sick. I have essentially had bouts of this coughing since November and the doctor was very surprised at my poor lung function -it seem like the chemo will always bite back!

I heard from another friend who lost her father in law in December and Simon’s uncle is in hospital. We need to get this under control, if I’m going to reach 100 -and I have every intension! There must be some pleasure in middle age?




My peers all have parents who’re dropping like flies,

For my generation, impending demise,

And all of this happening before we got wise!

This Brownie Guide hadn’t prepared…


My face has an aura of well past run in,

The boob job’s deflated (that’s really done in),

And January’s dry, so no chance of a gin!

This Brownie Guide hadn’t prepared…


However we’re here and the morale uncracked,

Reinvented, eccentric and dispensed with tact,

And who would be loved as a pin up in fact?

This Brownie Guide hadn’t prepared…


I am now on the antibiotics and a little change, I am waiting for the clouds to pass, they will…. I must never forget the value of health, it is the most important thing in life and when it fails it effects everything! I hope your start to 2017 has looked more fun!

I work for and campaign for Macmillan Cancer Support, you can support us at,

Now it is autumn…

slide1It has been a sad week as my dear French neighbour, Marie, died.  She had Parkinson’s disease and had been a light in my life for 20 years.  What do I regret?  Not buying her a top from M&S -I meant to, it would have made her smile!  I regret not phoning more when we were in England and not liking her sausage and cheese cake (a family joke).  I reckon she’d laugh to be on my Facebook feed!

Also my friends Amanda and Anne had birthdays, but they are no longer with us either -cancer, the big au revoir!!!

I’ve never felt it was a fight, a struggle perhaps?

Now it is autumn….


I’ve gone all November,

All wet leaves and fog,

I’m trying to remember,

The point of the blog?


I strip off the fabric,

To expose a mess,

They cut out the passion,

I had to undress…


The atmosphere over,

A tunnel of hush,

Where once with a tambourine

Clattering I’d rush…


The things that I told you,

Whilst shouting out loud,

Have floated off silent,

Like rain in the cloud…

Sticky notes…

national-poetry-day-2016-asking-all-the-naughty-cellsYesterday was national poetry day, for which the theme was messages and I wrote some Tweetable (is that Twitable?) work…

  1. The medics well meant,

But I don’t hear the message,

I give my consent,

For the cure and the wreckage…

  1. Message in a drip bag,

Communicates in vein,

Asking all the naughty cells,

Not to come again!

  1. How does the chemo,

Message my hair?

To self destruct totally,

And should I care?

  1. Message strings give you,

Support opportunity,

Always there with you,

Macmillan Community…


Working 9-5….

A crisp cold October,

A short skirt, boot throb,

A polo neck over,

The boob and the blob,

As leaves start to fall,

As clothes cover all,

We’re sparkly, un-sober,

And still on the job!


slide1As the autumn turns and school and collage starts another year, I am always reminded of the gap between what we are taught and what we learn?

How do we ever learn the knack,

Of greeting disappointment?

Of picking out, of bouncing back,

The fly out of the ointment?

Success says that we need a plan,

A long life span (a handy man?)

Yet health and wealth need more than stealth,

Post cancer news appointment…


The bloods are in, the boobs are out,

A snap decision, a quick incision,

You cry (although you ought to shout)

The bare front long division…

Why did I learn my ABC,

But not the art of being me?

The thrills and skills of swallowing pills,

When life’s course is collision?


Macmillan Cancer Support is holding its world’s biggest coffee morning this week. I can’t be there but want you to be aware that fundraising is hugely important to Macmillan. Without people doing events, running marathons, climbing mountains, and donating in all the other ways that you can, Macmillan wouldn’t be there to support those affected by cancer. Please support my fundraising on


(with apologies to this class, Halstead CP, 1973)


Photo on 24-07-2016 at 09.06 #2

Sitting at the hairdressers I see an ocean of people with huge robes over scant clothes, it is a contradiction and as they leave they all look so perfect, with cared hair and plunging necklines! I do wish retail would realise that some of us can’t wear t-shirts any more, according to the NHS, “in 2012-13, just under 23,200 mastectomies were carried out in England.” (Sorry I couldn’t find whole UK figures!!)


