The Stone Setting

Saturday September 13th

from Chris Nye

Dear Friends,
Thank you all for the beautiful tributes - it is obvious that Lin's death has left a very big hole in the lives of a lot of people. Her Grace - Dignity - Wisdom - Courage - Loyalty and Sense of Fun will never be forgotten by those that love her.

From our friend Margey

You can shed tears that she is gone
Or you can smile because she lived
You can close your eyes and pray that she will come back
Or you can open your eyes and see all that she has left.

Your heart can be empty because you can't see her
Or it can be full of the love that you shared
You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday
Or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday.

You can remember her and only that she has gone
Or you can cherish her memory and let it live on
You can cry and close your mind, be empty and turn your back
Or you can do what she would want -
Smile, open your eyes, love and go on.

David Harkins

Wednesday September 10th

from Chris Nye

Lin's Funeral will be held tomorrow Thursday 11th at 12.45
at
Waltham Abbey Jewish Cemetery
Upshire Hall
Honey Lane
Waltham Abbey
Essex
EN9 3QS

Tuesday September 9th

from Chris and Dan

At 18.50 Lin Sheffrin passed away peacefully.

Saturday September 6th

from Chris Nye

Thank you all for messages and kind thoughts,
Lin is sleeping deeply and is in no pain.

September 2nd

from Chris Nye

We had a very busy and enjoyable day in London on Friday culminating in a lovely evening in Greenwich. Sadly the next day we had to cut our trip short because Lin had developed severe abdominal pain.

Lin had to be admitted to St Mary's Hospital on Saturday night and then on Monday she was moved to the Earl Mounbatten Hospice.

She is in a wonderfully calm and restful place and is doing fine now that the pain is under control.
I will keep you posted.

August 28th

I have my second Hospice appointment today. The consultant examines my tummy and is fairly certain the swelling is tumour and not fluid. He is surprised that I still haven’t had the appoinment for the scan. He will chase this up and I should hear sometime next week. I ask him some blunt questions about the progress of the disease and the likely time spans. He feels the best way to see it is to look at changes over the past weeks. They have been fairly dramatic. He increases my medication to improve my quality of life. He says that youth is on my side and the body can withstand all sorts of abuse before it gives up; but if I loose blood supply to vital organs there could be a sudden deterioration. In summary it is impossible to know how or when this will affect me. Perhaps it is better not to know after all.

I feel a bit down all afternoon, especially when I have to buy some maternity clothes for comfort. At least they fit well and aren’t so baggy in the leg; but I do feel odd going round Mothercare with pregnant women. My lump won’t emerge in nine months.

I am looking into joining the local leisure club in Seaview so I can swim when the weather cools down, without feeling the cold. Being a private pool it isn’t too chlorinated and if I can go regularly on weekdays it may help me feel better. I have emailed them to find out the possibilities.

Tomorrow we are off to London. I have to remove my Grandmother’s jewellery from a safety deposit box in Orpington so we can have it on the Isle of Wight. We are staying overnight in Greenwich and meeting some friends on Saturday; we have all supported each other through various types of cancer. It will be the first time since the major operation that I have been away without a drain attached! Hopefully the experience will be enhanced since we won’t have all the hassle of flushing, syringes etc.

Rachel had a terrible trip home, arriving sometime earlier this afternoon! They were stranded in Halifax for hours put up overnight in a hotel, and subsequently it seems their airline has gone bust. They were lucky to get back to Ottawa at all! Daniel's journey wasn't without strain either. It took him the best part of an hour to leave the ferry terminal in Southampton. Is there a message in all this for us?

August 27th; our goodbyes

This morning the girls are once again angelic. The talk I gave them last night about today’s early start has obviously sunk in. Levana is totally cooperative, whispering eagerly as she dresses so as to allow Ziva another few minutes asleep. As I gently remove Ziva’s pyjamas she wakes, rubs her sleepy eyes and immediately climbs on the big bed so I can reach her to finish the dressing process. She then wants some breakfast and is keen for me to feed her some Grape Nuts with milk. She eats all of it, listening intently to me as I sing her a song about how much I will miss her. We are all comfortably ready at 6am to drive over to the ferry terminal. Dan takes Jon and the two girls with their booster seats, I take Rachel with Batsheva in the baby seat. The goodbyes are not easy. I have to kiss and cuddle them before they go into the terminal. I can’t cope with a long drawn out farewell. It is too painful.

