Post 93:31st January

It is very odd going into school today. Colleagues are pleased to see me and there are hugs and handshakes all round. Shauny talks to me about a problem class and says afterwards "Just talking to you I feel better already." They tell me how much they miss me and Julie introduces me to new staff as “The Legendary Lin” Perhaps in my absence they have glorified my achievements and forgotten all my weaknesses! Not so bad...
Then I meet with the Head who is amazingly supportive. She talks about the reorganisation of the school and tells me that she is looking to find redundancy packages for anyone over 55 if they want them though she makes it absolutely clear that she will hold my job open for me for as long as my recovery takes. I tell her I am interested in the redundancy. We talk about an early retirement on Medical Grounds and she says that she will work hard with my union rep to secure both. That is very good news if if can be lined up properly. I need to have it in place within six months before my salary reduces to zero! She invites the rep into her office and he agrees to come and visit me before my operation so we can start the ball rolling. Then the Head asks me how I am coping with these horrendous events. I explain that all the time I am looking for what messages are in this for me. She probes further and wants to know what messages I have found. I am surprised she is interested on a personal level, but it seems genuine enough. I try to be as honest as I can.
“Well I recognise that as a control freak, I cannot control everything. This illness is probably the only thing that would have stopped me continuing to work full time. I know that I need to step back, find some ‘me’ time and explore my creative side by painting and writing” The question is a useful one and I think she is fascinated by the answer. She asks me if my training has helped me cope. I have to admit that giving advice and support to others is easier than dishing it out to myself! Before we finish the Head tells me that I have made more of an impact on the school since I’ve been there than any other teacher. She is full of praise for my work, and tells me that they all miss me desperately.
“We have a difficult intake this year and I know that had you been here you would have ‘cracked’ them by now. The others are coping but it is a struggle”.
When I tell her that the operation is not without significant risk, she asks me whether I have considered how I would want to be remembered if things do go wrong; if there is anything that as a school they could do. Clearly I haven’t explored that avenue but it is food for thought.

I come away with mixed feelings; relieved that financially I am on the way to being sorted, and that my role there has been recognised. I feel a little sad that my work was brought to such an abrupt halt with no ‘wind down’ time. It feels very odd to know that I won’t be going back. The Head assures me there would be openings for me in the Education Authority in a much reduced capacity, maybe even as a volunteer, whatever happens to Carisbrooke.


Put out to pasture......

Post 92: January 30th

Professor P’s secretary rings me early this morning. They want me at the hospital by 9am on Wednesday and I must have nothing to eat or drink six hours before the procedure. They have no bed for me Tuesday night. Clearly we would have to leave ridiculously early from here to make it on time so Chris and I decide to spend the night in a hotel in Southampton. He can then have a second night there so he can come back with me on Thursday.
They are continuing to work well in the kitchen and it is taking shape. Here are some progress pictures to give you an idea. Last night we used the bathroom to wash up. A novel experience.



The work is just beginning... the fridge is moved.




two days later and we have a new worktop and cooker hood


as well as a new sink (yet to be plumbed in)

It is now looking more like a kitchen than a junk yard.

Post 91: January 29th

I ring school today and arrange to go in and see the Head on Thursday morning; I will also speak to colleagues and visit our Student Support Centre where Julie has been battling on without me so bravely and for so long. It will feel very strange.
I also telephone Jo D the co-ordinator for Professor P. She tells me that I will be having the embolisation on Wednesday at 1.15pm but she is unsure about when exactly I will be going in. It could be Tuesday evening. I will definitely be in on Wednesday night and should be home again by Thursday. Hopefully she will let me know tomorrow morning.
The kitchen is progressing, though it is difficult without a sink for a few days. It was also quite cold here today, since the gas stove had to be disconnected and the boiler switched off whilst a radiator was removed. I am looking forward to the end result. The new worktops look good.

