Reflections

I look at my blog sometimes because there's something there I'd like to refer to, such as a cancer story, or something to do with work, or just because I'm prompted by a memory. My blog is really my public online diary. But that's OK, I know very few people read it, but it will be here for my family in the future, and for anyone who is casually browsing and finds one of my stories or posts on one subject or another.

I was looking through my cancer posts as there was news in the Telegraph that smear tests may be less invasive in future. Oddly enough, I had my latest test recently, because I had some HPV cells in my last one so instead of falling off the test list, I'm staying on for a while. Thankfully, all clear this time.

I wanted to share with colleagues how important it is to attend these tests, as uncomfortable as they may be. They really could mean the difference between life and death, or life and a more invasive treatment regime that would make the smear test pale into insignificance. By invasive I mean things like surgery, chemotherapy, radiotherapy. Catch it early, and you are likely to have a better cancer journey than many.

My cousin's cancer is back, but he is very stoic and - whilst having treatment - is fundraising for CRUK. He is confident that it will be kept under control - and he kept up his tests, so it was spotted early. I have had another colonoscopy because I had some abdominal pains, but they were clear. Yes, the colonoscopy was definitely 'not fun', and the results were negative, but I'm glad I went through it instead of leaving it to chance, and also letting the thought - and that can be almost as destructive as disease - continue to nag at me.

 The old mine, Adelong (C) 

Are you worried? Do you have something that doesn't feel right? Get it checked! Don't worry about your GP's time, that's what they are there for (and they'd rather treat you sooner too if there is any need). Are you worried it might be something, or nothing? Well something is a hell of a lot more worrying than nothing, so go get that check, and eliminate the uncertainty. You and your family will benefit from positive action, I promise.

But back to reflections, as well as looking back on my cancer journey (and Sheena's), I also read one of my posts about my visit to Malaysia and Borneo - and that's a memory I treasure. I wish I could go back and visit Baku forest again and see the proboscis monkeys, or cross the river in Kuching to taste one of those impossibly bright cakes they sell, or see a langur in the wild again. But, I did those things - how lucky am I? 

Look after you, as well as those around you. Follow up on those tests, anything that doesn't feel right. Check it out. 

Useful links:

• Invasive smear tests may become a thing of the past
• CoppaFeel! | Check Your Chest | Breast Cancer Awareness Charity
• CHAPS - Home  - prostate cancer support
• Prostate Cancer UK | Prostate Cancer UK

Liked this? Try...

• Being in Malaysia
• The City of Cats
• Adelong morning

An unusual childhood

I've written a bit before about the different childhood I had, but not in much detail (see Liked this? below). I could probably write a book, but instead here's a short poem. One thing my mother talks a lot about (she's 92 now) is regret. She can't undo the past, and there were so many good things, different things, that I learned that I would never have done without that childhood. I know how fabric should hang, and whether it is right for the period, for example.  The world of CGI has changed costumery for the cinema, certainly, but theatre still relies on a lot of craft. My mother was certainly a very talented craftsperson.

Growing up

Samco, acetone, buckram, calico

Pearl glue, foam rubber, plaster, fur fabric

Mother much too busy, for the small child

 

Giant moth, Sontaran, Mutant, Cyberman*

Pepper pot, Cuckoo, giant flies, tutus

Comedians and actors, smile at the small child.

 

Plum pudding, ballet masks, feather boas, jock straps

David Wood, Gyles of course, Raymond Briggs, dinosaurs

Directors and dancers, not noticing the small child

 

Peter Rabbit, Whatamess, Gladiator, Fungus

Marty Feldman, Mickey Dolenz, Morecambe and Wise

Placido bumped into, by the small child

 

Coliseum, D’Oyly Carte, Drury Lane and Shaftesbury

Rooms of feathers, rooms of foam, rooms of fabric off the loom

A curious playground, for the small child

 

Hats, masks, monsters, jewellery, designs

Costumes, sequins, Jesus Christ’s crown

All distractions for the young child

 

Working on Christmas day, working on holidays

Pins and needles in the chair arm; pricked fingers

A normal day for the wheezing child

 

Clay, there was a lot of clay! The picture above shows Gyles and my mother - he is posing for the Dilly the Dinosaur costume she made him for a book publisher's promotional tour.

Liked this? Try...

• Danny La Rue
• Muppets
• Dr Who

References:

• Dr Who monsters *Sally made the Minoptera, the Solonians, and parts of the Sontarans, the Gell Guards, and bits of Cybermen and other costumes/props.
• Placido Domingo I bumped into him at the Royal Opera House, when he was in Girl of the Golden West

Photo credit: BBC TV. 