A sea of knees,

A field of necks,

The summer breeze

Couture forgets…


My hair’s okay,

My legs quite good,

My front a surg-

-eon never should…


Have added bobs,

And shaped in bits,

And cut my tummy,

To make up tits.


So spare a care,

My boobs don’t cleave,

Tops to the nape,

Could you conceive?


Come on, who can help? Take a photo of yourself in a favourite high neck summer top and post it with the hashtag #highnecksummer

Why not also make a donation to the work of Macmillan Cancer Support -the price of a cocktail could help someone facing a difficult time to feel more in control again

Thank you!

A worthy try…

Ma&Pa album 16

I am a-political (always have been) an advocate of the Edith Cavell version of government, “patriotism is not enough. I must have no hatred or bitterness towards anyone”

The amazing thing about being ill is incorporating imperfection into your life, it is like speeding up age. Suddenly you can’t jump so high, walk so far, swagger so easily -and the younger it happens the more that there is at stake.


I vowed to thee, my country, all earthly things above,

Entire and whole and perfect, it didn’t last my love…

The love that asks no question, the love that stands the test,

The treatment and the surgery, and you live with the rest!

The love that never falters, the love that pays the price,

That patches up, you carry on and think hope will suffice!


And there’s another country, a place I’d like to go,

Most dear to them that love her, most great to them that know;

Where overcoming challenge and experience are king,

Her fortress is a faithful heart, her pride is suffering;

And soul by soul and silently her shining bounds increase,

And her ways are ways of gentleness, and all her paths are peace.


For me I have kept a sense of humour and perspective but even now I am regretting some of the physical decisions I made about my treatment, as 11 years on the sustainability of reconstructive procedure (fat and tissue redistribution) diminishes. I am part of the Absolutely Fabulous generation, get the tambourine out, we need to promote uniqueness and gloriously embrace imperfection!


(with apologies to Sir Cecil Spring-Rice)

Under the bed…

Slide1I recently finished the book Tea and Chemo’, which I very much enjoyed, and the author, Jackie Buxton, was kind enough to thank me when I tweeted as much. However she talks about being someone always on the go, busy, active, in control (she is better with her alcohol than I am!) and it is like looking in the mirror- is there a cancer type?


As I finished the book I was also struck by what it all did and must continue to do to the family, our girls were 9 and 12 when I was diagnosed and have grown into such wonder women -is that fair? They might have been tempted to hide away from it all; I am lucky they didn’t…


Did I steal your childhood,

When they took my hair?

Was the wig so funny,

Did you care?


How do you remember,

Did we all seem sick?

Do you look back different?

Was it over quick?


For me you were amazing,

And the drugs were the concern,

You even sat and read with me,

Whilst they made me sunburn….


Memories change with age,

My front still looks a mess,

You help me find high necks,

It’s part of my success…


On fathers’ day weekend it is appropriate that we celebrate how important families are!


PS this is the only photo I have of me in a wig, I don’t look much fun!!

The challenge…


I look at the Macmillan pages on JustGiving and this week we have someone who has recovered from a brain tumor and so, unable to climb now, is cycling for us. Someone who is doing her third hike in memory of her sister, she enjoys the company of the people this allows her to meet. A charity football match for rival West End productions, and in memory of a wig lady. One lady posts a picture of her bandaged foot, but she is signed up and expects to be off for 2017. How proud am I to work with such inspiring people!


They run ‘cause they loved you,

They walk ‘cause they care,

They’re having a football match

(Wish you were there).


They’re broken and bandaged,

It won’t hold them back,

I wish I had half of their

Courage to pack…


They’re all our supporters,

They’re people like you,

Who’re just blooming grateful

For all they can do.


But actually also

They’re people like me,

Who know that Macmillan

Helps those who’re at sea…


So whatever your fancy, go for it! More than one in three of us will get cancer. For most of us it will be the toughest fight we ever face. Now, more than ever, we need people like you to join our team and help us make sure no one faces cancer alone.

Don’t forget, if you just want to make a donation you can do so at