Post 90: 28th January

Well the day began well; the kitchen duo arrived as planned at 9am– the journey was less successful. We had decided to go via Ryde this time. We arrived at Portsmouth Harbour and got on the train to Southampton Central which was leaving from Platform 3 within 5 minutes. Once we were on the train the doors were locked and several people asked if the train was going to Waterloo. We told them it wasn't but they couldn't get off. When the train didn’t leave at the appointed time we became suspicious. Once the doors were ‘unlocked’ we checked the platform computer indicator. The Southampton train was cancelled and the train we were on was being diverted to Waterloo! Had we not looked, we would have taken an extremely circuitous route! We were directed to take the train from Platform 5 to Fareham, and to change there for Southampton Central. There was a twenty minute wait for the train and yet another fifteen minute wait in Fareham. Because of a a further cancellation we ended up getting the Cardiff Central Train which we could have picked up directly from Portsmouth Harbour !Ridiculous!
Once we arrived at the hospital things went a lot more smoothly. There was no wait to see the surgeon. He was very pleasant. He had a student with him who asked me lots of questions but unfortunately didn’t listen to any of my answers. I told her I had been taken back into hospital three times following colon surgery, only to be asked two minutes later: “Did you have any complications following the operation?” If this is the calibre of our future surgeons I despair.

Dr P explained that the scans showed the tumours have not shrunk as dramatically as they would have liked. The operation will be very tricky as it involves leaving less than the standard thirty percent of my liver. The risks are too great, which is why they need to perform an embolisation. The idea is that this will block the blood supply to the part of the liver they are removing. As a result of this procedure the remaining liver has three weeks in which to grow bigger, giving me less chance of liver failure. It seems that in 5% of cases it doesn’t work.

I have a copy of the scan report. It gives a detailed description of the size of each tumour, and suggests there are some ‘patches’ in certain bones which show ‘lucent’ areas. The conclusion is that though these areas are slightly suspicious there is no clear evidence of disease.

I will have the embolisation next Wednesday (6th Feb) and may have to go in the previous day. The procedure has been booked. I can ring up and find out tomorrow. The major operation will follow roughly three weeks later.
I am not sure what to think. I need to face the fact that I might not survive the surgery long term, though there is a good chance I will. As a control freak I would like to know what no-one is able to tell me. That is frightening and confusing. Though I think positively about outcomes, I still need to face the possibility of the worst scenario so I am ready to meet it.

Post 89: 27th January

This is how I am feeling right now; prickly, sensitive and with a strong urge to hibernate....




Today we clear the kitchen . It is exhausting to say the least! Three times we were convinced we were finished, only to discover yet another untouched cupboard! I will take some photos of the work in process.
It is a lovely day and once we are finally finished we walk down to the sea, revelling in the blue sky and almost warm sunshine. Just the overcoats remind us that we are deep into January and not yet in early Spring.
My brain age has negotiated its way down 45 somehow…as long as I avoid ‘Scissors Rock Paper’ as a test! There is hope for me yet.
I see the surgeon tomorrow and I am feeling anxious. Watch this space!

Post 88:26th January

Well I had fun this evening with the brain training. When I first switched on the Nintendo it displayed the wrong date; given that it was only one day out, and I wasn’t sure how to adjust it I left it be. This worked well until I came across an exercise which asked questions like: What was the date two days before today? What day of the week was it three days ago? What day of the week is three days after next Tuesday? Well that is doublethink even with a correct date to begin with! I had a go but got them all wrong as my brain became increasingly more knotted. This ultimately forced me to work out how to correct the data. Thank goodness for the Internet! Now my Ninendo thinks I missed a day’s training. You can’t win ‘em all!
This bulldog (oops, BOXER) didn't fare much better!

