Holding Up Half the Sky

One day an elephant saw a hummingbird lying on its back

with its tiny feet up in the air.

"What are you doing?" asked the elephant.

The hummingbird replied, "I heard that the sky might fall today,

and so I am ready to help hold it up, should it fall.

"The elephant laughed cruelly.

"Do you really think," he said, "that those tiny feet

could help hold up the sky?

"The hummingbird kept his feet up in the air,

intent on his purpose, as he replied,

"Not alone. But each must do what he can.

And this is what I can do."

— A Chinese Folktale

Where Time Goes

Who knows ? Was it really 2005 ?

Links

Click on " View my complete profile "
in the left-hand column
for links to LifeGoesOn
http://mags-keepingfaith.blogspot.com

and Macfarlane's Ark
http://macfarlanesarkangels.blogspot.com

The Flame Still Burns

There's a cuddle out there from him,

......................................just for you.

Remembering - 29th January 2007

Invictus
(taking responsibility for one’s destiny)
by William Ernest Henley; 1849-1903

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find me, unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate;
I am the captain of my soul.


Link -
http://mags-keepingfaith.blogspot.com

Clinging On

" I know not how, but as I count
the beads of former years,
Old laughter catches in my throat with the very feel of tears."

- Robert Louis Stevenson

Mags finds her way through the tears, still
in " LifeGoesOn" at

http://mags-keepingfaith.blogspot.com/

A Year Ago

A Year Ago on
Friday, July 08, 2005
At last he was seeing his doctor.The headaches had been coming and going
for a month or so. Something serious was wrong. He had actually asked
for pain-killers. He never, ever took them. Typical man.
Now he accepted paracetamol without arguement.Then, it came -
the drunken confession after Jeannie's birthday garden party.
He told me he feared he was losing his mind.No, it wasn't heat stroke
or a summer virus "for wimps."It wasn't anxious regret
for his proposal of marriage.
His smiling mask of wellbeing began to dissolve before me
as he described the the reasons behind his recent aberrant behaviour.
"I think I am going mad," he said quietly."I think I am going crazy."
His mind had been playing tricks.Gaps and holes were suddenly forming
in the road. Smells and tastes appeared out of nowhere.
Irrational, "deja-vu " events assailed his senses filling him
with apprehension and nausea.Then there were the episodes
of partial blindness and tunnel vision as well as the throbbing pain in his skull.
Lately his is driving had been erratic, unsafe, even by his own estimation.
Now, whatever the cause, the consequences were becoming dangerous to others.
That could not be tolerated. He made an appointment to see his doctor.
It was Friday afternoon, the day after the London bombs.
The shock of such sudden devastationstill pervaded our mood.
It was very warm and sunny.Reluctantly, he dragged himself away
from his building project, donned a shirt over his beautiful, healthy looking tan
and went off to the surgery. Doctor B was great, cheerful, understanding and professional.
It may be nothing to worry about after all, but best to be checked by a specialist. With urgent efficiency an appointment was confirmed for Monday morning
with a neurologist at the Western
We felt disquieted all weekend, though. Why the exceptional priority
if there was no great cause for concern ? We kept very close,very quiet and still.
That would become our habit over the months of anguish that were to follow.

How I miss him in the sunshine.

"There are moments, most unexpectedly, when something inside me tries to assure me that I dont't really mind so much, not so very much, after all. Love is not the whole of a man's life. I was happy before I ever met H. I've plenty of what are called 'resources'...One is ashamed to listen to this voicebut it seems for a little to be making out a good case. Then comes a sudden jab of red-hot memory and all this 'commonsense' vanisheslike an ant in the mouth of a furnace........" C.S.Lewis

Link here to
http://mags-keepingfaith.blogspot.com

About Grief

C. S. Lewis, from A Grief Observed

"There is a sort of invisible blanket between the world and me. I find it hard to take in what anyone says. . . . Yet I want the others to be about me. I dread the moments when the house is empty. If only they would talk to one another and not to me."