Daniel comes back for lunch before setting off for Dewsbury. The house feels once again strangely quiet without the chirping excited children’s voices. No more ‘calrin’ at the table, penny whistle or dancing.



I sit down in the chair. I am wiped out, but it has all been worth it.

26th August

It’s their last night tonight, and difficult to believe that they return to Canada early tomorrow morning. The children went to bed like little angels, once I explained that they have to get up at
5.30am tomorrow, which will be difficult. I read them their last bedtime stories and they told me what a great time they had in England. They loved the sea, sand, bouncy castle and roundabout, plus time spent at the park on the swings slide and see-saw. Today they picked a batch of blackberries and ate birthday trifle. I’m not sure who is more exhausted, them or me!! Perhaps the photos illustrate their magic moments better than I can with words.

August 25th: The Visit

This week has been a hectic whirl of events and I am just surfacing for air! Ziva and Levana have had a marvellous time on the beach, playing in the sand, swimming in the sea, on the slide and swings across the green, painting and ‘calrin’.
Today we took them to the carnival in St Helens, which turned out to be a rare treat. I gave them each money to spend on ‘tat’ and they thoroughly enjoyed rummaging round the toy stalls and hunting out little treasures. We then went to the fairground and the children were delighted to each ‘win’ a prize. They had to net a ball to claim the gift and they loved the moment of success when the balls fell into their nets. After that they had a wonderful exciting time on the bouncy castle and slide. The look of elation on their little eager faces was a joy to behold. They had a turn on the roundabout, Levana in a large red fire engine which she chose after trying out every vehicle on offer! Ziva sat in a truck and was in a little world of her own.
You can see from the video that Batsheva shared all the fun in her own way, showing all those innate creative talents.

August 19th: preparations

Today we go shopping in preparation for the visit. It seems strange to be buying items like baby wipes and nappies (or diapers as they are commonly called in Canada). I notice the priority car park spaces for parents and toddlers and can’t help feeling somewhat cheated. When my children were small there were no such concessions and I made do as best I could. Now I have to struggle to survive long enough to get my bus pass; what an incentive to keep going!

Gerald has put some old cine film footage of Rachel’s first birthday party in South Africa onto DVD. There is no sound, and the quality won’t be up to much but I think it will be fascinating for Ziva and Levana to see their Mummy interacting when she was just one year old. Batsheva will think it is her! They seem so alike to me. I am so looking forward to seeing them all.


Rachel hasn't yet told the girls they are visiting Grandma England. Levana asked to go in her Uncle Dan's suitcase so he can drop her off at my house! The excitement would be too overwhelming so Rachel is leaving it to the last minute. Even when Rachel and Jonathan pack, the girls will stay with Grandma Ottawa! I would love to see their faces when they realise!

I am putting together a little 'time capsule' for Levana as the oldest granddaughter with my medals, and little descriptions of how I won them. I would like her to have it when she is older.

August 17th: It creeps closer

I am so looking forward to seeing the family again on Thursday. I managed to find somewhere for Dan to stay with a neighbour just up the road so he doesn't have to make do with a sleeping bag.
Chris' brother Andrew and his wife Nancy came just for this weekend. We were amazingly lucky with the weather. The forecast was grim and consisted of rain and cloud, but fortunately we had a reasonable day yesterday and today was even sunny. Last night they took us for a meal at the Dairyman's Daughter in Arreton, which was lovely. Today we had a picnic down at the beach hut and I couldn't resist going in for a swim. It must be to do with my blood being thinner, but I find it increasingly difficult to warm up afterwards. Nonetheless I enjoyed the swim despite the discomfort that followed. It seemed worth it. It isn't pleasant feeling that my physical activity is curtailed because of these physical issues, but when I look at it objectively I can see that it is just terrific to be able to lead an 'almost' normal life; so I musn't really grumble.
Once again I am receiving positive feedback from those who have read my book which is constantly heartening and keeps me going.