Post 87: 25th January

A busy day today! I went shopping early for some food; some simple things for next week, given that the kitchen will be out of action. I then sorted out my sick note from the surgery. Confusing messages. The lady I spoke to originally at County Hall asked me to send it directly to her. On the back of the form it said that benefit claimants should post the form to the Job centre or Department of Social Security. School request I send the certificates to them. I telephone County Hall for clarification. Gill tells me that I should post it to her; she will inform school that she is sending it on to the Job Centre. Sorted!
I walk up to the pillar box realising just as I arrive that I have forgotten the stamp. All this Brain Training hasn’t done much to improve my current absent-mindedness. To clear my head I walk across the Duver and back. At least it is dry and there is an approximation of sunshine.
When I get home I cook a mushroom risotto and sort out some paperwork. Then I receive another email from Jo. She thinks the operation is likely to be within a week or so of the embolisation. I just have to wait until Monday to find out when and how they will do it. I don’t find waiting easy. It has been a long day and a painfully long seven months.

Post 86: 24th January

When I speak to Minna I find out that the CEA marker is down to 22.2 which is good news. She can tell me nothing about the embolisation; she wasn’t aware it was happening. Once again I worry at the lack of communication between the surgeons in Southampton and the oncology team on the Island. I am still feeling unsettled about the procedure. It makes it difficult to sleep soundly as the early morning hours are my most vulnerable moments.
My skin is still peeling prolifically. I am concerned as I think some of it might inadvertently end up in our food! Chris isn’t bothered; he says it will give it ‘body’. Yes perhaps…in more ways than one!
Today I receive a letter from the Benefit office. It is bizarre, and a beautiful example of bureaucracy gone mad.
“ I am now writing to inform you that your Incapacity Benefit is taxable from 17.01.08. This means that when we apply the tax code of 522L (which we hold for you) to your benefit, we will be deducting tax at £0.00 per week from your gross rate ...”
Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

-January 23rd

I have heard from Jo again. She has sent me an email explaining about embolisation. It doesn’t sound much fun.

"A local anaesthetic is given in the groin then a small cut is made in
the skin of the groin and a thin flexible tube (catheter)is placed
through the skin into the femoral artery. The catheter is threaded up
the femoral artery until its tip reaches the hepatic artery. Once it is
in place, tiny balls of starch or very small gelatin sponge capsules are
injected. These slow down or block the blood supply to the cancer.
Patients usually stay in for a couple of days, its all done in
Radiology. They usually have a scan in a week or so."

I knew nothing about this, and despite calls to Minna and emails to Jo, I am none the wiser. Clearly I am feeling concerned as this is all new, and yet another reminder that it is all out of my control. I had a call from my GP this morning and they haven't even informed him.

It is so difficult to make plans of any sort when I am in this kind of limbo.

Ah well....

another pastel for you to dwell on whilst awaiting further news...

Post 84: January 22nd

The kitchen people start on Monday, which is great. It means I will be able to clear the cupboards while I am reasonably fit and it will all be done before the operation.
Good timing!
I also have a letter informing me that my claim for Incapacity Benefit has been accepted, which is helpful.
According to Dr Kawashima my brain is functioning as that of a 66 year old, which is an improvement. Today I popped into the GP surgery to ask for a further sick note. This feels so strange to me. Last night I looked up embolisation on the internet and found out all sorts of things I wish I hadn’t! Apparently liver failure is not uncommon after a major resection.
I have an appointment now to see Dr P on Monday 28th in Southampton.
I wasn’t at all worried at the prospect of this operation, as I knew it would be the only way to save my life. Now I am not so sure! Hopefully it will all be explained when I see the surgeon. I wonder if Nintendo do a brain assessment that measures fear? Mine will be off the scale.

Post 83: January 21st

21st January

I wake this morning hoping that the side effects are now abating..but my nose bleeds as it has every day for months, my fingers are still splitting and a small cut in my thumb which appeared spontaneously, refuses to heal. I worry as to how well I can recover from major surgery in this state. I can only hope that things will improve before February!
I have an email today from Jo (the Colorectal Nurse Specialist)

I've just heard from Southampton following their multidisciplinary meeting when they reviewed your scans. They have decided to send you for emobolisation and then resection of your liver. I understand they are going to send you an appointment next week with Professor P to discuss this.