Thanks for your continuing support both directly and indirectly through -

LifeGoesOn

http://mags-keepingfaith.blogspot.com

and

mailto:macdoodle5@btinternet.com

Thank You

- to all who contributed to the Celebration of Macfarlane's life.
Many of you have asked to be reminded of the words spoken in his honour.
Eventually, I hope to post them here.
In the meantime, life goes on with deep sense of loss and isolation.
The journey through sadness and change is charted in another diary.
To visit "LifeGoesOn " click on the link immediately below.
http.//mags-keepingfaith.blogspot.com

Another Time, Another Place

New diary for the solo journey - LifeGoesOn - click on the address link shown here.

http://mags-keepingfaith.blogspot.com/

Missing Macfarlane's Embrace

4th March

Much love and
Happy Birthday
to Helen
in Sydney .

(Expert in aquatic rugby training for three special wee boys).

Trompe l'Oeil

Did I imagine it, or did They just win again ?

( For those in the know, word has it that new training programmes in Australian swimmng pools could have something to do with it ! )

mailto:macdoodle5@btinternet.com

Nuala's Card

So many cards. So much sympathy. Each one a poingnant reminder of an empty space once warmed by Macfarlane's smile.
"He had time for you", "He always made you feel special", "He made us laugh", "He cheered up our day"
Then there is the hand-made card from Nuala and her class - a glittering, sequined portrait of their primary PE teacher. This sparkling image tears at the heartstrings in a way that only the innocence of childhood can. "You were the best, Sir".
What more is there to say ?

Keeping Faith

We, Macfarlane and I agreed that some good would come of this. Travel is always rewarding. Each of our journeys, however short or long, domestic or exotic, were periods of learning with resonance in our day to day life.
The pathway through this one has been no different - except that only one of us is here to look pick through the souvenirs. Over the next wee while, that is what I hope to do. Since you have come so much of the way with us, perhaps some of you will stay to help with the unpacking. There are a few sticks of rock in there somewhere among the sand and gravel - and the odd priceless treasure among the tears.
Currenty suffering the shock of jetlag, though. A wee bit lost.


Your comments continue to comfort. Thank - you for them, and all the emails, cards, letters and Hospice donations.It is appreciated that many of you have had to overcome an abject fear of technology to share your own thoughts in such a public way.

mailto:macdoodle5@btinternet.com

Letter to St Columba's Hospice

" My late husband Douglas (Dan ) Macfarlane spent some time in St Columba’s before his death on 29th January, 06. He was an exceptional man who touched many lives in a positive way. At the Celebration of his life friends gave generously to a retiring collection in your name. The accumulated sum of £1461. oo is enclosed as personal cheques in the hope that in this form it qualifies as Gift Aid. Please let me know if there is any further steps that can be taken to assist this.
It is difficult to express the depth of our appreciation at the care we both received . Four months of intrusive cancer treatments had placed us in a state of constant anxiety and diminishing dignity. We could not have predicted the change it would make to us when we crossed the threshold into the Hospice.
The ethos of care and compassion was quietly inspirational. It encompassed us in a blanket of trust and security that cushioned the soul. Even now, current grief it is made easier by the sense of stillness and calm you restored to our lives for that short while. We had the privilege enjoy precious moments in the company of dedicated sharing staff.
A simple thank-you hardly seems enough but it is profoundly heartfelt."

Additional thanks are due to those of you who have donated on-line or directly to the Hospice on our behalf.
Link to St Columba's
http://www.stcolumbashospice.org.uk

