Chemocal Ali

Hello All!

Stef, this is just brilliant news. But to come over for just one night! I am really am impressed, and to drive all the way, I am truly grateful. I hope your thought processes were not led by a sense of  'better get there quick before he shrivels up'. I bet young Cris has some awful new jokes. Lots of calls from the concerned. Nice to talk to Hilde, and Michelle will be up on friday to help with the cooking. By the way Michelle, here as promised is my homework for the Crejat. Ok, it's not a masterpiece but it is my first painting and the girls like it. I don't like this acryl paint, it doesn't cover and it dries too quickly and it doesn't mix on the canvas.

















Merel will be taking over my classes for at least the first week of the Martian Ray gun and will be presenting my homework. If Venerable Mentor likes it, she can claim the credit, if not she can just say her dad did it and isn't it crap. Death Ray and Chemo starts tomorrow. There is still no word about the removal of my kidney, apparently the man who plans the operations only works part time and isn't in today. When he is in, the doctors are probably free. Chemocal Ali and Doctor Proton have decided to go ahead with their end of things as it were and we all hope that the kidney will stay calm and not explode for a month or two. It seems that it no longer has the pressing urgency it once had. Bernadet has bought a wonderful little present for me. Probably from the late night shopping channel between the kitchen knives and those people developing fantastic bodies by attaching an AA battery powered sticking plaster. Are you careless with your chemicals? Punctual with your pills? Not managing your meds? You need a CHEMO-CHEST. Just remove the bottom tray and swallow the contents. All washed down with Astronoauts Poo.

Anyway, Dr Ali promised that since I was undergoing nuclear attack and chemical warfare every day for six weeks, the doses were reduced. He promised that my hair would not fall out, well, not all of it. My balls may well fall off though.

Not much else to report until tomorrow.





Bye all, love you lots.

Stef and Cris, you have made me so happy!


Later that day. Went for a walk with Merel and The Horse. The lovely Katinka is wise and knows many things that are closed to the hearts of men. Horse sense. I her asked what is happiness. She whispered that happiness would be to paint pictures like Leonardo and Cezanne, to write poems like Auden and Donne, to dance like that great russian dancer whose name escapes her at the moment. But above all, happiness is to have a patch of grass that isn't full of prickles and stinging nettles so could we please cut the philosophy and move a bit further up the road where it is at least partially edible?

Mentioned in despatches. Emma collected her diploma for the Anglia Project last night. This is a european initiative to encourage students towards better English through school trips, exams etc. So that when they go to England they will be able to fully understand why they are being beaten up, hassled, ripped off, insulted and discriminated against. Emma did very well indeed. She reads and writes mostly in English now. Wish I could say the same about my Dutch.
Another noteworthy achievement. Teenagers usually mark their progress through the house with a trail of discarded clothing, and conversations often start with an outheld hand and the dismal feeling that one's wallet may be about to lose volume and weight. Bernadet has been taking time off work for me, and then catching up at night. I am not the houseman I once was and the housework is an added burden. Hire a cleaner I hear you all cry out as one man. At the moment our pensions, salaries and stipends are all pouring into the meters at the hospital car park. Then comes Merel. She will change the sheets, clean the bathroom, learn how to use the vacuum cleaner and the washing machine. And all for FREE.  The Dunkirk Spirit indeed!