Discharged

Five years.
Five years on from my melanoma, and I've had my last all-clear and been officially ex-communicated from Dermy-tology. And, boy, what a relief. Honestly, I knew it was coming coz other than fresh wrinkles deeper than my husband's pockets, and pores so large you can see them from the Curiosity rover on Mars, I haven't had much in the way of scariness on my skin.
The only scarey growth  (because I had my lymph glands removed) is my left ankle, now named Penn...

 

 

(It's the rug under my legs that's hairy. Honestly.)

 

In fairness, I've been let off pretty lightly. My legs would never have won a competition before, and they don't swell up that much. And it's not as if I'd be showing them off in our Scottish climate anyway.

 

So to summarise - I'm feeling pretty darn delighted.

Cautious optimism

I'm still at it! Kind of.

At my first jog a couple of weeks ago, my instructor suggested an early morning bootcamp for 'only' two thousand weeks, (that's what it felt like) and as an incentive, whoever lost the most weight/inches won six months fitness membership.
And of course I thought I'm mega-motivated and sure I'll easily lose a stone in that fortnight, and win the membership and all the more help for losing these michelin tyres. And that's how it all started off.
At half past five, my alarm would go off and hubby would still have to cajole me out of the bed, so I'd roll out, throw on my body shaping pants with 'tenor' ladies, jogging bottoms, two bras, and much-too-small tee-shirt and make my way to the arena of doom.
Believe it or not, I actually enjoyed the circuit training, where if a really tortuous exercise came up, you knew it would only last a minute. Though school memories came flooding back at the end of each session, when I was the very last picked for the team because of my inevitable failures on the pitch.
Two days before the last session, I weighed myself and I had lost ten pounds! Delighted.
But then it all went tits up.
We had friends staying and we all visited Glasgow for the day, and they decided we should have McDonalds for lunch. Well, I didn't want to be a spoilsport so I joined in. But then things got worse. They decided to take us out for tea with their vouchers for Pizza Express. And that was the ruination of my best laid plans.
So on the last morning, I slept in, my whole body ached and the early morning midge bites on my arms from previous boot camps had made my arms scratching posts, so when hubby suggested I didn't have to go to bootcamp that morning, I leapt or should I say slept at the chance. When I got up and weighed myself, I had put on four pounds overnight! Not happy.

I am still jogging though except for Saturday morning jogs which have been replaced by teaching rugrats how to torture their mammies and daddies by skreaching a bow across fiddle strings and my shares in earplug manufacturers have quadrupled in value in only four days.

But that's another story for another time.

Will write again soon.

I've started!

Ok. Hands up. I've been a little bit complacent with updating the blog. Partly due to holidays (us going somewhere and cousins coming here) and partly because I am embarrassed to say I haven't been doing any jogging except for today. Yes. Today. This morning I officially started with the Jolly Joggers. Yay! (Trumpet fanfare) And how do I feel now? Ecstatic for starting? Smug at managing a three mile jog/walk on my first go in two years? No, unfortunately. I'm killed with the tiredness and absolutely useless for doing anything. And for some strange reason, my fingers have swollen up like inflatable dingys. Very strange. However, at least I've started, and to quote D:ream vernacular - 'Things can only get better.'

Told you I was ill...

I'm on the computer because the old nerves are killing me - I just can't watch Murray in the final - too scared of jinxing him - so I'm taking it out on my blog.
After a few weeks feeling lethargic and with various egg sized lumps disappearing and reappearing, I went to the doctor, and I'm delighted to say I've got glandular fever! Yes, I've got a great excuse for my not jogging, well I believe probably good enough, and thankfully nothing worse.
Despite all this however, I have been swimming and hill-climbing up in the north of Scotland last week on holiday, enjoying the sunshine (yes - we did have a few days of it) and chillaxing with hubby and the cub.
Back to the writing now with a vengeance though, so I'll sign off, and take a wee peek at Murray's progress before I air my notebook.

Review - Electric Man Movie

This is a fast-paced comedy about the race for possession of a valuable first-edition comic. For officianados of Scottish Film, it reminded me a little of Restless Natives with some Local Hero moments. Some of the twists in the plot, stunts and camera work were superb, with some real laugh-out-loud guffaws, and the fact it wasn't over-produced made it refreshingly real. It isn't trying to be Hollywood, just some good fun escapism.
Go, see and enjoy.

Book Review - Are We Nearly There Yet?

