Although I might be trying to avoid over used metaphors for cancer I could not resist this one! The second round of chemo was a marathon rather than a boxing match as I had a bad reaction to the meds and they had to spread them out over six hours rather than three so the whole day was twelve hours at the hospital in the end But oh boy the staff are amazing and some of them were there as long as me! Let us cherish our NHS. Today is hyped-up-on-steroids day so I’m a bit manic. I made a nut roast first thing, then went to the shops, then had second breakfast, followed by a sit down, lunch, a walk to the park and back (via the cafe) and now I’m on the computer as you see! It’ll all come crashing down tomorrow, but it’s a nice buffer between the treatment and the hard bit. I’m well armed with painkillers and hot water bottles etc now so maybe it’ll be easier this time.
So, to the challenges. More of you are learning things by heart, thanks! There’s Shakespeare sonnets and speeches, other people learning poems they half know, like me – and my partner Dave is learning the lyrics to Tom Lehrer’s song, The Elements, which is probably the hardest thing to commit to memory as all the chemical elements are so similar! Many of you are learning new or old instruments and/ or new skills – I’m dead impressed. Keep them coming.
I’ve now got five poems completely – and this is the latest, which I already nearly new, so it didn’t take long. I think it’s a lovely description of what I think of as ‘secular prayer’ but you can apply it to any kind of prayer too I guess and I am most grateful to those of you who are supporting me with any kind of prayer – secular or otherwise. I even had a lovely sprig of heather in a card the other day… all the vibes are good! Here’s Carol Ann Duffy’s poem then:
Prayer
Some days, although we cannot pray, a prayer
utters itself. So, a woman will lift
her head from the sieve of her hands and stare
at the minims sung by a tree, a sudden gift.
Some nights, although we are faithless, the truth
enters our hearts, that small familiar pain;
then a man will stand stock-still, hearing his youth
in the distant Latin chanting of a train.
Pray for us now. Grade I piano scales
console the lodger looking out across
a Midlands town. Then dusk, and someone calls
a child’s name as though they named their loss.
Darkness outside. Inside, the radio’s prayer—
Rockall. Malin. Dogger. Finisterre.
I like the ending – that lovely mantra of the shipping forecast which probably only those who live in the UK and are of a certain (Radio 4 listening) age will respond to.
Meanwhile, the good news is that the two or so weeks when I am feeling fine between treatments are turning out to be pretty ok. We even made it to London for a couple of shows last week and it was really good to get out of the house and see some joyful nonsense! We saw The Producers – fantastic production – and The Importance of Being Earnest with Stephen Fry as Lady Bracknell. Great performance from him of course and from Olly Alexander as Algernon and Hugh Dennis as the vicar. See either of these if you can – they’re so uplifting!
I’ll be along with other updates soon. Meanwhile I have some non-serious telly watching to do.
Lesley
Lesley Jeffries 