Hair Today Gone Tomorrow & the Benefit of Baileys!

    I am a girl who likes the odd tipple, indeed have even been known to occasionally topple whilst tippling too much, so imagine my delight when I discovered an alcoholic drink that did not give me heartburn or make me violently ill whilst on chemotherapy.
    I love the French Health System for many reasons, their efficiency, their care, their compassion but most of all for their healthy attitude towards alcohol.
    When I asked my oncologist about the wisdom of having something stronger than tea he looked at me as if I had landed from another planet. Right now, with my bald head, I do actually look like an alien so I rather resented that expression but forgave him as soon as I heard his response.
    "Well of course you must have an aperitif to stimulate the appetite and then once the appetite is stimulated you must have another glass with your meal."
    Obviously to get the full benefit you have to imagine this said in French accompanied by the gorgeous Gaelic shrug.
    So what is this wonder drink I speak of? It is of course - as the title suggests - Baileys.
It's creamy, it's comforting, it soothes and settles the stomach and I have become addicted. 
     I am reliably informed by my niece that there is a cocktail involving Baileys & Cointreau which is called an 'Orgasm.' I think this may be step too far. I'll just settle for the warm glow in the stomach that precedes a climax.
    And the marvellous thing is that you can have a drop any time of the day or night. I find a splash in my early morning coffee works wonders. As I tend to get up early these days my morning coffee (after the dull but obligatory green tea) is often around 8.30am. It feels wicked, sinful, naughty and debauched.... and it is! Oh yes, it most certainly is all of these things... and I don't care.
    One of the joys of being ill, and trust me there are not that many, is that sometimes you can do just what the f**k you like!
    I don't know why it is not more widely talked about in cancer circles, or indeed talked about at all. So in may own small way I am going to remedy that... here I go ... I am shouting it from the roof tops like a town crier...
   "Oyez, Oyez, all you cancer sufferers out there, the Irish based creamy concoction most commonly known as Baileys is good for you - you heard it here first."
   Ok so perhaps 'good for you' is stretching it, but it certainly offers solace in times of need. I may even try spreading it on my head  - who knows, it may promote wonderful hair growth and if not then the dog can lick it off.
    So Mr& Mrs Baileys, or anyone connected to the family however tenuously, I hope you are listening because I am singing your praises here and in return I'll take a case of the glorious stuff.
Many thanks,
Janie.
    

e

Hair Today Gone Tomorrow !

I was diagnosed with breast cancer about two and a half months ago.
    I have had the operation to remove the tumour, I am nearly halfway through chemotherapy and yet still it does not feel real.
    I am and always have been incredibly healthy. When I was six I had my tonsils out and thirty years later I had a skiing accident and that's about as bad as it has ever got.
    The words "rude health" have often been used to describe me, other words have been used too but I'm not prepared to share them just yet!

It happened very quickly. One moment I was all singing and dancing and looking forward to a significant birthday and then suddenly, almost without warning, I was sitting on a bed naked from the waist up with my arms locked around the neck of a gorgeous young oncologist called Nicolas.
    I want you to know that I had been deliberately placed int that position, I am not in the habit of throwing myself willy nilly at young doctors no matter how bloody good looking.

The lovely Nicolas examined my left tit with a clinical and detailed precision that was vaguely reminiscent of an unsavoury episode with a bloke called Dave at a rugby cub disco in the early eighties. God I thought I'd got over that.
    Doctor Nicolas finally disentangled my arms arms and his bright blue eyes, filled with kindness and  compassion, gazed into my terrified brown ones. I felt like a deer who, with an uncanny sixth sense turns his head to look directly into the face of the hunter about to pull the trigger.
    Now I have never actually been hunting and far from being the hunter Nicolas was going to save my life, but you get the general idea.

As our eyes locked we shared the briefest of moments, but that was all it took.
     I knew that I had cancer and he knew that I knew. He smiled gently and squeezing my shoulders whispered the words "bon courage" - I live in France, he wasn't being pretentious.

I got dressed slowly and with exaggerated politeness thanked them all - did I forget to mention that there were four consultants altogether in the room with me?

I returned to the waiting room where my husband was pretending to read a magazine.
    One look at my face told him that a very large glass of something very alcoholic was needed as fast as possible for both of us.

What scarf to wear today?

Officially bald as a coot now!

last day of writing course

All students depart today - leaving us saddened.