August 14th: The Hospice

First visit to the Earl Mountbatten Hospice in Newport today. The staff and volunteers are really kind. The Consultant who sees me takes a potted history, and has my notes in front of him.
It feels strange being in a place full of terminally ill people, and is quite hard for me to adjust to, but the treatment areas are so warm and welcoming; like most Hospices they do an amazing job.
The Consultant prescribes some more effective pain medication which he assures me is non-addictive, but he will keep in touch with me to monitor the side effects. He wants an Ultra sound on my tummy before they attempt to drain anything off. They need to see whether the swelling is tumour, fluid or a mixture of both.
I book another appointment and will wait for a letter about the Ultrasound. I made it clear that I didn’t want any treatment that would be unnecessarily intrusive. He understands. The consultant explains that they always try to fit the treatment to the quality of life of the patient. He tells us of one man who was a crossword addict. When he was put on a new pain medication the man complained that the Times crossword took him an hour instead of the usual half an hour. The Consultant changed the medicine accordingly and the man was happy as he felt he was back to his old self!

August 12th

Gerald and Teresa left on Sunday and Judy arrived Monday. We spend some quality time together talking of old cycle tours and the fun times we had . We take the bikes into Ryde and are lucky enough to miss the worst of the rain that was forecast though the chilly winds make it difficult to believe it is mid-August. Perhaps I am ever the eternal optimist. Judy has bought me some oil pastels and a pad as a gift. I look forward to trying them out.

Today I receive my first instalment of pension, but have still heard nothing from the Additional Voluntary Contributions. I telephone the pensions dept. to find out when they informed Prudential I was on a pension. I am annoyed to discover they still haven’t done it, despite telling me weeks ago that they had 20 days in which to do so. The lady I speak to assures me she will do it as soon as possible and I should hear from them within the next three to four weeks. If I had done my job as badly as some of these folk do theirs, I would deserve the sack! I don’t know how anyone too ill to follow these matters through would cope. It seems I have had to chase up everything to do with the pension from the outset.

August 9th:visitors

Gerald and Teresa arrived yesterday. Gerald and I had an amusing trip down memory lane about our family’s holiday to Ostende when I was five. Dad had wanted to visit Dunkirk because of his 2nd world war memories. Whilst we were there Mum sent Gerald and me into a shop because Gerald had seen two large red balloons in the window and really wanted one. She assured him that if he just pointed to the balloons and handed over some money the shopkeeper would understand. Unfortunately this was not the case and we emerged looking bemused, disappointed and clutching two small plums.
Later in the day my Dad had ordered a large beer. He thought he would get a pint and was amazed to be confronted with a two litre flagon. Not being a particularly tall fellow, he had to stand on the bench to reach it. He was determined to drink it though and staggered all over the pavement for a good two hours afterwards. I don’t remember much about the trip, being very small at the time, but I recall we flew on an airbus with propellers from Southend airport. As we circled for landing I apparently called out loudly: “Oh look Mummy, there’s a Belgian cow”, much to the amusement of all the passengers.
I look out an Odham’s Encyclopedia that Gerald bought me for my ninth birthday. It is full of quaint pictures of 50s little girls with pigtails and boys with short trousers who resemble ‘Just William’ look alikes. The Science section makes us laugh..how technology has changed in nearly sixty years.
We had a picnic lunch on the beach in St Helens and watched the wasps and the world go by.
In the evening we strolled along the beach in Shanklin after a nice meal together in a Thai restaurant.

It is good to feel normal again, despite the swollen abdomen. Now I am wearing an elastic maternity button round the waist band of my trousers. I haven't done that since I was five months pregnant with Rachel!

August 6th: Macmillan Cancer Relief

Had a surprise email from an ex colleague, Cathy, whom I worked with as part of the Kent Behaviour Support Service (or as the newspaper once appallingly malquoted..the Kent County Council BAD Behaviour Support Service). She is now co-editor of a magazine called ‘Play for Life’ which is for those who work with children who have emotional and behavioural difficulties. She sent me a copy of a review of my book Fifty/50 and asked if she could publish it. I read the review and was quite bowled over by it. Looks as though the book does have a wider appeal than just friends and family.

Annie, the Macmillan nurse called round yesterday afternoon as planned. She was extremely helpful with practical aspects of the illness and will guide us through the procedure for Disability Living Allowance which we are entitled to because of the prognosis and the unpredictability of the disease. She said that the team will offer support as it becomes necessary, and if there is a deterioration in my condition they will try to maintain my wish to remain at home, though will give advice if they feel that is no longer practical.

It was weird listening to all this. It felt like she was talking about a stranger and not me at all. Hard to accept that kind of decline in my health, even though realistically I will have to confront it one day. Nonetheless for someone who has been fit and healthy for years I found it very difficult to listen to. It didn’t make me tearful or anything, just mildly detatched.