Jo isn’t certain what an ‘embolisation’ is (not sure if she spelt it correctly). I will hopefully find out more in due course.
I am relieved that they have decided to operate. I still want to know if the tumours have shrunk, but she wasn't sure.
I also receive a letter informing me that my pay is going down to half.

Now I feel in need of a laugh.
When Daniel was playing around with Photoshop on one of his visits a while back, he thought it would be a great idea to give me a beard, give Chris my hair and make him beardless! I have an uncanny resemblance to my brother Gerald. You can draw your own conclusions!

Is this me?




or him??Nice hair!!

Post 82: January 20th

When Chris saw the sketch of me he said it was decidedly unflattering and resembled Mother Teresa. When Rachel saw it she put it more succinctly:

"It is recognizable as you but it makes you look like an old man of 93 with false teeth. You look much better in real life!"

Back to the drawing board!

I managed to get hold of a second hand Nintendo DS from Ebay, and have now measured my brain power; it is that of a seventy five year old at the moment. Where did I go wrong? It was eighty yesterday. It is a good job I don’t need to win ‘Rock, Scissors Paper’ to exist. I am rubbish at it!! Perhaps Rachel’s assessment of the drawing is not that far off the mark after all.

I think I should maybe stick to animals! Here's one I prepared earlier....

Post 81: January 18th

St Mary’s again yesterday afternoon. I am getting so fed up with being in hospitals. I realise I have been on this treadmill of appointments, blood tests and injections for the past seven months, and I know this is only half way! I long for a time when I can be free of it all and they will finally leave me alone.
Dr B was optimistic from the blood tests that I should be in line for the operation in February. He says that he will be discussing yesterday’s scan with the liver surgeons next Wednesday and I should receive a letter inviting me for an appointment to see them and possibly with a date for surgery. So I play the waiting game again.
Minna says that the Chemo is likely to stay in my system for weeks, which is why I still have the skin problems and splitting fingers. For this reason they are giving me a break from Chemo before surgery. Dr B says the pre surgery Chemo is far more important than post surgery so if I can’t tolerate four more it shouldn’t make much difference to the outcome.
I try to make the most of these hospital trips by doing a bit of shopping prior to the visit, which dilutes the boring predictability of it all.
It seems Carisbrooke High, my place of work for the past seven years, is closing after all. They have been prevaricating about making any final decisions, but now the council have decided the site will be used for a new faith school and all the staff will have to re-apply for jobs within the authority whatever happens to Island education. No doubt I will need to discuss my position with the Head, which I plan to do when I visit the school towards the end of the month. It all feels very wierd, but it is strangely comforting to know my work situation would have changed even if I hadn’t got ill.

I have finally worked out how to rotate the pictures in photoshop so you no longer have to stand on your head to view them. No prizes for guessing who this is trying to be!!!

Post 80: 16th January

Thanks to all of you who sent me cards and messages for my birthday. I don’t think I have ever received so many since I left my childhood behind. I had brilliant presents from Rachel and Daniel. Daniel had bought me the DVD’s of Life on Mars, which I thoroughly enjoyed and Rachel had sent some cookery books, including one on cooking ‘under pressure’ which gives loads of ideas for using my newly acquired pressure cooker.
I had a funny sort of a birthday really. When we woke first thing to make our way to Southampton for my scan it was a dark stormy day and gushing with rain outside. We had decided to go by bus to Cowes and take the Red Jet to Southampton as there is nowhere to safely leave a car overnight. Walking to the bus stop was a challenge since the car drivers were racing past and one of them targeted my leg with a particularly spectacular splash. So I started the day pretty wet and became progressively wetter. The weather didn’t improve much and we gave up waiting for a bus in the downpour from town to the hospital and took a taxi. Once there I had to drink a jugful of disgusting Ribena flavoured contrast fluid. I have had nicer drinks to celebrate a birthday. Several people in the waiting room in Oncology were playing on their recently acquired Nintendo DS consoles and discussing their relevant scores for brain training. It looks fun and I am sorely tempted to get one, though so far without success since they seem to have sold out before Christmas and not re-stocked. I was finally released at 12.30pm, and we caught a bus back into town. We had lunch at a 'Slug and Lettuce', which was nicer than the name would suggest! We then found our hotel, the Novotel, which provided a comfy room with good facilities. We had a rest for an hour before walking around the West Quay shopping centre which was a good break from the rain. We made our way to the Mayflower and picked up our tickets at the box office.

