My diamond ring and my money too Tomorrow night could belong to you. The girls move me at their will. I live the life I love and I love the life I live

And the words of Muddy Waters really sum up my feelings at the moment with just five sandblasting days to go (And thanks Tam. Happy badgering). Things are going well. Life is good.

Except, for my most embarrassing moment yet. Given that for the last six weeks I’ve been writing about my (temporary) erectile dysfunction (they write it in italics in the books and then tell you not to worry about it!) this was the ultimate.

All you do for the sandblasting is simply to take your trousers and shoes off. Imagine my shame when I removed my shoes only to discover a big hole in my left sock! I immediately apologised, only for the gorgeous, pouting lady radiotherapist to say, “My little boy’s the same. Put clean clothes on him and thirty minutes later they’re a mess.” That was me put in my place.

Plus, foolishly, I usually tend to throw the whole pair out when something like that happens but I have now bought some new black socks, with coloured toes and heels, so they stay as pairs. (Y’see, C and Laura F, these are the kinds of simple ideas supermarkets are crying out for…just in case!)

There will be more about the sandblasting in the next two editions, and to those of you worried that the blog might come to an end at the end of next week, it will continue well into the Summer. Nothing worse than premature speculation, is there guys?

So away from the centre and back to Glasgow Metropolitan College where I used to teach (?).

First, the brilliant view from the thirteenth floor (and yes, media studies students, it’s a view, not a visual! You don’t climb up to the top of Ben Lomond and “generally” say it’s a cracking “visual”, do you? So don’t. It’s a view.)

However, to the not so brilliant view from a male member of staff who asked when my treatment was due to start as I still had a full head of hair. There are so many crass ignorances in that question and so much awareness still needed. However, to those of you who know where the prostate is actually located and are now wondering a similar question……the answer stays between me and the sandblasting chamber and those who inhabit it… for the moment.

And one more small point from my visit. The Gents on the second floor are environmentally friendly in that a light sensor kicks in as soon as you walk in. The sensor also kicks out if there is no movement after a certain time. Some of us are (temporarily) taking a little longer than we really want to and it’s no joke to find yourself suddenly “whistling in the dark”, know what I mean? 

Mind you that song, itself, does bring back good memories, apart from the slightly soft cheesecake that night. Sorry, ladies. Maybe try again later in the year, that’s all I’m saying!

And I met the real smiley Carol for lunch on Friday. Long time, no see, but the hugs were worth it! However my attempt to impress, in a well known Glasgow hostelry, by saying, “I’ll just have the lasagne as usual”, was met with “We changed the menu six months ago.” However, Carol, has now finally come out of my wardrobe to become a future hairdresser, a real highlight of my week. (Ash blonde and sunny blonde since you ask)

And speaking of beautiful women…..I didn’t make it to the wedding of the year last night but the wee man at the Hotel Reception told me just now that it a was brilliant night, that you, e, looked gorgeous, your nails were immaculate (Okay. I made a point of asking about them) and that you’d just left for the airport. I think he’d have called you back if I’d wanted but I felt that was enough information and I’m sure there was a breadstick still there with my name on it.

And finally, to my son Brian, my good friend Claire (sorry you got the vowels gag over the last few weeks but you’ll be pleased to know that’s all settled), to G, G and the T1, and every other student I know, of all ages, including so many of my neighbours, who finish exams and projects and stuff (hopefully) this week, Friday’s not that far way for you and me. You all go out on Friday night and get wasted. Me? I’ll put extra tabasco sauce in my tomato juice, but, hey, I will feel like I’m celebrating. 




2 Responses to “My diamond ring and my money too Tomorrow night could belong to you. The girls move me at their will. I live the life I love and I love the life I live”

  1. Kev G Says:

    Hey JT,
    Wow…hard to believe the treatment is coming to an end. For us it seems to have flown by, for you probably not so much.

    On my first ever comment to you I said I was unsure of the appropriate social protocol for wishing you well with cancer treatment. Same goes for the treatment ending. If congratulations are appropriate then consider them given.

    Oh, and did you know that Tomato juice and Tabasco sauce is called a Bloody Useless Mary?

  2. Johnt850 Says:

    For me, it’s flown in ‘cos of the brill people down the sandblasting centre and those who operate the sandblasters. Due thanks to them in special edition of the blog this weekend when my cover gets blown.
    But also due thanks to you and my gd frnd clr for all yr help as editorial advisers but the work has just started!!!!!

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