"Life may not be the party we hoped for,
but while we`re here we should dance"

Well here I am – back at the Medical Day Unit at the Marsden after a four week break which, as said a couple of times already, followed the wonderful news that there is a good chance that I may still be here in 10 years time. A 94% chance, in fact, once treatment has been completed.

Having completed the four month chemotherapy course, the worst is over, but I now have to start on a daily pill called Arimodex for 5 years. This may or may not produce hot flushes and other menopausal symptoms but if so, these will gradually ease off and acupuncture and medicinal herbs at the Haven can ease the symptoms.

I am also starting a years course of Herceptin, the wonder drug which women went to the Law Courts to fight for, which is administered in a drip once every three weeks. In fact I have just had the first one. It was a doddle compared to chemo though I did get a reaction of flu’ like symptoms – feeling very cold and aching bones which are passing as I write. The first treatment they give you is a higher dose that the rest and I am not expected to react in future.

The nurses are keeping me sitting here for an hour after the one and a half hours drip in case I have an allergic reaction and I have been chatting to some interesting people sitting next to me. The lady having treatment and one friend are from India and her other friend is from Zimbabwe. We have compared notes and all agree that this illness is spiritual in nature and will be beneficial ultimately. To have been presented with the death threat at the beginning and faced it means that I feel I can now face life better. Since I am not so afraid of the ultimate ‘bus terminal’, I am now not so afraid of life and its’ variety of vicissitudes.

The ward is as cheerful as ever. There is a family group around a woman of about 40 who is having her first chemo across the way. They are all chatting and smiling and break into roars of (slightly over the top) laughter every so often. Everybody smiles when you catch their eye (it’s the “look” again!) and the nurses as per usual are angels of patience and good humour in human disguise. Cups of tea and fresh sandwiches have been provided over the lunch hour.

I know a lot of people moan about the National Health Service, but every experience I have had with it has been great.

When I had my first serious bout of clinical depression in 1989, my Holland Park NHS doctor popped in to see me every day with her little dog until I was better and gave me her home phone number to call in case I felt suicidal.

My current practice in Fulham is also first class and will always fit you in if it’s urgent, but otherwise an appointment can be booked within a couple of days.

My darling granddaughter Mia was put into my arms immediately after Aim had given birth to her at the Chelsea and Westminster by wonderful nurses in a clean atmosphere, and here at the Marsden I am receiving prompt and efficient treatment that I have yet to find anything to complain about. In addition this new wonder drug, Herceptin, is costing the NHS £25,000 to give it to me for a year – as a precaution and because it halves the risk of recurrence. Can’t complain much about that!

Anyone from anywhere in the world will receive NHS emergency treatment in UK without question, which is more than you can say for the USA with all it’s wealth, and if you have cancer, heart problems or need knee surgery, then you are probably better off with the National Health than private as they have the most up to date equipment, don’t chuck you out as quick as the private clinics and provide follow up treatments for as long as necessary.

The other factor I worried about when I was privately insured by Blue Cross in the States, is that when Doctors (or lawyers for that matter) are paid huge sums of money for their services, I can’t help wondering about how tempted they might be to go ahead with a borderline reason to operate or to spin out treatment or advice because they might be in need of extra school fees funding. (or am I being cynical – again!!!)

When I slipped a disc in my neck in America which caused me agonising pain for about 3 years, the private surgeon wanted to operate on me but I didn’t agree. Now, years later my back is in excellent shape which might not have been the case if it had been cut about.

This weeks's highlight was a dinner party with a difference for 14 at Ruth and Allan's Coachhouse in Kew. The 'Difference' being the two vicars, Fathers Stuart and Martin, who cooked a superb three course Cordon Blue meal for us! It was their way of raising money for charity and it was great fun to watch them preparing haute cuisine for us in Ruth's kitchen. Ruth Gledhill and Alan Franks both write for the Times. The party consisted of several highly intellectual friends. Writers and poets who were far more educated than I, and I felt fairly out of my depth conversation- wise. I decided that it was a good opportunity to learn something I didn't know and listened and learned (a bit! A lot of it went over my non-university bred head).

To keep my self-esteen afloat I reminded myself that they most probably didn't know how to edit a movie in iDVD or create a new music album complete with original cover, or swap heads on photos in Photoshop! I also contributed the theory that a potential new TV show was presenting itself.

"Two Clerical Cooks"; "Priests for Feasts" "Culinery Clergy"; "Ministry Meals" were suggested, and my favourite "Dog Collar Dinners" and we all had great fun exploring the potential of this notion.

My strength is gradually returning, as is the good weather, and I am looking forward to more hair and my upcoming holiday in Majorca at Chris’s villa where I intend to laze about, soak up the sun and hopefully be restored to my former vitality very soon.