Daniel had sent me a text so I rang him and managed to have a chat before the show began. It was an excellent production with some amazing special effects. The tornado was done with the use of background film, thunderous sound effects and lighting flashes, making the whole thing feel very real. I think I am a big softie at heart as I am a sucker for happy endings and the idea that good will always triumph over evil. I wish that all our world’s ‘wicked witches of the west’ would get their come-uppance in similar fashion. The audience was responsive and the atmosphere was great throughout.
We had been tempted to hijack a couple of kids so we wouldn’t look out of place at the Wizard of Oz but in fact there were way more adults without children there than families so we needn’t have worried. The last children’s show I really enjoyed was when the children were small and Paul and I took them to a David Wood adaptation of Jack and the Beanstalk where it was ‘Jack and the Baked Bean Tin Tree’. That was a brilliant production and David Wood is soon going to be doing an adaptation of a Roald Dahl story: ‘Danny’ at the Mayflower. If circumstances allow I would love to go and see that!
We had a comfortable night in the hotel. We hadn’t bothered with a meal after the show so enjoyed a lovely breakfast before walking back into town for more ‘shopping therapy’. Around midday we picked up the suitcase and wended our way back to the ferry terminal. It was a simple enough journey home. The water was much calmer than the outward trip and the boat skimmed smoothly back to Cowes. Arriving home I found a pile of birthday cards on the mat… I also had email messages and phone messages. Thanks so much!
I have some good memories to take away from the experience and the Novotel have generous amounts of my skin. A fair exchange.

Two more pastels for you to enjoy...which one is Aslan?

Post 79: January 14th

We booked a hotel and the theatre for Tuesday. It is the first time I have been away since the trouble began in late June. I look forward to the adventure once the scan is out of the way and I have drunk the contrast fluid and had the injection of dye and been shoved in a small tunnel for 40 minutes. That bit doesn’t fill me with joyous anticipation.
My attempts at drawing pastel faces made us both laugh aloud. Chris suggested I share some of them with you. I will leave you to do the guessing......

Post 75: 12th January

The neuropathy is gone now, and it is such a relief not to have had another treatment on Friday! My first ‘free’ Friday in three months. I spent much of it practising my art with pastels. It is fun. I have been doing lots of drawings of animals for the kids and sending them to Canada. Rachel tells me they inspire Levana to draw, which is wonderful.
My fingertips are still split and sore. I have to keep applying cream, but this discomfort is preferable to neuropathy any day!
Chris and I are planning to spend the night in Southampton the day of my scan so we can celebrate my birthday. We may even go to the theatre that night. They are showing ‘The Wizard of Oz’ which should be fun and not too taxing. Today we walk across the Duver and find three discarded socks and some underwear. There is no accounting for folks eh?

Post 74 9th January

This morning the neuropathy is considerably less troublesome, though my skin is ultra sensitive. I burnt myself three days ago just by the back of my finger momentarily touching the top of the toaster. I now have a painful blister which considering the minor nature of the injury really shouldn’t be there!
Last night I had a very strange dream. I decided to stop writing my Blog. Instead of it just ending, someone else was going to take it over. That seemed to wrong to me. I wasn’t at all happy with this outcome and I felt a huge sense of loss, akin to a bereavement even though it was my decision. Such strong emotions; for once I am not sure I understand the dream entirely, if at all! When I speak to Rachel on the phone we talk it through and both hit upon the meaning simultaneously. It is to do with my job. I am choosing to give it up, but it is nevertheless a wrench to stop working with needy students and I miss the close relationship with valued colleagues. Retirement is will be a big adjustment for me and comes on top of learning to live with cancer.
I go for a walk and buy a bottle of water, but despite being very thirsty I am unable to open it! My hands are not strong enough. I feel silly and helpless asking a complete stranger for help, but in the end my thirst gets the better of me and I ask a dog walker if she will open it. She is happy to oblige and tells me that her Gran can never open medicine bottles because of the child-proof tops that are virtually adult-proof too! Now I don’ t feel so bad!