email Mags at -
mailto:macdoodle5@btinternet.com

Lewis's Words

" Mags created a space for Macfarlane whereby we could all share his journey through the cancer. Many of us have followed that journey in our private spaces, following and sharing. But now the space is here - no longer in the ether. The last chapter is here today. The words will be spoken and heard between us, the cuddles are real, the sentiments felt directly one to another.
Dan wanted this day to be different. We want to do something different, something that will honour the memory of Dougie, Dan, Macfarlane but somehow reflect how the man himself was - we hope that if he was sitting out there watching and listening, he would enjoy this moment. He was always so very heedful of the needs of others - maybe today, here, we can give back some degree of that caring.
I've called him Dougie-Dan-Macfarlane because depending on where you came into his life, you'd know him by one of those names. I remember once asking him if it was very confusing having different names."Nota-t-all" says he. He said it was really useful - immediately someone called him by name he knew where they belonged to in his life and it gave him a chance of remembering who the hell they were! Confusion into clarity. Disadvantage turned to advantage. Typical Macfarlane.The people speaking today represent those different names, different times and different associations. Me? I'm somewhere between the 'Dan' and the'Macfarlane' sets.
In deference to Dan's wishes this will not be a religious service, no prayers nor hymns. However, in direct contradiction of Dan's wishes there will be no; belly dancers, jugglers, fire-eaters, comedians, lady-wrestlers or replays of the 1990 Grand Slam. What we hope is that as well as the inevitable and understandable tears, people will feel okay about smiling and maybe even having the occasional laugh. Macfarlane would wish it so.
When I think of Dan, when I remember him its impossible not to smile or hear that mischevious, semi-hysterical laugh coming across the table, louder and faster. Macfarlane could mock you in themost wonderful way. Addressing Dan's sister's defence, Yes I know Margaret, he always did apologise, but then he always started laughing again !
So this is where I say my farewell. I'd like to salute Dan Macfarlane one last time with a guid Scots quote;
'He wiz only five fit fower! But when yer hert gauns frae the soles o' yer feet tae the croon o' yer heid - that's a lot o' hert! ' "


" Mags, I'm choked again reading it through. The quote comes from McIlvanney's'Docherty'. I couldn't find the book again to check the quote so it may be wrong in specific words. When I was reading it out I kept forcing myself to look up and look at the people. Apart from Margaret who I addressed directly and to the side I just couldn't see anyone, just shapes through the light which was pouring in through the stained glass windows. I just remember being partially dazzledby the soft primary colours of yellow and blue light ".

mailto:macdoodle5@btinternet.com

View from the Boat

Not too far from earth, yet
Was it mere coincidence that Scotland played stunningly well at Murrayfield on Sunday - and beat France 20 - 16 ?

mailto:macdoodle5@btinternet.com

Not the End

Today was full of sunshine and celebration.
There is still some sharing to be done.

Wear a Smile

- to say good-bye -

Saturday 4th February, 11. 30am.

Mortonhall Crematorium, Edinburgh.

No flowers please.

Donations to St Columba's Hospice.

mailto:macdoodle5@btinternet.com

Order of Service

Lewis - Welcome

Mags and Mike - Family

Angus - A Song

David - Rugby pals

Robbie - RNXS

Graeme - Seagull Trust

Susi - Poem

Ewen - Appreciation

Kate - Leven, Companionable Silence-

Alan and Eric - Friendship, Ardbeg and Farewell

So Sad

Funeral details will be posted soon.
Thank for staying close.

Setting sail

At 2.25 today our lovely man set his sails for Macfarlane's lantern, peaceful and happy to be forever on the wide blue ocean.
Today was a good day to die.

Bitter Sweet

Leven has arrived.
Macfarlane plots his ultimate course.
Heros. Simply breathtaking.

Round the Clock

Lots of support now, day and night. After a weekend battery failure on the drugs driver it took a flurry of nurses to set things to rights. Seduced as they are by the indominatable Macfarlane spirit, they told their friends to come too. Indeed, soon we'll have met the whole, dedicatedly caring team - every one a gem - every one treated to a dose of his utterly disarming humour and charm. It is a spontaneous reaction from him no matter how pained and fatigued he feels. Just when we think the reserves are failing some new source of energy is found. Perhaps through osmosis his sixties sojourn across the Red Interior has left him with the Aboriginal skill to survive the harshest of drought. Wherever it comes from, the ability to conjure up sparkling springs of laughter in the most arid terrain never ceases to amaze.
But I'm never too surprised that as soon as they are gone, in the all too brief periods of calm between medical intrusions, the oasis melts away. He tilts back his head and retreats into sleepful oblivion - "zonkers"
"Any more news from the blog, Mags. Let me know when I'm awake"
He says he loves the buzz he gets from you all meeting up there. Not quite The Abbotsford before an International or the Cask and Barrel for a St Mary's in-service, but this way he doesn't have to tackle the pints.
Ssssssh now, he's drifting. Doorbell off, phone on silent . Thank you for your noise free comments and emails.
mailto:macdoodle5@btinternet.com
Page down to find out how to share a comment with everyone .

