Random catchup with Hastings Battleaxe

How is it that I am always at least a week behind in Battleaxe-world?  Once and for all, let’s try and catch up. This is pretty random. A genetic test at Guy’s Hospital last week was probably the biggest thing so I’ll spend the most time on that… then a quick whip round various other outings etc… Anyway, for  a suitably random start, here is a sparrow-hawk in our garden on a very windy day last weekend.

 

What a lovely bird. Working at Mallydams has made me even more aware of wild creatures than I was before… and the work is going well, by the way. Am now getting to be quite an experienced hand. I hope I’m good enough at the work… I do make the occasional boo-boo but then everyone does. On Tuesday I was asked to go and feed magpies in some isolated aviary in the wood- squidged through what seemed to be a lifetime of mud and couldn’t see any birds when I got there – to cut a long story short one of the staff members also had to go squidging up there and of course the bloody birds were in there all the time, hiding… They have now ratcheted up the bird-flu status at the centre so we have to walk through foot-baths all the time. Anyway, here is a swan I cared for a couple of weeks ago. He is looking a bit fed up because I have just emptied his pool. Swans are very messy creatures… He has now been released back to Rye Harbour where he came from. Look what big feet he has.

So what is this genetic testing business? Well, Battleaxe readers may be aware that during my life I have had various cancerous episodes – both breasts, in 1988 and 2014, and ovarian in 2010. All were caught at a sufficiently early stage to mean that bits could be removed with no follow-up treatment, and touch wood, no recurrence. Here is a post from the most recent episode, my stay in the Conquest Hospital in 2014. Gosh, ten years ago… I was in there for about 9 days because Miss Shah, the surgeon, wanted to try out an experimental technique on me… Anyway, given that my poor sister died of ovarian cancer, about a year ago I was referred for a genetic test to see if I could be carrying one of those BRCA gene mutations which means that both me and my relatives are more susceptible to various forms of cancer.  I won’t bore you with the saga of changed appointment times, uncancellable Premier Inn hotel rooms etc., suffice it to say that last week I ended up heading for London on the 6.45am train from Hastings for a 9.00am appointment. Being retired, one so easily forgets the grief of getting up and catching early trains to work… Anyway, Guy’s is right by London Bridge station, so no trouble finding where I was supposed to go.

The geneticist I saw, Dr Izatt, was an incredibly pleasant and well-informed woman. I think she was the first medical professional I have ever talked to who was simultaneously totally straight and matter-of-fact about my medical history while also being positive and supportive. She was so kind it made me feel quite tearful. After talking to her, I realise that when I say above that ‘Battleaxe readers may be aware,’ no, they quite probably are not. The whole idea of cancer is still hidden in a morass of uncomfortable feelings – for me, it was/is hard to tell people what happened to me because many folk react with fear, avoidance, embarrassment or worst of all, cloying sympathy, and mouthing well-intentioned platitudes about the ‘fight’.  Cancer is not a matter of fighting. It just is. It has to be endured. Anyway, I won’t get the results of the test for a couple of months. She reckoned my risk of gene mutation was quite low, because the particular type of ovarian cancer I had (mucoid) is not linked to the same gene pattern, and was/is readily caught early and contained. The risk of dodgy mutation is still there though. She said that for me personally, there is no issue – I have had all the bits removed which could present a danger, but of course there are my relatives to consider…

She also said that I had done well in keeping tests up-to-date, acting promptly on symptoms/funny test results and being proactive about getting the treatment from the NHS I felt was right for me. These days, if caught early enough, most cancers are treatable… sure, a few are misdiagnosed or are very difficult to spot, like ovarian and pancreatic cancer, and that is bad, but most cases are not like that…

Oh enough of that.  Here are some enormous waves on Hastings Beach. last Sunday, Storm something-or-other. The tide was right up so it made the waves look even more spectacular.

You may be wondering about Battleaxe the novelist – a few weeks ago I was like a dog with two tails because an agent had been so positive about my work, but I have not mentioned it since. Well, last week, I had a message from the agent to say that she hadn’t even read my manuscript yet! So, the saga rumbles on… I suppose it is positive because I had almost decided that she had decided no but delayed telling me.

Have done lots of other things – another London trip, lunches with friends, a chalk-painting workshop, a novel-writing group at my house and last night, a Hastings Philharmonic concert at the White Rock. It included the Grieg Piano Concerto played by Shunto Morimoto. I said to Philosopher that however often you hear that piece, it is always great – and the lad, one of the winners of the Piano Concerto Competition, played it brilliantly. I was remembering how I had a lovely set of old 78 rpm records with some classic pianist and conductor (I think it was Rubinstein/Eugene Ormandy) when I lived in a London flat, and one of my flatmate’s boyfriends put the discs on a storage heater… boy, was I livid.