Paul has received a wonderful home made colouring book from Levana for his birthday. Seeing the picture of it made me smile so I just have to share it with you. I hope he spends many a happy hour, ‘calrin’ it in!

Post 73: January 8th

Though I am off the tablets this week, recovery is painfully slow and laborious. It is good to have a returning appetite, but my mouth and hands are still sore, my nose keeps bleeding, and my skin continues to flake copiously. I need to accept all these changes to my body, but it is difficult.
I have been for a walk across the Duver; I would have liked a brisker pace, but I just couldn’t find the energy.
Taking Rachel’s advice and with Daniel’s help I am learning Spanish. He has given me the lessons that he used and they really are well put together. It makes language learning fun and very straightforward. Hopefully Chris and I will visit his family in Lanzarote when my treatment is over and I will be able to try it out. Muy bien! I will try not to make the same mistake as my friend Dianne, who got a little muddled between her French and Spanish and asked for what she thought was a slice of cake but it turned out to be a slice of cat (gato).

The Macmillan nurse, Annie visits this afternoon. She will support my application for early retirement and help with any benefit problems. She has also promised to come round after my operation.
She explains the significance of the cancer markers; they don’t necessarily show whether or not the tumours have shrunk, but how active or inactive they are. The fact that the liver tests show an improvement is also promising. It is good to speak to someone who understands all aspects of this disease.
I read something online which really resonates with me.

courage doesn't always roar.
sometimes courage is the
quiet voice at the end of the day saying,
"I will try again tomorrow."

- mary anne radmacher*

Post 72: 6th January

Rachel sends me some pictures of the girls playing in the snow when Jon took them out. They look like they are having a lot of fun. I wish I could be there with them building a snowman with hands that work properly and don’t freak out at the slightest hint of cold. More than two weeks after the Oxali and I am still having problems. This does not augur well. It is depressing that the neuropathy is improving so slowly now. I am still shedding copious amounts of skin. Chris looks on the floor and suggests he might find more of me there. It reminds me of the spoof song to the tune of ‘Side by Side’.

We got married on Friday,
Everyone said it was my day,
Then they buggered off home
And left us alone,
Side by side.

We got ready for bed then,
Oh, I nearly dropped dead, when
Her teeth and her hair
She threw on the chair,
Side by side

Well I nearly fainted
When her glass eye she let fall,
First an arm, and then a leg,
She leaned against the wall.

I was near broken hearted,
From most of me wife I'd been parted,
So I slept on the chair,
There was more of her there,
Side by side

Post 71: 4th january

Yesterday I received notification of my scan in Southampton. It is on January 15th (my birthday) which means that due to some weird irony I will have spent Rachel’s Daniel’s and my own birthday at the hospital this year! Is there a message for me there?
I also received a large package from Canada to “Migramainglund” which includes Levana’s stunning drawings and delightful letters and messages to me. I shall treasure them forever!

Today is a milestone. My final session in the Chemo suite until I resume in March. Anita warns me that she has to take an extremely talkative lady for a scan first. She picks me up early. She hadn’t exaggerated. The lady is pleasant enough but hardly pauses for breath regaling us with tales from her life. Her husband sits humbly on the back seat and appears quite mute. I jump out of my skin when he suddenly responds with three or four words when she mentions TV. Otherwise he is silent along with the rest of us. I find myself secretly wishing she had an off switch.
When we arrive at Chemo the car smells of old people and I am relieved to step into the fresh air. They have locked the back door because of the prevalent Norovirus which is a sickness bug that has spread throughout the country. Everyone has to go in through the main entrance and use antiseptic hand wash. We walk through the hospital and up to the suite with another patient who has been battling cancer for the last six years. He and I exchange stories. It is good to speak to someone who understands how upsetting it can be not even to be able to drink a glass of water. Hearing his struggle helps me once again see how lucky I am.
Some more pictures of our trip to Portsmouth.

