Moving at Last!!

"The only way to deal with an unfree world is to become so absolutely free that your very existence is an act of rebellion." ~Albert Camus

  (The music video, left, is NB Valerie's new theme song. Feel free to play it while you read.)
 Les went off to the Royal Free Hospital (RFH) yesterday from Wolverton, while I stayed behind, moored up across from the Galleon Pub with the rain lashing down and high wind gusts buffeting the boat. He returned at 6:20 p.m. and hugged me tightly. 

   The post-procedure follow-up appointment began with Les being informed that he had been booked into the wrong clinic; he should have been booked into some clinic in another part of the RFH. Les had the presence of mind to ask if he could still be seen by someone at this clinic since he had walked two miles to the Wolverton Rail Station, taken a train and a bus all the way into London to get there. 

   "Oh yes, I can do that for you," was the reply. Bloody brilliant...so he shook Les' hand and Les said, "Right well I feel fine. Seven days after I had this procedure done I felt fine and I just want to get the next lung done and move on. Can you schedule me for the procedure?"

   " Yeah we'll get it all sorted out." Really???? Les has every confidence that will occur; myself not so much. 

   "Could you please schedule it as soon as possible because they will cancel it the first time." The doctor looked at Les with questions marks in his eyes. "They will; every single surgery I've had scheduled for this cancer from the very first one to remove the tumor and create the stoma up to this last one, has been canceled at least once and re-scheduled due to a lack of beds and other issues having nothing to do with me." The doctor shrugged his shoulders as if to say,'Oh sorry mate, but you know how it is these days with the NHS.'

   "So if you could then schedule this next procedure as soon as possible I'd appreciate it."

The doctor nodded his head in the affirmative, shook Les' hand and Les left. All that waiting around, too-ing and fro-ing for damned weeks to wait for this bloody appointment and no one even examined Les! No one listened to his lungs, his heart, checked his weight, his B.P.--nothing!! And they call this practicing medicine. We call it a total waste of time.

   This morning we rose early, having read today's weather report before bed last night. Continued blustery winds with drizzle to ease off mid-morning and then pick up again mid -afternoon with wind gusts to 48 MPH. We needed water and we were free to move it and so we did!

   Into Cosgrove lock we went, watching a plastic cruiser who had just exited it, fight for purchase against the wind, which kept pushing the cruiser back toward the towpath. Finally he broke free and made for the 48 hour mooring above the Service block. 

   While I tidied up and hung the wash, Les was jubilant. He said he feels like the bad medical sh** is behind him now and we can cruise when and where we want, moor up out in the countryside as is our want and get back to enjoying our lives again. Les grabbed me in a bear hug and tickled me. A tickle fight ensued. I am extremely ticklish. Les is ticklish to the Nth degree to the power of ten when ten is a huge big number! Giggles and belly laughs rolled out the boat windows...

   After washing two loads of laundry, doing dishes, emptying the rubbish, bringing in coal, wood and kindling, and finishing filling up the water tank, off we set. We were finally FINALLY cruising on canal we hadn't seen in a year, moving, and feeling free.

   We cruised for almost an hour in the drizzle--caring not about the weather--big, happy grins cracking our faces. The countryside is lush now with late spring blossoms festooning thousands of miles of Hawthorn hedges like nature's bunting announcing that summer is just around the corner. Of course in the misty rain and high winds, a lot of those blossoms are single petals in the millions, floating on the canal and papering the roofs of boats; confetti after the parade has passed.

  We continued on with hot cups of herb tea in our hand, looking for just the right spot--some place with Armco metal shuttering to moor up with chains which provide the kind of fast-hold one wants in high winds; a section of towpath with no tall trees anywhere nearby to fall on us, and a bridge nearby to break the force of the wind if it changed directions and came at us down the canal instead of across it. We found it! A quiet place with eight foot high shrubs on one side and fields of Rape growing across the offside. A perfect place for a second honeymoon! Woot!!!