She did feel that I could gain considerable relief from the swelling in my abdomen, and the hospice consultant will be able to offer advice as to when it would be appropriate to drain off the fluid. Though it will most certainly come back, diuretic pills might slow the process and I could be lucky and have several weeks without all that internal pressure build up.

3rd August

I wonder if Bine recognises herself in this Shorwell picture? It is from a photo taken on our South Coast cycle tour a few years ago.

Yesterday was a bit of a write off. I felt nauseous and uncomfortable and had a fever so aside from a short walk down to the sea and back I mostly sat reading. This morning wasn’t a lot better, I got up had a drink and promptly threw it back up again. I returned to bed for another hour with an anti nausea pill and hoped for some improvement. Despite the murkiness of the day I decided to try a swim mid morning, which proved a success. The water was surprisingly warm, though it was cool coming out. The beach hut is just so useful; to be able to change into dry clothes makes such a difference. When I got back home, and after a hot shower I curled up in bed for a bit longer just to ‘warm up’. It seemed like a good excuse.
I have rung at least ten taxi services on the Island and none of them provides more than one child seat, so Chris and I decided to purchase a couple of booster seats and a baby seat from e-bay so that we can at least transport the children safely from the ferry terminal. How we manage on departure day remains a mystery but hopefully we will think of something.

July 31st:

Seems I am not the only stricken member of the Bembridge Wheelers cycle club. Murray has broken his leg in three places and is wheelchair bound with external pins. Janet has a problem with her eye which means her vision is badly affected and she can’t cycle. Nonetheless four of us ventured out today despite the forecast of rain, and managed a very warm and pleasant ride to Puckpool and back.

I had a frantic call from Caroline this morning. She thought she had lost her camera and possibly left it in the beach hut. Chris and I diverted the return trip to the beach hut and he did a total search of the area. It is a very confined space so not difficult to see there was no camera secreted anywhere. Alls well that ends well, and the camera was found eventually at the bottom of a bag.

I am exhausted after the ride. My swollen tummy is putting a strain on me when I breathe, and I found myself wheezing and puffing a lot more than usual. Luckily the inhalers are quite effective at relieving the symptoms.
Today I receive my first letter from the Hospice. They have made me an appointment for august 14th to see the consultant about treatment. My GP feels it is a better idea to go there rather than back to the hospital. I agree. Given a choice I wouldn’t set foot in a hospital ever again.

July 30th: Sun Sand Sea

Despite a grim forecast it has been one of those perfect summer days today. Caroline and Jim came over on the early ferry with their grandson Sam. It was a great excuse for me to rummage in the trunk for some sand toys, skittles, football, wet suits and paddlers in preparation for Levana, Ziva and Batsheva's visit.

Though he was a bit hesitant at first before long Sam was in the sea and loving it. We had lunch in the beach cafe and spent the afternoon exploring rock pools and fishing. The only thing Sam caught were some stones, but he had great fun trying and didn't seem to mind the inactivity of his catch.

It was so good to see them all. I am determined it won't be the last time we meet.

Tomorrow I see the Warfarin nurse again, and on Friday I have arranged to speak to the Macmillan nurse. We could do with some practical advice.

July 29th: visitors

Pat and David (Chris' sister and husband) came to stay for a couple of days. Though I didn't feel one hundred percent the whole time I did enjoy myself walking, talking and sharing nostalgic moments, words of old songs and generally laughing a lot. I am doing a lot of laughing.
I tried the 'asparagus' cure that Gerald emailed me, but now I am so sick of asparagus I just gave up on it and enjoyed a glass of wine instead. As my Grandpa always said: "a little of what you fancy does you good."


This morning I received yet another email from a work colleague. I found it quite touching. She writes:

Hi Lin
It was lovely to see you at our end of term do and to see you last Wednesday at School.

I have to admit that I didn't want to say anything to you when everyone went over to the staffroom - I would have just ended up blabbering and that wouldn't have done anyone any good!

I want to remember you in your office leaning back in your chair - laughing at me -or offering advice - over making me a cup of tea whilst I was crying my eyes out - an answer to everything!! A refuge! And that is the picture I have at the moment.

I washed some tea-towels today - I took them in from the line and thought 'she's right - life is too short to iron tea towels!'
I folded them up and put them in the drawer - no one will notice! I am never going to iron them again!!

Difficult to end this e-mail - you have had an enormous impact on a lot of people. You won't be forgotten.