Binary bigotry

Binary bigotry is a term I have coined because of the ‘unthinking’ likes and shares in social media of hateful memes. I have seen several social media posts (shared by people I know) that use direct comparisons to create an emotive response to promote racism and bigotry.

I’ll give you an example; a picture of a homeless white man, and a picture of a crowded boat full of migrants, with a caption on the lines of ‘Put our veterans before illegal immigrants’. Or similarly, a comparison with our elderly community and the loss of heating benefit and immigrants claiming UK benefits[1].

Not everything is black and white

These are not realistic comparisons; these memes are created purely to promote a racist point of view and, by using simple binary comparisons, they get shared because the ‘choice’ is put clearly. But that’s not the real choice. I’ll use my own example:

Would you rather pay a £300 winter heating allowance to a millionaire pensioner[2] than provide basic food and housing to someone who was beaten and tortured in their home country and risked their life to reach the UK to escape certain death? Or even, do you think we should be paying £16,000 a week to look after an excluded child ‘criminal’[3], or pay for more teachers in our primary schools?

It’s all about perspective. I would no more use the above comparisons – the ‘binary’ choices – than I would the former. Binary bigotry is clever, it uses emotive subjects to create a sense of injustice and promote a strong, often racist, response.

Binary bigotry lumps huge groups of individuals into one 'identifiable' category. Those seeking asylum legally, homeless, veteran, elderly, it doesn't matter - they are collected into a single meme and there is no room for nuance.

I would love social media to show more balanced, informed content, but – probably like this article – it doesn’t have the impact that such binary bigotry can engender. Any kind of binary thinking can be limiting[4], and that - in my opinion – is very sad. But saddest of all is the willingness of people to share unthinking hate. 

I have put several references in this article – please read them, I am no psychology or political expert, I do not have the answers, I just want to highlight the danger of this simplistic form of hate promotion.

Please note: This article represents my personal experiences and opinion and does not relate to my professional life, the position of my employer or any of my connections.

Picture credit: me

#notabystander

References:

[1] How much do asylum seekers living in hotels get to live on per week? – Full Fact

[2] Golden oldies: Are one in five pensioners millionaires? – Full Fact

[3] Unlawful care homes ‘profiteering’ from at-risk children - BBC News

[4] Binary Thinking and the Limiting of Human Potential: Public Integrity: Vol 23 , No 6 - Get Access (tandfonline.com)

Where there’s a Will…

Pushing up the daisies

Writing a Will isn’t a one-time event—it's something you'll likely do multiple times throughout your life, for different reasons. The first time I wrote a Will was when my husband and I bought our first home. Although I’m no longer a property owner, I still have possessions and, more importantly, specific wishes about what happens when I die.

Major life events like buying a house or starting a family are natural times to write or update a Will. I did just that when I had children. Later, when I left my home and began a new chapter on my own, I updated my Will again. Then, life took another turn—happily, I remarried. But did you know that getting married can automatically invalidate a previous Will? I didn’t, so yes, I had to draft yet another one.

The truth is, you don’t need to be old or unwell to make a Will. You just need to be an adult with a clear idea of how you want your affairs handled after you're gone.

Bought the farm

I used to assume that when I died, everything would automatically go to my spouse. [But for those who aren’t married or in a civil partnership, that’s not the case for your partner.] And if you’re separated but not yet divorced, you might still need to update your Will if you don’t want your ex to inherit everything. Financial separation is another thing to consider—I discovered I was still listed on my ex-husband's bank account eight years after our divorce! This meant I could have been liable if he had any
debts, which was quite a shock.

Thankfully, creating a new Will was straightforward. I used the Free Will service from Mental Health UK (MHUK). The process was simple: I filled out a form, detailed my wishes for my estate, and ensured that even my modest assets, like savings, pensions, and life insurance, would be distributed according to my desires. Just to check everything over I then had a call from their solicitor – I didn’t need to go into their office, but you can do it all in person if you prefer.

You don’t need to own a house or have millions in the bank to make a Will—everyone should have one, if only to make sure that your prized possessions, like my bass guitar, end up in the right hands.

Speaking of debts, I’m fortunate not to have any, not even a mortgage. But it's important to note that your debts don’t disappear when you die. A Will can help protect some of your assets from being sold off to pay debts and, more importantly, ease the burden on those left behind.

