BACK ON THE CHEMO MERRY-GO-ROUND

I had my three monthly Hormone Therapy Implant 12 days ago and wouldn’t you know: within 48 hours the hot flushes were back in spades. I’m not sure what I expected but I’m pretty certain whatever testosterone I had coursing through my body when I was diagnosed, is now well and truly just a memory so I was hoping the flushes would have settled down. After a 3 week hiatus, I had to make a decision whether to resume Chemotherapy 8 days ago and honestly, the temptation to declare “stop the merry-go-round, I want to get off” was really strong. The realisation that quitting Chemo would basically be giving up drew me back to the Hospital on May 30th for another Infusion.

The day before Chemo and the 8 days since have gone like this: May 29. Took my four Dexamethasone tablets and as usual insomnia was a real issue. May 30. Four more Dexy tablets, a drip of Palonosetron and my fourth course of Chemo. Only side effect on the day was an uncomfortable, burning red face. May 31. Had to self administer a Pegfilgrastim injection into my belly and took my last 4 Dexy Tabs. June 1. Pretty much a “side effect’ free day.😀 June 2. The pain in my legs resumed and the constant nausea was back. June 3. As for June 2 with the addition of a mouth that feels like its been scalded and my taste buds are screwed up again. It’s a sad day when you can’t enjoy Coffee and Chocolate because they both taste incredibly bitter. June 4. A pretty miserable day with the previous day’s side effects still in play and with my fatigue probably worse than it’s ever been. June 5. My bone pain was a good bit better and had resolved itself a couple of days earlier than after my previous 3 Chemo sessions. June 6. My nausea was surprisingly much better. June 7. The only side effect I’m experiencing now is the “scalded mouth” so in summary, Session 4’s impacts have been a lot easier to cope with than any of the previous 3 and the best news is, I now have only 2 more Chemo Sessions remaining. 🥳

Winston Churchill is credited with saying “There is something about the outside of a horse that is good for the inside of a man”. I don’t disagree with old Winston’s analysis but since I’ve been housebound with Rupert, I’m of the firm belief that the outside of Woody the Dachshund is wonderful for this old bloke. He belongs to my Grandson Mitchell and his Girlfriend Caitlin and I suspect they recognise his company is really good for me and consequently he spends a bit of time with us. I have no idea how such an incredibly smart little dog can be so bloody disobedient. I am positive if ever he broke out of our back yard, we’d never see him again. If he spotted us looking for him he’d gallop off as fast as his little legs would carry him to avoid recapture. He sleeps in the bed with me and the 2 short videos above show his bedtime routine. I only wish I had his bladder control as he never has to wake me up to go for a wee and generally, as long as I am sleeping, he is sleeping. In short, and he is REALLY short, he’s a bloody ripper.🥰

I’ve mentioned my 7 year old Granddaughter, Ainsley previously, and she truly is the apple of Pop’s eye. Or at least she was until 7am this morning when I was woken from a deep sleep to the dulcet tones of my Amazon Echo Show announcing “Remember to water your plants”. The smart little bugger had set a reminder to wake me and Woody up. I suspect she knows that I haven’t watered a plant in 50 years which makes her joke even funnier. Pranking War has now been declared between Pop and Ainsley and The Geneva Convention Rules Of War are forthwith suspended. I will be spending the next 24 hours coming up with a “shock and awe” counter attack!

I’ve always played Team Sports and I’m pretty happy with my choices but in saying that, I’ve invariably enjoyed playing social golf with mates. Perhaps because I was a complete fucking hacker, I never had any interest in playing in Club Competitions but the camaraderie and laughs shared with mates over 18 holes followed by a drink at the 19th will remain with me forever. These anecdotes always make me smile and hopefully will give you a laugh as well. Amazingly, all are verifiably true stories.

THE DAY OF THE POWERFUL DRIVE THROUGH SQUARE LEG. One of my favourite Golf companions is Tim Walsh. Tim has had a Home in Indented Heads for as long as I have known him and a morning round of golf followed by an afternoon of feasting on Portarlington mussels was an amazing way to fill in a day. One morning around the late 80’s we met for a round at Clifton Springs Golf Club and as the local “expert”, Tim had the honour on the first hole. I was to hit second so I positioned myself just outside the Tee Box, directly behind Tim, 180 degrees around from where his ball was teed up, as he took aim and launched his drive. Well he sort of launched his drive! This may sound like a physical impossibility but it happened and I have the scar on my shin to prove it. The club speed on Tim’s swing was impressive and the exit velocity on his drive was one for the ages. He smashed it. Unfortunately, the drive never made it to the fairway but it did thunder between his legs at a rate of knots, narrowly missing his genitalia before crashing into my left leg as I watched from what anyone would justifiably consider a totally safe vantage point. I’ve seen some bad hooks off the tee over the last 60 years of social golf but that physics defying, first drive of Tim’s was absolutely unique. I thought they were going to have to call for Medical help for me after the ball thundered into my shin – not to treat my leg but to place me in a MICA Ambulance to prevent me having a heart attack, I was laughing that hard.

