nurse, nurse.......the screens
I might have mentioned that I've been in hospital lately.
In fact, I've spent a fair bit of time being seen by the NHS over the last few years, primarily because my days as a racing cyclist may have caused me to have something called a heart arrhythmia. Or as I prefer to call it, an attack of instant death.
Then just last week following a visit to my GP about a cripplingly bad back, I was admitted for yet another stay at the tax payers' expense. Anyway, on Thursday and after a week of eating nothing but morphine, I was diagnosed with something called myeloma. After promising my doctor that I would stay out of the sun she explained that I was suffering with bone marrow cancer and not some sort of skin malady.
This it would seem, well judging by the reactions of people around me, was not good news. However I prefer to look at this in a more positive light.
Firstly, there is no way I can be seriously ill. After all, following 10 days in hospital during which I wasn't allowed to move and every (yes, every) bodily function was measured and tested, as soon as I was diagnosed I was told to go home and to pop back for a chat next week.
Secondly, it seems I will lose a lot of weight. For someone who continued to eat in the same vein as in my bike racing days this can only be a good thing.
Finally, the treatment for myeloma as far as I can see involves pumping me full of what basically amounts to a cocktail of performance enhancing drugs.
So, 2015 will see me making a comeback to shaving my legs, wearing lycra and being knocked over by bus drivers.
And I will of course be invincible.
I shan't worry either. It's not as if the races I'll be taking part in would attract the WADA drug testers. And in any case, who has ever heard of a sportsman beating cancer, successfully returning to competition and then being tested positive for drugs.
No, such a notion would be plainly comical, laughable and ridiculous.
However (and here's where I get serious for a change), the very thought of cheating death and then cheating the people you love, your supporters and fellow competitors just to win a bike race is far from funny. In fact, about as far from funny as cancer is itself.
In fact, I've spent a fair bit of time being seen by the NHS over the last few years, primarily because my days as a racing cyclist may have caused me to have something called a heart arrhythmia. Or as I prefer to call it, an attack of instant death.
Then just last week following a visit to my GP about a cripplingly bad back, I was admitted for yet another stay at the tax payers' expense. Anyway, on Thursday and after a week of eating nothing but morphine, I was diagnosed with something called myeloma. After promising my doctor that I would stay out of the sun she explained that I was suffering with bone marrow cancer and not some sort of skin malady.
This it would seem, well judging by the reactions of people around me, was not good news. However I prefer to look at this in a more positive light.
Firstly, there is no way I can be seriously ill. After all, following 10 days in hospital during which I wasn't allowed to move and every (yes, every) bodily function was measured and tested, as soon as I was diagnosed I was told to go home and to pop back for a chat next week.
Secondly, it seems I will lose a lot of weight. For someone who continued to eat in the same vein as in my bike racing days this can only be a good thing.
Finally, the treatment for myeloma as far as I can see involves pumping me full of what basically amounts to a cocktail of performance enhancing drugs.
So, 2015 will see me making a comeback to shaving my legs, wearing lycra and being knocked over by bus drivers.
And I will of course be invincible.
I shan't worry either. It's not as if the races I'll be taking part in would attract the WADA drug testers. And in any case, who has ever heard of a sportsman beating cancer, successfully returning to competition and then being tested positive for drugs.
No, such a notion would be plainly comical, laughable and ridiculous.
However (and here's where I get serious for a change), the very thought of cheating death and then cheating the people you love, your supporters and fellow competitors just to win a bike race is far from funny. In fact, about as far from funny as cancer is itself.
Um….what to say that doesn’t sound trite and cliché…… although I will say I look forward to meeting you wearing Lycra racing garb with shaved legs! (Seriously, your positive attitude is half the battle! Sending good vibes from over here!)
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