Whether or not I have a funeral is up to me, but I plan to consult my family about it. My Will includes my wishes: I’d like to be cremated, and I want my friends and family to throw a party—a celebration rather than a time of mourning.

I know many people find it difficult to talk about death, but like taxes and change, it’s inevitable. I’d rather discuss my options now and make my wishes clear in my Will. It’s practical planning, and it can even be tax efficient. Let’s face it, I won’t care once I’m dead, so being thoughtful now is the best I can do.

Kick the bucket

Writing a Will is easy and straightforward. I’ve used MHUK’s Free Will service, and I’ve left a gift to them in my Will. In my case, it’s a pecuniary gift, meaning a specific sum of money. But you can also leave items, like cars, books or, or a percentage of your estate, known as a residuary gift (a percentage of what’s left over after costs, like funerals and debts etc). You can have more than one charity in your Will if you want, but I chose MHUK because it’s a charity I care about. Most charities offer a Free Will writing service - so select the cause you care about and contact them. After family and friends are considered, leaving a gift that will help others is important to me. I encourage you to do the same.

If you haven’t made your Will yet, I strongly suggest you do. The peace of mind it brings to you and your loved ones is invaluable.

Photo copyrights:

• Daisies: FreeImages.com
• Farm: sunderlands.co.uk
• Bucket: Dailystar.co.uk

Useful links:

• Mental Health UK - gifts in Wills
• Rethink Mental Illness - gifts in Wills
• The Law Society - making a Will

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• Mental health
• Long-lived memories
• Tales from a fundraiser

Mental health

Quite a few of my posts cover health, and a few have covered mental health, but I've certainly not talked about depression, for example, as much as I have talked about cancer (links to my mental health related posts below).

Why? Because of stigma, because it is an admission of weakness, because I want to present my 'perfect self' online? Well you know the latter isn't true if you have read my blog in the past.

From about 1998 to 2001 I had clinical depression. It was an awful time, I had two small children and a demanding job and inside I felt completely useless, worthless and kept being told by my other half at the time that 'the problem is there is no problem'. Wow, that was helpful.

I sought help, I got anti depressants. I distinctly remember on day 16 of taking the pills, whilst riding my bike in Cambridge, I suddenly felt like a weight had been lifted from me. The tablets worked! I treated the symptoms, but not the cause. I managed fine - still felt low now and then, but I had two amazing kids and a great job, I kept up with karate, and things were on an even keel.

Around 2007 my marriage started to deteriorate, but by 2012 I was in a very dark place once again, and no drugs, or talking therapy would help. My husband would come home and tell me he was disappointed that his new partner (that's a whole other story) was not being faithful. There's a bit of irony there, no? We were still living together, but I had moved into the tiny spare room onto a put up bed. I contemplated the unbearability of the pain (which I remember as physical, not just mental). But I had two children, who were the one clear perspective in my life at the time. 

To help manage my stress I would go swimming. Just up and down, no thoughts, just moving in the water. It was about the only therapy that helped. I'd been to see Relate on my own early on, and being told that what was being said to me, how my husband treated me was 'mental abuse' was a shock. I didn't realise, didn't recognise, that the person I then loved (unloving takes time) was actually causing me such physical and emotional pain. They put a label on it (abuse). I hadn't wanted to. 

One day when at swimming, I texted my husband that I'd had enough, we had to split - move apart. I couldn't take it any more. When I got home, he said 'I got your message. I thought you'd gone to kill yourself'. That was another mighty shock. Because if that's what he'd thought, why didn't he stop me? That remains a resentment I find hard to forget, though the many other things that were said and done have been comfortably forgotten. Holding on to pain or anger only hurts me, so I don't do it. 

But this story does have a happy ending. No need for detail for the years in between, but I did attend a course by Richard Wilkins called 'Broadband Consciousness'. And that really helped me change my attitude to myself. Richard describes happiness as being like a tide - sometimes it's in, sometimes it's out, it's not a static state of being. For me mental health is like physical health - sometimes it's good, sometimes I get ill, and do what I can to get better, or manage symptoms, so I can lead a fulfilled life and be there for those I love.

But here's the happy ending - because the critical change was that I managed to alter my self-perception. The five days with Richard, Liz and the others gave me the knowledge to understand and challenge that inner voice (which was echo chambering years of undermining). I started to like who I am. 

In 2018 I met my amazing wife and in 2021 we got married. The tide is in.

Liked this? try...

