turning back the clock

Since Steve's diagnosis, I often think how much I would like to turn back the clock to the time he was exposed to asbestos - whenever that was - and stop him breathing in those fibres. Sadly, that's not possible.  


However, I can take you back though the years to show you a portrait of the artist as a young man....the journey starts in the here and now, with Steve's most recent passport photo, taken just a few days ago.  

What a pity you're not allowed to smile these days for your official mug shot.  Steve usually looks a lot happier than this, in spite of everything - honest!  We searched high and low in the city centre to find a photo booth, without success.  So I had to try my hand at portrait photography, and here's the result.  No specs allowed, which explains why he looks just a little unfocussed. Or perhaps it's the strain of keeping a straight face! Renewing his passport is a good sign that Steve is thinking positively.  When the new one arrives, come spring, we'll be ready to roam!

A decade earlier this time, 1999 - getting ready for the new millennium. Jack and Katie were still at home, and I still worked at Oxford City Council. Everything has change since then! 


This is a scan from Steve's last passport photo taken in a booth. As you can see, he couldn't keep a straight face then either!

Time to turn the clock back again, this time to 1989:


Check out those glasses!


Katie was born that year. Steve boasted that when he was 60, he would be walking out with a beautiful 18 year old young woman - which he did...

Back another decade, and we've gone into black and white.  Steve assures me that they are NOT the same glasses.  


1979 and we were DINKies, in our first (and still only) house of our own. It would be another two years before Jack would be born. We are now in the Glossies era!  Some of you may remember our little shop in North Parade Avenue, where Steve produced brilliant silkscreened and airbrushed images of his own design on window blinds made to order, and I contributed a few "soft sculpture" cakes, applique cushions, painted silk scarves and mirrors.

Turn back the clock again.........It's 1973, and that hairy man is the chap I had married the previous year.


Yes, it really is Steve under the flowing locks, beard and mustache. Hadn't quite grown out of being hippies - well he was still a student at that time, although I had started work initially at the Poly, then on to the City Council. We lived in a flat on Iffley Road and had some very good parties I seem to recall....

Back to 1969 now - the hair is not quite so long and has yet to adorn the face.  This is how I remember Steve when I first met him...and thought to myself what a weird name, little knowing that some three years later I would be sharing it and spelling out the letters for others.


Remember those Indian silk scarves? I think we still have the one Steve's wearing in the photo - somewhere!


Coming towards the end of the rogue's gallery now....

It's 1967......Steve had left school and started as an architecture student at Oxford Poly (now Brookes Uni).  And here he is in his student ID card - looking remarkably smart, don't you think?


I didn't know him at the time - I was still living in London, at school doing my A Levels. But I have no doubt that I would have fancied him, had we bumped into each other!

And so to the last picture in this series (don't worry, I'm not going to get the baby photos out!)


It's 1965 and guess who's a mod?  


Why Steve, what smoldering eyes you have! 


Steve was 18 years old at the time. Actually he hasn't changed that much with the passing of time...


Looking through this gallery, we decided it needed updating, with a picture of Steve wearing his specs and looking normal with a smile on his face. But that will have to wait for another time!


While we're on a photographic theme, I have two things to report - a man called Howard Grill has paid me a nice compliment on his photography blog Motivation.  He likes my mono work! http://howardgrill.blogspot.com/2010/01/black-and-white-vision.html 


...and I've had an image shortlisted in the International Garden Photographer of the Year Competition, but it will be a while before I know whether it makes the final selection. Not holding my breath, as the same thing happened last year, but I fell at the last fence. Still, it's pleasing to get this far!


One of the reasons I filled today's blog with a photo gallery (other than wanting to entertain you) is that there is no news on Steve's health front. The tingles in his fingers and toes continue, but haven't got noticeably worse. Apart from that life goes on as normal....


Don't worry about long silences on the blog in the next few weeks...it's simply because I will be working away from home for much of next week, and the week after. As Steve will be on his own, please do send him the occasional e-mail so he knows he isn't forgotten ;-)

there may be trouble ahead......

The medical term is "peripheral neuropathy".  When I've talked about on the blog, I've called it tingling. Steve describes it thus: think of those occasions when your arm or leg has gone to sleep after lying on it awkwardly overnight - there is a point between complete numbness and the onset of really sharp pins and needles as the limb comes back to life. It's that in-between feeling that Steve is experiencing at the moment in his hands and feet.  


It seems that nerve sheaths are vulnerable to attack by chemo drugs - it's an acknowledged side effect of both Cisplatin and Velcade, which Steve took for six cycles last year.  Under the heading Most common Velcade Risks, the drug trail leaflet refers to "painful sensations or numbness and tingling in hands and feet, which may not get better after discontinuation of Velcade".  The paragraph on the side effects of Cisplatin states "Occasionally Cisplatin can damage small nerves, which may cause ringing in the ears and mild deafness, or tingling or numbness in the hands and feet....The damage to small nerves usually - but not always, resolves over a few months".  


As Steve wasn't bothered by this problem during treatment, we think the main culprit is probably the Cisplatin. However, the tingling has become more noticeable over the last few weeks, and is getting worse, so we've been doing a bit of research online to find out more. One study found that peripheral neuropathy peaks some 3-5 months after treatment ceases. This is rather alarming, bearing in mind that the last dose of Cisplatin was on 6 November, less than three months ago. The problem is manageable at the moment, but if it gets much worse, I think may be some help may be required. But for the time being, we'll see whether good diet, the occasional massage and a bit more exercise can keep it under control.

