Christmas Special

We all know that every good soap opera puts out a Christmas Special, complete with corny jokes, laboured plotlines and celebrity appearances. So, for a little festive cheer, we thought we’d introduce you to the cause of all this “merriment” – the spots. In the summer, Quent’s lungs were hosting around a dozen spots. We nicknamed them Spice Spots and Spot That. Thanks to the treatment, Spot That has now left the building and only the Spice Spots remain.

In fact, it seems we really have to contend with just three Spice Spots. Baby Spot, Scary Spot and Sporty Spot. Posh Spot seems to have withered away to practically nothing (no surprise there then) and Ginger Spot has not been heard of for a while.

Sporty Spot was the largest Spot (at nearly 3cm in July). Her response to the IL-2 regime, however, has been the best. She has shed almost half her body mass by October. Baby spot was the smallest and has done quite well on the programme, so we are satisfied with her progress. Scary Spot is the one to watch. She started out smaller than Sporty Spot, but only lost 10% of her size with the first round. With a maximum of 6 rounds of IL-2 available, we need her to up her game if Quent is to be spot free by next Christmas.

We have informed their managers that, if we do get rid of them, this venue will not welcome any revival tour. And we’ve told Father Christmas what we want, what we really, really want. No more cancer. Could it be magic?

Quentin's elf

If you've ever wondered how we fill our days - we just sit around hoping Quentin's elf gets better...

http://www.elfyourself.com/?id=1406785186


With thanks to Joanna and Merry Christmas to the rest of you

Hair today, gone tomorrow

Sorry for the long silence. Just checking you were awake. I thought you’d all be too busy partying / writing Xmas cards / shopping to read our news, but it seems not. You are either exceptionally loyal or exceptionally bored.

Quent is recovering slowly. The pains in his arms are better than they were and he can now lift the duvet cover in the morning without using both hands. However, he is far from full strength and was admiring other men’s muscles at the weekend! He also still sleeps for a couple of hours – or sometimes more – each afternoon.

Quent’s continued light-headedness had me very worried – especially coupled with the weakness in his arm. On one website it gave the following as a symptom for brain tumours: Problems with weakness of the arms, legs or face muscles, and strange sensations in your head or hands. I didn’t sleep for nearly a week - until Quent relented and allowed me to email the Prof. Prof NOS replied “It doesn't sound like brain metastases” and I immediately felt better. They will do a brain scan in January to check it out. Quent says he now doesn’t have any light-headedness, but he says it in that evasive “I know you’ll worry if I admit it” voice, so I am far from convinced.

In the meantime, he has put a new floor covering down in the bathroom. Nothing strenuous (his arms aren’t up to it). He just walks about and a natural hair “carpet” appears. Poor Quent. He’s seemed more upset about his hair falling out than about having cancer in the first place. It’s a male thing. It doesn’t really notice on his head yet, but it certainly notices on the floor, in the sink and on the table.

Oakley did not help matters. When Quent explained his hair was falling out, Oakley retorted “Ha! Then you won’t be a man any more.” This was less than sensitive. “What will I be, then?” asked Quent. “You’ll be a beetle”, said Oakley, as if everyone knows that.

Changing the subject (for fear of losing some of our more follically-challenged readers), I will proudly tell you that Quentin was given an award at the weekend for Outstanding Contribution to Batchworth Scouts. The award is not given every year and there were several of us with tears in our eyes when it was presented. The Chairman described Quent’s activities as always fun and daring …. You might say hair-raising. ;o)

That’s enough family achievements for now. I promise to post again before Xmas, but in the meantime, thanks for reading and now get back to your own seasonal round-robin letters and baldy behaviour. [sic]