Columbus on the High Seas

Different route, different reason but a parrallel journey nevertheless - along the same time line, inextricably linked. Share the last nailbiting centimetre with us at -

http://www.columbusrun.com

Looking forward to an Ardbeg with the ferryman.

Bread Poultice

Home at last, zimmering up to the door in the drizzle, insistent on going it alone. After a rest and a visit from Nurse Pauline, Inoxaparin injections, anti-nausea drugs in a driver and paracetamol - yes paracetamol for the pain, Macfarlane wants to bake bread. Though he's off his food he fancies the smell might awaken his appetite . So the frail, pyjama clad baker cut a dash in the kitchen. He calls for the flour and yeast, milk,salt seeds and herbs for his wonderfully eatable, much sought after, these-days-rarely-made loaf. The recently pristinised workplace was quickly adapted to include zimmer and chair.
When the flour finally settles in snow drift slopes on the recently prisine worktops, and the dough is set to rise to a golden mound , he returns to the recliner for an indulgence of tele. A pale but aromatic air of near-normality warms the mood.
If the taste buds aren't tittilated, that increasingly persistent cough may well benefit from an up-market application of that famous old wives remedy.
Personally I prefer mine toasted. Bring on the marmalade.
mailto:macdoodle5@btinternet.com

More Hiccups

Some recurrence of nasties meant not quite fit enough to come home yet. Better luck tomorrow, maybe.
Meanwhile, thanks to angels- in-law, the wee cottage that awaits his return is transformed into a pristine haven of perfumed cleanliness. A squad of rookie Columbans eagerly stand by to indulge our man's every need. Smell the Flash. See the new halos glint like fairy lights.

Courtyard Hospice

Transfer home imminent - with wheelchair and zimmer - to courtyard annexe. St Columba's arms also very long stretching out to our own magic wee place. Peace, comfort and rottweiler receptionist are being installed to secure the most therapeutic environment. Thank you for respecting our current need for quiet and privacy. Normal service may take a wee while to resume.
In the meantime your comments and emails are warmly appreciated.
macdoodle5@btinternet.com

Powering Down But Not Out

This is a quiet time although we are surrounded by the clatter and clamour of everyday life. It is a time of smoothing sheets and plumping pillows, of treading gently round sleep and pain. It is a curious state of limbo. Past joys can spark the pain of imminent loss We do not seek them out, for there can lurk despair.The future does not stretch beyond each moment so we seek from it what treasures we can.
Yet this is a place where life happens. Not easy,often hard,it is a simple inevitability. There are no intrusive demands or preconceptions about how it should be done. There is just someone who stays close , who steps in when needed and then discretely disappears - not patronising, ,not dutiful, but with lightness of heart and a readiness to find smiles in the darkest of places.
While we are here our visits to the ether may be less frequent. We know that you will continue to respect and protect our place of retreat and keep faith with our imposed silence.
St Columba's arms are big enough to hug us all. Feel the comfort. Love to you all.