There may be trouble ahead
But while there's music and moonlight and love and romance
Let's face the music and dance 

toes and snows

Steve continues to experience tingling in his extremities - well hands and feet, to be more precise! 


The problem with his toes seems to be exacerbated by wearing socks and heavy shoes, so he continues to wear his walking sandals around the house.  Bit of a problem when he wants to go out though, especially today when the snow has returned and is falling thick and fast as I write (but not sticking, so far). However, the walk into town for the new photo necessary to renew his passport will have to wait for a day or two.


Usually, this time of the year we are cheering ourselves up by planning holidays for the spring and summer. But things are a bit different this year. Rather than finalizing our travel and accommodation arrangements far in advance, we'll go back to the way we used to do it BC (before children) - take off at the last minute to wherever the fancy takes us.  


Having a long block of time away work from April onwards means we can be flexible about dates. Leaving it until the last minute will give us the opportunity to choose the destination, type of holiday and how we get there according to how Steve feels at the time.  


I hope we will be spoilt for choice!

thinking of others

Today's blog is dedicated to the people of Haiti - so much human tragedy and suffering, on such an epic scale.  Our thoughts are with all those experiencing this crisis, including the international medical support, search and rescue teams and humanitarian aid workers on the ground. And not forgetting those coordinating the aid effort from afar, including my friend Angela, who is facing her own personal loss at the same time.


Thinking of others living and dying in such tragic and horrible circumstances puts our own problems into perspective.  It makes us realize how fortunate we are in so many respects, notwithstanding Steve's diagnosis which hangs over us like the proverbial sword of Damocles.  


We all need to help and support each other at times like this. Back to mundane reality next blog...but a philosophical thought for today:

"We cannot live only for ourselves. 

A thousand fibers connect us with our fellow men; and among those fibers, as sympathetic threads, our actions run as causes, and they come back to us as effects." 

Herman Melville

American novelist

1819-1891

Seven months on and still going strong :-)

It's been a week of joy and frustration. 


We had become frustrated by the difficulties of getting out and about in the snow. Then, joy of joys, the thaw started yesterday and by this morning, the blanket of snow has all but disappeared here - just the mini-mountains left where it has been cleared and piled up.  We can see green, at last!


Our attempt to re-stock with food yesterday was thwarted by a car battery so dead that not even a jump start from our neighbour's car could persuade it into life.  It took about five hours before assistance eventually arrived, but then, to Steve's relief, the man managed to get enough life into the old battery to get the car to the dealership, where he promptly fitted a new battery free of charge - problem solved!  Sadly, too late to go food shopping, but there was enough in the store cupboard to concoct something basic...


In the meantime, attempts to order contact lenses were frustrated by the lack of an up-to-date prescription. Frustratingly, it seems that the eye test I'd had in August only covered specs. Luckily the optician managed to fit me in short notice, and it was full steam ahead. I will soon be able to see properly again without wearing my glasses, which get in the way when I'm using the camera...


But the best experience of the week was last night.  I called in briefly to see John, the chair of the local allotment association, to tell him the news about the RHS photography competition and to sound him out about thank you gifts for the association and the holder of allotment featured in the winning image. We ended up talking about Steve's diagnosis and I was given much support by the family who have first hand experience of living with cancer.  Some hours and several glasses of wine later, I was chauffeur driven home with two hot, delicious, home-cooked meals, including five portions of vegetables from the allotment to keep us healthy. The generosity, kindness and support we receive from those we know touches us deeply.  Thank you all, so much.


Which brings me to the headline.  It's now seven months to the day since Steve was diagnosed and he's still going strong.  The nausea and tiredness caused by the chemo has all but disappeared. Without that to distract him, he's now more aware of the tingling in his hands and feet - another side effect of the chemo regime - but it's not so bad as to impact on day-to-day activity.  At the risk of tempting fate, there are no indications at present that Leo is misbehaving, which has to be good news.  


Now there's a bit more colour in the world and traveling is easier, I'm hoping that we can be a bit more active physically and socially.  Opportunities to do that are mainly limited to weekends for the time being, as my intense period of work continues more or less full time until the end of March.  However, there is Valentines and our special meal out to look forward to in the meantime, and a week off around Steve's birthday.  Time now to think about how to celebrate those events and to mark Steve's eight months since diagnosis, which will be the next milestone health-wise.

A whiter shade of pale

Just when it looked like it would soon be safe to go out, the snow has returned and everything has turned a whiter shade of pale. And it's still snowing....


Here's something to remind you that we live in a green and pleasant land most of the time: 

Checking back, I see that the RHS photo of the year was taken on 26 June 2009, 10 days after Steve's diagnosis - the same day he walked into town to collect his bus pass - and then walked all the way home again.  Talk about stubborn!  


However, that fighting attitude has kept him going for the last eight months or so, and long may it continue to do so. There are times when his defences are weak.  Being stuck indoors most of the time for the last nine days because of the snow has not been easy - too much time on his hands to ponder his fate and get a bit maudlin. 


I think we both need to get out and about and see a bit of colour in the world.  The novelty of a blanket of white covering everything is wearing a bit thin.  Roll on spring!

It's official!

This evening's blog has nothing to do with mesothelioma - I'm showing off and sharing the good news!


It's official - I can take a good snap.  I'm RHS Photographer of the Year! http://www.rhs.org.uk/Competitions/Photo-competition


Now that's brightened up the deep mid-winter :-))