• Resilience
• Kindness is a strength
• Get well soon - this blog from 2017 includes a link to the charity I now work for. 

Resources:

• Mental Health UK
• Rethink Mental Illness  
• Samaritans
• Mind
• The Ministry of Inspiration - Richard Wilkins and Liz Ivory
• I have a black dog (video on depression)

What a year that was

When I was 13 years old, my father died of a heart attack. Widowed at 44 with two children, my mother found it very difficult to cope and had regular melt downs. I didn’t really know what to do to help her. My 17-year-old brother left home within the year, and I had to become an adult rapidly. I became more introvert at school and depressed for several years. I still miss him today, but I learned to cope and to grieve, over time.

I am writing about this now because trauma, such as the loss of a parent, has a huge mental health impact on children and young adults. In my family we had no warning that my father was going to die so suddenly (if it had happened today, he would have had a much greater chance of survival). But for many families there is notice of bereavement; a terminal diagnosis is not going to truly prepare you, but you are forewarned.

I have spent the last year working with a charity whose services focus on pre-bereavement – that vital support you need to prepare for the death of a parent. Anecdotally and from published research, the impact of a parent’s death on children is life-long. So the better this can be handled, the more open and honest you are, and the more you can help prepare the children for the inevitable, then you can reduce emotional lifetime impact. There is nothing you can do to change the fact that the children will grow up without that parent, but open discussions can be a way to connect and navigate those tough emotions together, and find comfort in planning for the future. 

The charity I worked for was established by Sir Andrew Strauss, a cricketer who lost his wife to a non-smoking lung cancer. If you present at your GP with chest or shoulder pain, or some symptoms that can’t be explained and you say you don’t smoke, lung cancer isn’t often looked for. So, when it is finally diagnosed, it’s often too late as in Andrew’s wife, Ruth’s case. This is the second focus for the charity, to raise awareness and improve early diagnosis which will, quite simply, save more lives.

As ever it’s the people that will leave a lasting impression. The fantastic team I’ve worked with, the dedicated donors, fundraisers and supporters - lending their commercial advice, volunteering or donating, or giving of their personal time outside a celebrity or sports career.

I’ve enjoyed working with the cricket world and the dedicated team at Ruth Strauss Foundation (including the Board and Advisors) and learned about non-smoking lung cancer and pre-bereavement. I’ve expanded my experience in more fundraising areas, and discovered I know a lot more about governance than I realised.

I usually like to add a witty anecdote, but this is a serious subject. Yes, there have been some moments (and I’ve collected a few selfies as well), but mostly it’s been immensely rewarding work.

I do love working in this sector.  I look forward to seeing the charity develop and expand – helping more families, supporting more children who are facing the unthinkable, and saving more lives as diagnosis and care is improved for a cancer whose incidence is increasing rapidly.

So long, and thanks for all the … cricket.  

Useful links

• Ruth Strauss Foundation - pre-bereavement support
• Ruth Strauss Foundation - non-smoking lung cancer information

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• Growing around grief
• 62 not out
• Still learning

Crossing borders

Turtle Dove (C)  

Up until recently, my wife and I lived in Suffolk down a forest track. Our garden was host to deer, rabbit, toads, butterflies, frogs, voles, mice, the odd hedgehog, and snakes. Last year I saw a beautiful three-foot-long grass snake in our pond; the biggest snake I’ve ever seen that wasn’t in captivity.  We had lots of birds in our garden including siskin and, occasionally, Turtle Doves. Whilst doing the ‘Big Garden Birdwatch’ one year I was disappointed that I couldn’t record ‘peacock’. But he was a bit of a nuisance and loved to tease the dogs, standing on the shed roof ‘barking’ at them – seeming to enjoy their inability to reach him. 

When the UK economy decided that extremely high interest rates and impossible mortgages and rents were the way to go, we had no option but to move.  

We had to leave our beloved garden behind and moved ‘over the border’ into Norfolk. We’re still fairly rural, but we can now hear traffic, and neighbours, which we rarely heard before. I’m not saying it was quiet in the forest – the muntjacs barking, the foxes grumbling, the owls and randy hedgehogs created a cacophony some evenings. But then the harsh night sounds would be sprinkled with the song of the nightingale – as sparkling as the stars of the milky way that would lie like a cloud above us.