Highways and Byways

Braving high winds and stunningly dramatic hail and rainbow storms lashing the banks of the Forth sister Margaret and I arrived sodden, freezing and bedraggled to find our hero oblivious to all but his dreams.
The lovely Dr Esther with the dulcet Irish lilt came over to talk about the uncommon coagulation properties of our hero's blood. It's idiosyncratic nature gives it a propensity to clog up the major veins. The consequence for him is acute pain, predominantly in his right leg. The challenge now is to keep the blood flow thin enough to travel back up to the heart, to avoid all the traffic jams on the main arterial highways. Plotting a map through the narrow lanes of Connemara rather than M6 to London is proving a might more difficult than expected.
Though the cancer locust continues to consume all in its path, the immediate goal for comfort depends on treatment and prevention of deep vein thrombosis. The Inoxiparin regime starts again tomorrow if the Warfarin is sufficiently out of his system.
The good news is that gastric rebellion is being quelled with the aid of an anti nausea drug administered through a shunt - a clever piece of engineering that is a bit too fascinating. The fidget factor in the psyche of all men may well see it taken apart before the end of the day.
Corn flakes for breakfast and at lunchtime, a small helping of "really good" chicken pie and ice-cream with custard for afters, brought roses - all-be-they miniature -, back to his cheeks.
However, the biggest boost into a state of wakefulness was the evening discovery of Sky Sport on his overhead entertainment centre. Just in time for Manchester V Blackburn game. The Scotsman crossword was put on hold' would you believe. No competition.
Thereafter,surrounded by his ministering angels and the compelling aroma of toast, he sat back on his virtual saddle and set off to fight bandits in the company of Clint-High-Plains-Drifter-Eastwood.
Gleneagles eat your heart out.
Nighty-night.

Rest Assured

The light from halos gently glows from this place. We even thought we heard the soft hush of feathers drifting past the bottom of the bed. The house were Macfarlane sleeps tonight is quite simply, peace on earth.
Keeping watch.............for a wee while yet.

Tonight's News

After a day of intensive care and support from the local G.P. service Macfarlane is booked in for a wee stint of palliative care assessment at the wonderful St Culumba's Hospice. It'll be a bit of a home from home for him with the added extra of a fabulous view across his much loved Firth of Forth. He's expected to be there initially for a few days, but perhaps longer if deemed best.
Patient empowerment is at the heart of St Columba's philosophy. He is content, at last, to be going to a place where his complex, idiosyncratic symptoms and serious pain relief are managed with his understanding and consent.
There's an ambulance calling for him tomorrow morning and as soon as possible we'll give you an update.
In the meantime if you'd like reassurance about the place and how good it is, or just know a little more about the work they do, visit -

http://www.stcolumbashospice.org.uk

"The role of the Hospice in modern times is to remind us that any act of caring enriches the life of the person giving and the life of the person receiving – a basic truth that is all too often overlooked in our materialistic world."
(A Patient 1991)

Zzzz..zz..zzzz..zzzzzzzzzzzz....

The Man is home, happy, happy, happy to be in his own bed. DAB is on, softly, softly. Janey Jones smiling audibly between Berlioz and Einaudi.
Gently, gently, thankful for this digital other woman with the melifluous voice who has the magic to seduce him into revitalising sleep.
" Pure radio", thanks Janey.
Hhhhuuuussssssshhhh.

Blood and Numbers

ERI seem to have a handle on the complexities of our man's condition. INR count was as high as 12.5. Treated with vitamin K it is dropping slowly and is currently at 7.4. All a bit technical for some of us but the long and the short of it is that they won't let him home until it is hovering around 4.0. Maybe tomorrow ,then, to celebrate big brother Frank's 70th.
Stay close.

Late Night Run to the Royal

At 9. 15 pm the "out-of-hours" doctor phoned to say Macfarlane's warfarin level was critically high. This was according to the blood test Pauline had extracted around mid - day. A visit to hospital was deemed essential and at 10.30. he was taken by ambulance to the Edinburgh Royal.
I left him there around 1.00 am. He was very weary, but comfortable. He's on a drip to re-balance his blood and diminish the danger of brain haemorage. The prognosis appears positive but we'll have a better picture in the morning when I expect to take him home.

Pauline Brings a Flush to the Cheeks.

What did the patient say to the District Nurse when she arrived with a car load of accessories for the frail and infirm ?
" I see you've brought a urinal............
Is there an ars-enal to go with it ? "
The new commode sits in splendid camouflage with a mirror-sequined, embroidered coverlet awaiting the master's pleasure.
" Where's the flush .... and the paper ? "
That would be the Scotsman, sir ?