Post 69: January 2nd

My flaky skin feels rough and uncomfortable . It leaves unsightly deposits in the bed and on the chairs. I can’t use phrases like ‘It’s no skin off my nose’ without Chris and Dan exchanging knowing looks and meaningful smiles.

I shed white flakes everywhere. The resident dust mites will most probably be grossly obese by now and it won’t be long before we will be able to spot them with the naked eye as they loll around the house bulbous and sated. Does munching on my cast off epidermis equate to a daily diet of Macdonald’s and chips I wonder?

Daniel drives us over to Portsmouth today. We have lunch together and say goodbye. We will miss him. We look around the shops for a short while, but the icy wind makes it difficult for me to tolerate. We soon loose heart and return home.

Post 68: January 1st

We had a great sing song last night, with guitars, keyboard and harmonica. We ate home made pizzas and just before midnight some hot home baked doughnuts dipped in melted butter and icing sugar.
Playing 60s music took me back to the time when I first heard the Beatles. Grandma thought they were longhaired scruffians. Mum was slightly more tolerant. That is until I bought my first single.
The Beatles
I spent my free time wearing ‘Richard Kimble is Innocent T- shirts mooning over David Janssen and recording sound tracks from ‘The Fugitive.’ I was obsessed. Despite my crush on various TV actors and covering my walls with their photos, I wasn’t that interested in pop music until one particular Saturday evening in February 1963 when I watched ‘Thank Your Lucky Stars’ on TV and heard an amazing sound. It was ‘Please Please Me’ performed by a new dynamic foursome; The Beatles. I was hooked. I could hardly wait for their next release and I saved up my pocket money until I had the necessary shillings and pence to purchase “She Loves You”. I was thrilled. I rushed upstairs and put it on the record player. I set the button to eject so that it would play continuously. It was my first single. Nowadays I can’t listen to ‘She Loves You’ without laughing aloud when I think of Mum’s reaction. She was clearly driven to total distraction by the repetitiveness.
It was around the 20th ‘You think you’ve lost your love, well I saw her yesterday’, that she came bursting into my room, red in the face and close to melt down:
“Turn that awful racket off now,” she commanded, “ or I will smash it to bits and that contraption with it!” She waved menacingly at the large orange and cream plywood case Gerald had rigged up for me with amplifier and deck. I was horrified. It simply hadn’t occurred to me that she wouldn’t completely share in my enjoyment and that she might not want to hear the same tune playing all afternoon.
We reached a truce and compromise after that sticky episode. Mum even began to enjoy some of the music and understood my enthusiasm. A couple of years later in January 1965 the Beatles were booked to perform at Hammersmith Odeon. My brother Gerald and Cousin Michael were going to get tickets and I begged them to take me. Gerald was reluctant.
“Mum, there will be crowds of people. She could get lost. I don’t think it’s a good idea”
Mum fought my case.
“Oh come on, she is desperate to see them. She’ll stick with you the whole time. Let her go with.”
I don’t think Gerald was that concerned about my welfare. He just knew he’d be in deep trouble if he came back home without me, so he took control and never let me out of his sight.
We sat in the ‘Gods’ in that huge amphitheatre, me crossing my legs, as I wasn’t even allowed a visit to the toilet. None of that mattered. I saw my heroes for the first time. The audience was a seething, teeth-gnashing, hair-pulling, clothes -rending, deafening mass of hysterical teenagers and I was proud to be one of them.
I screamed for Paul McCartney all the way through their set. I scarcely heard any music, and I could see Paul’s face only with the help of a pair of opera glasses – I emerged with a sore throat and pounding ears, but I had seen the Beatles live. I was in heaven.