Long Tailed Tit (C)

So here we are in Norfolk, and we have a new environment to explore. There’s a field next to us and I am sure it will have some stories to share over the coming months. We are building a pond and filling the bird feeder which has already been visited by goldfinch and greenfinch (and a family of mice). Our garden is small in comparison to what we had, but we can make it our own and transform it from a mostly green and brown blank canvas – a new challenge. We also have ducks who visit and have taken on the peacock’s mantle of dog teasing.

As well as new wildlife, we have a new Landlord. He and his father still require access via our house to the field next door and one afternoon I came out to find my landlord’s father (who is nearly 90) in his daughter’s car – stuck. He couldn’t get the automatic out of Park to go through the gates and up to the field. We both tried, and failed, so he decided to go and ask a neighbour for help. In the meantime, I figured out how to get it going, and moved it in from the automatic gates that we had to keep pressing the button for to stop them closing mercilessly on the car. Everyone then arrived at once, my wife, the neighbour and the driver, so we all had tea and a good chat in the kitchen. The East Anglians (I was born in London, it’s not my fault!) discussed local landed gentry and ‘country pursuits’.

My wife drives to Beccles for her work, so it’s not too bad. I have to drive further to see my mother in Southwold (92 and still going strong), but my London commute is definitely a little more challenging. But we are looking forward to our future here, and we need to do more exploring!

Useful links:

• Operation Turtle Dove
• Belton With Browston
• Dunwich  

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• From May to June
• Pond Life

Long-lived memories

I've posted before about my mum being a costumier - and the odd things she's made over the years. For a while she worked for a publisher producing costumes to go with book tours; these included Raymond Briggs' Snowman, Fungus the Bogeyman, Peter Rabbit and Dilly the Dinosaur to name but a few. She also made a costume for Postman Pat and a buffalo (took two people for that costume) for a carpet company. She made ballet costumes, hats for Paul Revere bar (well, the girls didn't wear much else), and of course multiple theatrical millinery for ballet, opera, muscials (the crown of thorns for Jesus Christ Super Star), a crocodile for Peter Pan (there where wheels underneath so the costume wearer could scuttle about on stage) and something for Mickey Dolenz (who I met), but I can't remember what.

Thanks to the BBC

 She is now 92 and trying to record her days at Stratford with Gielgud and Leigh, and the many other individuals who became famous, is a challenge. Her memory is is - of course - not as good as it was, but certain things will trigger memories. And sometimes those memories will live on and pop up where you least expect. For example, I remembered Dilly the Dinosaur as soon as I saw him - on BBC's QI programme last week. I will admit to watching on playback, not live, because my mother let me know excitedly that she'd seen herself on TV. There was Gyles Brandreth and Sally, with Dilly the Dinosaur (head model).

 

Sally enjoying the company of
Freda the Royal Python

Sally used to sculpt the model for the heads of her creations in clay, then make papier mache casts. Sometimes they'd be reinforced or made of a stuff called samco (which needed setting with acetone). She would work with pearl glue, this weird red moulding material for plaster casting, foam rubber, calico,  buckram... all those materials whose names are familiar to me still. She would also make face masks in latex - for example in the 'Many Faces of Steed' she made a plaster cast of Patrick McNee's face and then created a number of replicas for use in the show (one of whom was my dad). She also made some hats for Madame Tussaud's, including Raquel Welch's white leather stetson and King Henry VIII's jewelled hat. The more I write, the more I remember. 

But back to plaster casting faces - I distinctly remember a camp bed in the kitchen with some chap lying on it, with straws up his nose and a face covered in plaster. Of course I have no idea who it was under there. For many years we also had a plaster cast of Marty Feldman's nose - I can't remember why, but I do remember going to Queens Park Rangers' stadium and meeting him when I was very small - and being just a little bit scared!

At 92 my mum is still going to art classes and life drawing even though she has macular degeneration and her sight is failing. She has multiple health issues of course, but she goes shopping in her motorised buggy, lives independently and if very often out when I call because she is so busy. 

Think of how much is online these days - those photos on social media, pictures and documents scanned and shared. The mountain of information on geneaology sites, and of course the fantastic archives of libraries and press media (a search of the Barnet Press will reveal more for Sally I'm sure). You never know what will pop up where, and whether it will be something to smile about (as with Sally, Gyles and Dilly), or something to make you cringe. 

Liked this? Try...

• Dr Who
• Danny la Rue
• Judi Dench

***Update! I emailed Gyles via his website saying how happy Sally was at seeing that photo, and the gentleman replied wishing her happy birthday and saying 'she's the best'. That's one long-lasting impression you made, Sally!***