What’s radiotherapy? Well, it’s like being zapped by a nuclear zapping thing (jt850)

And so dear listener, with several years of experience in broadcasting but mostly on the production side, I found myself reduced to that level of description of something which was such a large part of my life for sooooo many months. Indeed I’ve heard better description of things on Children’s TV. 🙂

At which point I’d like to pay tribute to Jayne who wrote the script for a recent episode of Mr Tumble what I happened to see (I’m seeing Killer Clowns everywhere I turn now) in the company of AJ and RJ. I believed every word. And the Garden Centre waits for no-one. 😉

Anyway, I’d got the call in the morning. John Ross Beattie, as he now calls himself, wanted me to take part in his prog following the good news that morning about cancer results – news which I had not heard but that’s never stopped me before – and given that he called me himself and he promised me a car park space, how could I refuse?

So I wandered over. And parked in the wrong space. Often when I’m in the area of BBC Radio Scotland I say to my companion(s) that I won’t know anyone these days. And so it proved. Other than Bill, Ken, Mike, Reevel and Torquil. Yes. There is a Torquil and, yes, he does work on Newsnight Scotland.

And so I was taken up to the studio. We walked rather than take the lift. I am sooooo unfit. And I was taken into the studio and it was then I realised the schoolboy error that I had committed. I asked John who else was on and how long were we talking for. No-one else and ten minutes. And I had prepared nothing. 😦

But it was okay cos I do talk about cancer a lot. Indeed the next day I was due to do a presentation to a group of people in recovery from drugs such as heroin about this very subject. And I did. And very well it went too.

But John did ask me to describe radiotherapy. And that was what I came out with. Those who’ve been with the blog since it first started as a kinda newsletter to tell people how I was doing during that period of my life will remember that I used to call it sandblasting and to describe the mechanics of it all and how, no matter how good looking the nurses and radiotherapists, I never raised so much as a smile and the jokes with the other folk and all that kinda stuff but none of that came back in those few seconds……what came back was the ten to twelve minutes of isolation and loneliness once you’d been positioned properly and the nuclear alarm had gone and everyone left the room but you had to stay there as stock still as possible whilst the machine did its duty and then you could be allowed to go.

That’s when you consider the enormity of cancer. And you realise that, with the help of the NHS and family and friends, you are beating it. You are not a victim. You are not suffering. Together you are beating it.

And then the machine stops and you put your clothes back on and you’re back on the open road on the way home. 😀

Other parts of the interview did relate to the language used in connection with cancer. And in my answer to the final question from Connie; yes, it is a wee bit like my conversion to pescetarianism. I like the fact that there’s a whole range of choices out there and tastes and flavours and stuff that I had never ever experienced before…….that and what had happened months previously.

And well done to uni-Sharon and Mel and Becky and their superb finish in the Race for Life today. And others who I know and my thanks to all those who raise money for cancer charities…..one way or another. 😀

My thanks to those who listened and the nice comments. And it’s here and it’s 48 minutes in.


Elsewhere this week?

e, AJ and RJ and me had a splendid game of football and picnic on the blaize pitches across the road from the student flats at (the former) Queen Margaret Hall; I did a few shifts in Sauchiehall Street and good they were; the prostate cancer chat went well down in Dumbarton; and I and a few other parents ate well at the house of son Brian and daughter-in-law, Katie, where Son Brian did all the cooking including cous-cous (I must get the recipe). Everyone else ate Moroccan lamb; I ate basically a pot-pourri of roast veg. New experience and new tastes. A good week.

And finally, can someone recommend somewhere for a special meal somewhere in Glasgow City Centre at the beginning of July……Maybe ten to twelve people but kinda well, maybe not intimate, but where we have a wee bit of elbow room.

That’s the brief.

Cya, keep(ing) it fun and still wearing that badge? With pride. This week.

Johnt850 and it’s time I bought a new pair of Saturday night sliders.

One small thing to finish with. There’s a lot of talk about educational standards at the moment. This caught my eye on TV this week.


What, I wondered, was an entry exam and why did we need to know they weren’t happening? 😉

One full stop. That’s all it needed.

Here’s the Black Keys. No. No reason. There doesn’t always have to be one, does there?


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