July 27th: tests, diagnoses

It was fun having Gwen and her daughter to visit. We laughed a lot and reminisced on old times in the General; mostly the amusing side of it all. It did us a power of good.




















In school last week and I realise there is a connection between Education and the Health Service. Whilst in Education we frequently spend so much time testing children (at government request; SATS, GCSE’s etc) that we forget about their learning and emotional needs. Similarly in the NHS we diagnose ad infinitum sometimes losing the patient in a maelstrom of invasive and painful procedures. We forget about quality of life. There is a lesson to be learned from both sides.

24th July: Retirement

The thought of saying goodbye to colleagues after 8 years at Carisbrooke seemed a daunting prospect when I woke yesterday morning, but once at school I felt more comfortable. It is a strange feeling both to belong to yet no longer be part of an organisation. Some of the students chatted to me about their timetables and it almost felt like old times. A few colleagues (fortunately not many) could scarcely give me eye contact. I felt for them. They just did not know what to say. Sad, I think, that we are not brought up with the capacity to deal with death or indeed with any kind of disablement. I can remember after Mum died some would cross the road rather than speak to me.

There were lots of farewell speeches. I hadn’t pre-rehearsed what I was going to say. There was a time when I would have been really nervous speaking to so many people, but yesterday the words just came to me. I told them that one thing I had learnt is that life is too short for ironing tea-towels. I also told them of the only two pieces of advice I had received as a novice teacher: 1. Don’t smile until half term. 2: Last year we had a teacher smaller than you and the kids were terrified of her.

I reassured them that I had passed on my expertise to others (Shaun and Julie) and also had brought in books for them to loan which could help.
The Head said some wonderful things about me, but one sentence sticks in my mind. I had told her the quote I wanted on the commemorative plaque: “to know that one life has breathed easier because you have lived”. She assured me it was lots of lives who were breathing easier. That made me feel warm inside.
Mary, the Head also plugged my book and I sold 3 copies plus the promise from others they would order it.
It wasn’t an easy day for me, but looking back, I am delighted that I made the effort to attend.

22nd July: A social life

Yesterday we went into Newport to sort out a few financial things. I have made an appointment to see our solicitor on Friday. It feels strange to be doing this in preparation for death, when deep down I still feel marginally immortal. Slightly less so perhaps than before, but nonetheless…..Rachel Jon and the children have their tickets booked for the last week in August. Wonderful news.
I have had so many lovely words from people, even some I have never met, who read the blog and find it inspirational. Perhaps while I am still inspirational my job here isn’t quite done. I’d better carry on inspiring, just in case.
Gwen and her daughter are coming to visit for the day on Thursday. We plan a barbeque in the garden; the forecast is excellent. Caroline and Jim are arriving next week with their grandson Sam. I think he will enjoy himself down on the beach. Gerald and Teresa are coming over on the 8th and our friend Judy from France is due on the 11th August. Not sure my social diary has ever been this full.

20th July: Change of Plan

My trip to Canada is off. I saw my own GP and he is justifiably concerned that all the swelling in my abdomen would be exacerbated by a long haul flight. I could end up very ill or in extreme discomfort. Added to to that I can’t get travel insurance without a letter from the consultant declaring I am fit to travel. According to the consultant I am not fit to travel.

Rachel and Jonathan are being really supportive. Despite the hassles of transatlantic travel with three small children, they will do their very best to come over to visit me towards the end of August. It does mean that I can have time and fun with the children. It has cheered me up immensely.

19th July

I’ve had calls from friends in tears. I’ve had floods of emails. It is good to be so well thought of.

I was invited to the end of term department meal yesterday evening. Julie whom I worked with really closely at Carisbrooke rang me and we chatted for a while. I asked if she could give me a lift and she arranged for Shaun to pick us both up and drive us to Rookley. Interestingly Julie confessed later in the evening she had been scared of phoning me but once we were talking she was relieved she’d taken the plunge. I totally understood. In some ways you imagine someone with this kind of news will be different somehow and you don’t know what to say. Well I am just the same me underneath and I spent the whole evening laughing and joking with colleagues. I wasn’t afraid to mention how I feel about it all and I was open and frank with them, but none of that detracted from the good time. I think that everyone was really pleased to see me. Even staff I hadn’t met previously recognised me from photos and told me they had heard so much about me. I was reassured that not a day goes by when they don’t miss me! Miss the way that I always listen to them and help them find solutions to their problems without being prescriptive about it. I think my head was so big by the end of the evening that it wouldn’t fit in the doorway.