Ben Hatch had me in kinks giggling at the escapades of his endearing children, feeling sorry for his wife, Dinah, roaring 'Wha?' at his experiments with a toothbrush, and the tears were genuinely tripping me with his accounts of his Dad's bravery and humour in the last few weeks of his life.
The memoirs were of his five month journey around the UK in the pursuit of a Frommers travel guide.
My favorite bit? Ben scaring Dinah in Craster Tower. I can chuckle because I've been there and I felt I was in the car with them experiencing every laugh, 'smell', and bump.
I haven't read a travel memoir in years - the last one being 'McCarthy's Bar' - and this is up there as one of the funniest and most reflective memoirs I have ever read.
.

Excuses?

I've got good news and bad news. The bad news is I've been floored with some type of dastardly virus for the past week and a half, and the good news is my lack of appetite has helped me lose half a stone! I let out a little 'yeah' when I stepped on the scales and saw my weight was below the 'benchmark' where it has been hovering for the past year. I don't know if I should try jogging tonight - it will either sweat the last of this lethargy out of my system or kill me altogether, though I don't much fancy the prospect of the latter.
And as if I didn't need any more salt rubbed, I've also had two short story rejections. Mind you, I only wrote them for the money, so perhaps my opinion of them being sentimental 'shite' has been reflected in the fiction editor's decision too.
As for the novel, I have written a tiny bit more, until the pain in my back got too much. I think I need my daily dose of guffawing with a good old-fashioned humorous novel!

Dom Dom Dom

Ok. So here's one of my pieces (someone told me I was really evil writing this) . You know in the likes of Eastenders they have the cliff hanger before the 'Dom Dom Dom's, well, here is a little bitesize of something I'd like to watch, har, har, har (stroking cat);

Tom: This has been the happiest day of my life, my beautiful bride.

Samantha: I know we haven’t known each other long, but we are so right for each other.

Tom: And tonight is going to be so special, especially as we have been saving ourselves

Samantha: Tom, I’ve got something to tell you. I’ve a lump in my throat.

Tom: I’ve a lump in my throat too, Dear. It’s all so emotional.

Samantha: What I mean is, I’ve a real, proper lump in my throat.

Tom: Really? You poor thing! Don’t worry, we’ll get through this together. I’ll always be there for you… Is it malignant?

Samantha: (Removing silk scarf) No. It’s an Adams Apple.

DOM DOM DOM…



I know I shouldn't stretch ahead of myself (overly ambitious!), but I thought this picture might be an idea for the cover of the novel. The only thing is, I'm hoping people will laugh at the contents, and there's nothing in this picture that says 'funny'. Maybe I'm being too pernickerty?

What do you think?

Introduction

Five years ago I embarrassingly rolled up my trouser leg to reveal my very hairy leg for a photo. Little did I know at the time, this was going to be the end of my jogging for a while. I had put my ever shortening jogging breath down to my ever increasing pregnant belly, and wasn't expecting the prognosis I received two weeks later. The nuisance 'blood blister' diagnosed by my GP just a few weeks earlier had turned into a malignant melanoma.

They say inside every fat woman there's a thin woman wanting to get out, well, acquiring an additional eight stone since, I've calculated I've got Posh Spice plus two toddlers inside me.

And it's not like I haven't tried to lose the weight. I attempted jogging again but didn't lose weight - chocolate consumption ratio saw to that - I've been to weight watchers, got those 'oops' tablets from the doctor, got additional 'swell-inside-your-belly' tablets, and also even at eighteen stone the doctor told me I wasn't heavy enough for gastric band surgery!

More recently I went for hypnotherapy (virtual gastric band) but tried hard not to giggle at the 'you are feeling sleepy' part.

So here I am five years on desperately needing to lose the weight.

It doesn't help that I'm currently trying out the sedentary role of writing, or re-writing for that matter while attempting to be a full-time mum. I wrote a novel a couple of years ago, and sent it out to three agents. Two rejected it outright, and the third wrote back with a lovely rejection letter and excellent advice. And I'm determined to get this book finished as soon as possible.

So now I have an optimistic plan. I'm going to try the jogging again (my friend misheard me and thought I said 'dogging') the doctor has told me I'm not about to keel over with a heart attack, and we have a local Jog Scotland group starting up, and I want to have a photo of myself to be proud of on the inside cover of my book when (fingers crossed) it gets published.

So, does anyone want to join me for the ride?