IS THAT A GOLF BALL IN YOUR POCKET OR ARE YOU JUST PLEASED TO SEE ME? For many years when I lived in Melbourne, I was a Member of The Caduceus Club, a luncheon Club that would meet every couple of months for Lunch. Once per annum we would have a Golf Day where 4 Player Teams competed under Armbrose conditions. For a number of years our Golf Day was held at the prestigious Yarra Yarra Golf Club, one of Melbourne’s 8, world renowned, Sand Belt courses. The Course is most famous for its 4 par threes with the great Peter Thomson once describing the 185 meter Par 3 eleventh as a “national treasure”. It was on this “national treasure” that I hit what will always remain, the most embarrassing Tee Shot of my chequered golf career. This particular Golf Day, I found myself playing in a Team with 3 blokes who could really play including the Club Captain from nearby Kingston Heath. My biggest contribution to what eventually proved the winning Team was undoubtedly my then Handicap of 26. One of the Rules for our Armbrose Golf Days was that all Team Members had to use 4 of their Tee Shots. As I stood over my ball, the realisation that we’d already played 10 Holes without using any of my drives weighed heavily on me. Champion Australian Cricketer and World War 2 Fighter Pilot, Keith Miller, once stated that “Pressure is a Messerschmitt up your arse, playing cricket is not”. With respect Keith, I’d propose that real pressure is having 8 holes to play in an Armbrose Competition and knowing that you still have to count 4 of your Tee Shots. Anyway, back to my Tee Shot. One of the Green Keepers was mowing the Green on his ride on mower and he pulled to the safety of the back of the green and called us up. By my standards, I hit a decent shot that landed on the back of the green and then one bounced into the Green Keeper’s jacket pocket. He calmly climbed down from his mower and emptied my ball out of his pocket and on to the first cut of rough. One of my 4 Tee Shots was now in the books. I’m not sure if the Green Keeper reported me to the Club Committee for hitting him and failing to yell out “fore” but I do know that we never again played our Golf Day at Yarra Yarra. As a member of the winning team (the token out marker) I received a great Putter and as the striker of a shot that The Club Captain of Kingston Heath declared, he’d never seen the likes of, I received a Box of Titleist Golf Balls. Not too bad a result, all things considered. ⛳️

HEY DUCK, I SAID DUCK! As I’m not sure of The Statute Of Limitations for “Duck Hunting out of season” and for “animal cruelty” (is a duck actually an animal?) it’s probably best that I don’t identify the lead character in this tale and refer to him only as The General. I’ve known The General for over 50 years now and a more loyal friend you will never find but he was, and remains, a competitive bastard and he’s always had just a little bit of a temper. Just as I had a bit of a weakness for buying horses and keeping my wife in the dark about my purchases, The General’s weakness was buying the latest set of technologically improved Golf Clubs. This led to a bit of a problem for The General as he needed to hide his previously purchased “old” Clubs from his wife. His choice of hiding spot was quite innovative, with the roof cavity of his home becoming the resting place for, at one stage, 4 complete sets of relatively new golf clubs and their bags. Now, if you’ve ever carried a complete Golf Bag, you will know that they are reasonably heavy. Legend has it, that the 4 sets of Clubs was a bit much for the ceiling plaster and when it came time to sell his home, a Structural Engineer’s Report stated that the cracked plaster would need to be replaced prior to the property obtaining a structural approval certificate. The General thought that was a small price to have to pay for keeping both his wife and his discarded golf clubs, in the dark for so many years. As mentioned previously, The General could go off in his younger days and one Sunday afternoon at Sunshine Baseball Club, he threw one of the best fast balls I’d ever seen him release at a group of Sunshine hecklers, who’d been shouting incessant abuse at the Essendon Players while consuming their Sunday arvo cans under the shade of their Club Room’s veranda. With hindsight, I’m glad that his fast ball narrowly missed the serial offenders, but at the time, I was definitely hoping he would ping the fucking pest who had christened me Blossom on a previous visit to Sunshine Town. Now for the Duck Tale. The General’s competitive nature was often on display on the Golf Course and just as he threw the baseball at the Sunshine Clowns, it was not unknown for him to fling his golf club off into the distance when he badly miss hit a shot. The noise a club makes when thrown in disgust is very distinctive and the best way to describe it would be as similar to the sound a helicopter makes when coming down to land. That is, whoosh, whoosh, whoosh. The course where The General’s most famous, or should that be infamous, throwing of the club occurred, is probably best not revealed but his weapon of choice was a 3 iron and the course did have a large waddle of Mallard Ducks. These are the pretty ones with the beautiful green necks and heads. I like to think that the last thing that went through the ill fated Mallard’s head prior to it being removed by The General’s rotating 3 iron was “Where the fuck is that helicopter? I can hear it but I can’t see it.” Ever since that Duck Decapitation day, I can honestly say, the above described events, have been retold during every round of golf I’ve subsequently played with The General. The General truly is a great friend.

THIS WEEK’S BINGING RECOMMENDATION. SBS On Demand is a source of many wonderful International Series and this week’s recommendation comes from there. It is The Bureau, a French Series with 5 Seasons available for streaming. Each Season seems better than the previous one and it is riveting viewing. Very highly recommended.