It was hard to find clothes to fit. All the trousers that just about do up round my swollen abdomen are so baggy in the leg they make me look like a clown. But I sat down all evening so I don’t think anyone noticed. At least there were a lot of colleagues keen to buy my book! That should help the sales along somewhat.

Yes I have my moments of upset, but I am trying hard not to waste the time I have.

July 18th

The procedure is a bit nerve-wracking. The Radiologist tells me that he had wanted to wait a little longer before inserting the stent. If he can’t do it he will replace the drain. I can’t cope with the thought of having the drain a minute longer. Luckily he does successfully insert the stent. I am given a heavy sedative and remember nothing about it. When I awake I feel nothing more than a slight ache. That’s a bonus. Back on the ward Moaning Min is in full throttle. The nurses have clearly had a basin full. They exchange knowing glances and continue with their tasks. I have to stay still until 9pm. I am so relieved that the drain is gone. According to the Radiologist my billiary tract is ‘ shot to pieces’…nice.
It is not until Tuesday that the Team have their multi disciplinary meeting. Jo the co-ordinator comes and speaks to me first. “They have studied your scans at the meeting. They have no doubt that the cancer has spread to your pelvis. I’m so sorry” After I stop crying I ask her what this effectively means in terms of lifespan and symptoms; for that I have to wait to see the surgeon. He couldn’t be nicer. He is honest and frank. He agrees that Chemo is not a viable option and he wouldn’t have it if he were in my position. We agree on no further interventions, bar palliative care via the GP. That suits me.
I wake this morning crying at the thought of leaving my children behind. It is gut wrenching. Then I pull myself together and decide to go down for a swim. It is great to feel that salt water on my skin and to glide through a glassy clear sea. Now the drain is removed the dressing is waterproof and remains dry. It certainly won’t be the last time I do that. Whilst I swim, Chris makes me a hot drink in the beach hut. I am able to change into dry clothes immediately near the warmth of the camping stove. Wonderful. I feel certain if I can continue to enjoy life like this I will last longer than predicted.

July 13th

We arrived home yesterday; the prognosis is awful. The cancer has returned in my pelvis and there is nothing else they can do. They have given me a few months to live.
Of course I am shocked; this is so unexpected. I knew there was a chance it might return, but not quite so quickly.
So now I have to come to terms with everything. Naturally I intend to fight tooth and nail for as much time as I can. I aim to do as many things as possible each day that make me happy. I won’t mope; that is a waste. The worst part is the thought of saying goodbye to friends and family, and not seeing them again. The easier bit for me is death. I am nervous of the process but have been assured that it will be managed well via the GP and the palliative team, so I shouldn’t have to suffer. I could get another obstruction, so I can take preventative measures. Otherwise there will be no more trips to hospital, no more scans; that is the plus side.
I told a close friend and colleague the news and she has told everyone at school. I had a call today from the Head Teacher. They are calling the Support Centre after me (The Lin Sheffrin Student Support Centre) since I founded it. There will also be a plaque and a book for students and ex students to write in. She assures me I will not be forgotten. I realise that there isn’t anything anyone can really say about this. I can’t think what to say either. I thought about giving up on the Blog in case it started to sound too ‘morbid’ but have decided to carry on, picking out mainly the positives and the amusing incidents. Another thing to leave behind when I go, to add to the memoir.
The doctors think that a trip to Canada will be too much for me, but I want to see Rachel Jonathan and the Grandchildren again, so I still intend to travel in early September. Other than that I think I will just ask friends to come and see us if they want.
It was a strange trip to Southampton this time. The lift arrived exactly on time, we walked directly onto the Red Jet ferry and straight onto the free bus to the station. Just as we arrived the hospital bus pulled in. No hitches, no glitches. I didn’t even have to wait long for a bed this time, and by 1pm I was taken to ward E7. As usual there were some interesting fellow patients. When I saw the lady in the first bed I took a deep breath; it was ‘moaning Minnie’, still moaning, but now on the E ward with me as opposed to the F ward…oh great! Sheila in the bed opposite was telling Jean about the lunch she’d had. “The roast lamb was ok except the black bits”. Not much change there then.
I caught a glimpse of Sue, the domestic and Tea\coffee lady I befriended in E8. She was thrilled to see me. She told me all about her recent holiday in Greece. What a remarkable difference from those initial dour glances and tossing back of her salt and pepper course hair.
Conversations hadn’t changed much either. Overhearing this one, I couldn’t help but smile.
Nurse (shouting from her chair across the room to Margaret): Have you weeed today?
Margaret: Twice in the night
Nurse: But not today
Margaret: Well I went twice but couldn’t open my bowels
Nurse (relieved, still shouting) so you have weeed.
Margaret (finally) Oh yes, someone took me.
Not one of the best places for safeguarding personal privacy

More to follow...

13th July: au revoir...

I am hoping when I next write this blog that the worst is over, the drain will be gone and my stent will be fitted. I wish I were confident of the outcome, but I will have to be patient. I am always stunned and amazed when folk who comment on this blog see me as patient and as such a positive role model for others experiencing similar.
I consider myself to be one of the most impatient people I know and as a result this has been the toughest challenge of my life to date. Longing to swim in the sea and knowing I have to wait; wanting to live life normally and not being able to fulfil that wish right now; this is really a trial by fire for me. It came out of nowhere and I have had to adjust to so much change in my lifestyle. It is hard to absorb the enormity of it all. I feel like a piece of driftwood now. Where will I land? Will I come away unscathed? Frightening for a control freak to feel that I am no longer at the steering wheel. It is with trepidation that I hand myself over yet again to the medical profession tomorrow….au revoir.

11th July: a date to remember

In 2002 on Thursday 11th July Dad died; on this date in 1974 I married Paul. Well I officially retire today. A very odd feeling indeed. With a bit of luck I should manage to get into school on the last day of term to say goodbye and make proper closure on my career that has spanned 34 years.
Yesterday I managed to arrange transport to Cowes for early Monday morning. The Wessex Cancer Trust volunteers all seem to be on holiday but luckily the co-ordinator gave me another organisation to try and I struck lucky. I phoned the hospital to finalise arrangements. They want me to be there by 10am. It won’t be easy but it should be manageable.
I had a short ride with the Wheelers to Puckpool Park yesterday. On my return Chris took lots of photos for the publicity officer. I am supposed to hold my book. We choose the Marina as our backdrop and quite a few people walk by asking: “Who is she?”. Is this fame? Perhaps but as yet it is well disguised. Of the 60 photos Chris took, we choose the best 20 to put onto a disc. I insist that my varicose veins shouldn’t be publicised, so that discounts quite a few of them!

9th July: The earth moves ...slightly

Quite an exciting day today. The publicity officer interviews me over the phone, about some local and more national coverage for Fifty/50 over the next few weeks.

I receive a positive response from Writing Magazine. I originally completed one of their courses and wrote to tell them of the forthcoming publication. The editor asked me a few questions and they are going to run a piece about me in the September issue published on the 4th of August , possibly with photos.

I contacted Jo the hospital co-ordinator for Southampton. It seems they want me in on Monday the 14th of July with a view to putting in the stent on Tuesday. I will be glad to put all of that behind me. I knew that I would have to take the bull by the horns to make things happen; seems that was worth doing!

8th July: Arghhhh!

More frustrations. I still feel as if I have been left high and dry. I wait for a date to go back to hospital so they can insert the stent. It looks as though I will have to chase it up myself if I have heard nothing in the next couple of days. Not even notification of a scan result; it makes me feel like a non person.

We had problems trying to get some more syringes for the flush. None of the Newport chemists seem to stock them so we went to St Mary’s A&E where they grudgingly parted with half a dozen to keep us going for the next few days. I will have to get them on prescription now, apparently. Nice of them to let me know nearly two months down the line.

Then the GP surgery were unable to find my repeat prescription for more Warfarin. I don’t think this is paranoia on my part, but I am beginning to feel somewhat persecuted by all this. I need to project a primeval scream into the ether. Maybe some therapeutic painting instead…..

6th July; ad nauseam

Not such a great weekend. Yesterday I woke feeling sick and it wasn’t long before I was throwing up. I felt ok afterwards so Chris and I went to the Seaview chemist to return the ‘sharps bin’ which holds the syringes and replace it with another. Every time we do this the chemist gives me a smaller version. This latest one looks like the inner layer of a set of Russian Dolls. I don’t think it will last.

While we were out I began to feel ill again, and we went into a café so I could have a glass of water. I couldn’t even manage a cup of tea. On our return home I just took and anti-sickness pill and went straight to bed where I stayed for 2 hours. I suspect the painkillers had triggered the nausea. Sometimes they do affect me like that. I felt better by around 1pm and got up. It was a lazy afternoon, the only exercise being the virtual sort. We watched the first stage of the Tour de France together!
I am having a go at some local scenes in pastels, though am as yet not well practised. Still the only way to learn is to keep at it!

4th July:

My memoir is now available in Hardback direct from silverwoodbooks.co.uk. If you are a subscriber you can order it using the discount code I emailed to you.

I have finally heard from the TPS about my ill health retirement pension. The official date is the 11th of July, and my pension will be available from that date. I am pleased that I started the process in May. It has taken that long to organise.

Today I receive a letter from the Head teacher of Carisbrooke. She writes:

Dear Lin
Oh how we have missed you. The work that you do is often hidden. The real impact is only revealed by reflection. How many of your colleagues have said: "I used to dread that lesson with Fred and Frieda but look at the work that they are doing now". Or, "That Year 10 set used to be really hard work but after lin talked me through some techniques it made such a difference"

What you have done in the school has really improved the working day for many of your colleagues and truly turned round the life chances for many students whose prospects before they met you were, at best, awful.

It still feels strange that I am not returning. I am hoping to go in for the last day of term (if I'm not in hospital) so that I can say a proper goodbye and bring closure to so many years at the High School.

July 3rd:Appuldurcombe

We went with the Bembridge Wheelers to Appledurcombe. It was a lovely bright breezy day. As Chris had no picnic with him and we were all desperate for a drink, we went into the shop to ask about the café. We were taken aback by the off-hand attitude of the staff.
“Well there is a display on at the moment, so you can’t go through to the café. You will have to wait until 2pm when the display is finished. Anyway we had a rush at lunch time and I haven’t any more cups.”
Though we promised not to peek we were forbidden entry. We find it difficult to understand how they could hide the café away in such a ridiculous place and run a business that tries so hard to turn trade away from their door. Aren’t cafes supposed to have a goodly stock of cups and saucers? The mind boggles. After the picnic we decided to take our custom elsewhere.

The day was not without mishap. I managed the second puncture of the day as we left for Wroxall. Fortunately Chris was there to repair it. We were made very welcome in Wroxall at the Worsley Arms. Aside from a parasol that took off in the wind with a superb Mary Poppins imitation, we enjoyed a peaceful coffee and cake at a reasonable price. Dave entertained us with his ‘rabbit’ a hand puppet that appeared to devour salad and squeak all at the same time.

Chris led us back along the cliff path from where we had spectacular views of vivid blue sea and miles of quiet clean beaches. Margaret and I were chatting about a Treasure Hunt she is planning when we saw a small drama unfold before our eyes. Irene seemed to fling herself and her bike into Dave’s handle bars; it all looked as though it were happening in slow motion. Luckily only pride was dented; Irene’s because she had lost her balance; Dave’s because a young blond woman had flung herself at him and nothing had happened.

1st July

Chris is walking about with his head in the clouds now that Fifty/50 has been published. He wanders around the house muttering:

“I see a film. When they ask for the rights will you agree? Who would you like to play your character?” He firmly believes that if he puts the book on Ebay someone will buy it. I have tried to explain:

“Look, no one is going to do a search for a book they’ve never heard of for the privilege of buying it at full price.”

He is not convinced. “They will do a general search”…
“oh yes which will yield at least 50, 000 hits.”
Now he has ‘Googled’ me and found the book on a Scandinavian site called Akademika – alt av fagbøker. He thinks this is the start of something big. I wish I shared his optimism. It is comforting to know he has faith in me.

29th June

Some more pics of our walk; these were taken by Chris and are obviously in a different league from mine….

28th June: Bembridge Beach

It's a lovely day, of blue skies, so we decide to go for a walk along the beach to the Lifeboat Station. We start off on the footpath running parallel with the main road to Bembridge where the local flora is fascinating and the marshes irridescent in the sunshine. It ends up being quite a hike. Having got almost as far as Whitecliff Bay, we stop off at the Bembridge coast hotel for some refreshment. Chris suggests a game of table tennis, believing that with only a third of a liver I can easily be beaten. Unable to resist the challenge I agree to a game. Though out of practice and not as agile as I usually am, I still manage to win.

The Groynes stand to attention like obedient soldiers with their seaweed hairstyles. A poodle tries to camouflage itself among the seaweed. We see some interesting natural tree sculptures. The round Island Yacht race allows a couple of photo opportunities and we meet a couple of pirates on the way home.

































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