A Highly Recommended Read

" What can I do to help ? "

75 PRACTICAL IDEAS FOR FAMILY AND FRIENDS FROM

CANCER'S FRONTLINE

Deborah Hutton

ISBN 1-904977-39-1

£7. 99

Your love and good wishes are overwhelming. Thank you for all continuingly welcome virtual hugs in comments and emails. That way you are keeping the phone line clear for essential family and medical calls, not to mention giving the Man a peaceful and quiet space to retreat.

See you in the Macfarlane Sky Bistro -as ever, open all hours.

By the way, you've just missed the fresh cherry scones that Jeannie made. Better than ever and still hot from baking they were scoffed beyond trace of existence. Not a crumb was left to prove that she at least is struggling back to health.

Same praise for her tattie soup - a culinary gem for the overstessed tum - thanks Mum.

mailto:macdoodle5@btinternet.com

or click "comments " at end of each post.

Better than Yesterday ......?

Ask him how he felt yesterday and he'll tell you "not too smart ." This euphemism serves to disguise a plethora of increasingly aggressive symptoms. Master of the understatement, he will rarely disclose the debilitating reality of his condition. Rather he'll joust with it ,battling with a lance of good natured humour, his Quixotic tongue tucked firmly in his cheek. A dose of this affliction necessitated the doctor to be summoned on Hogmanay. After a good deal of the usual prodding and awkward, dignity-abusing questions a clear therapeutic remedy remained elusive.
Our seriously dehydrated knight errant was prescribed, among other things, a liquid diet. I ask you - a liquid diet to a true Scot on Hogmanay !
A genetic inevitability, no ?
Anyway, a miracle cure it was not to be. Even sips of water created gastric rebellion. Codeine Phosphate proved marginally effective in alleviating some of the worst effects as well as inducing welcome, sleepful sobriety well into New Years Day.
In the Macfarlane household the chink of glass on glass was only just heard above the pfizzz - pfizzzz of Highland Spring. Cheers !

mailto:macdoodle5@btinternet.com

A Perfect Moment

4th August, 2005
A day palpable with joy and friendship to carry us into the New Year and give us strength to cope with increasing frailty.
A Guid New Year from the two of us.

Rainbows in the Puddles.

Mike slept under the Christmas tree on Christmas Eve.
On Christmas morning Macfarlane, on steroid induced apetite high, felt compelled to indulge all three of us with his culinary delights. A breakfast of Bucks Fizz, French toast, bacon, blackpudding and potato scones was concocted. He only had to sit down once to recover from the exertions while we had to go and lie down for an hour to digest.
Helen and Euan came at Twelve with lovely presents and hugs.
Mike gave Euan a pigs a**e for Christmas which still makes us titter out loud.
Mac and Mags had a peaceful, much to be recommended, finger buffet-a- deux with the virtual Dorothy, Toto and the combined populations of Kansas and Munchkinland.
Afterwards, Carol's Taxi and Ironing service, with flawless efficiency organised us in our sartorial best and transported us to Morag's. There it was coffee, chocolates and presents with the Nisbet clan then home for an early night.
The Western Ward 4 staff continue to be wonderful each day, with friendly, efficient clinical support and trouble free blood tapping.
Emails, prayers, cards and candles - all the warmth pouring out from family and friends - combined to procure a wee glimpse of the rainbow, if not the Emerald City.
Can it last into the New Year ? Of course it can.
In the meantime ...........we'll click the heels of our DVT stockings and............
"Follow the yellow brick road, follow the yellow brick road, follow, follow, follow, follow, follow the............"

DidjitiDo - or What Do You Give a Radio Fanatic for Christmas ?

It said on the box " Hold my handle , hear me speak". This digital radio, aka Dab, was just crying out to be put in Macfarlane's Christmas stocking. He has wanted one for a while. So far, none appealed to his genetically Scottish pocket or looked small enough to put on an overcrowded bed-side table.
Pure, natural sound has long been a passion with him particularly since returning from the World Cup in Australia with a didjiridoo. Some may have wished for a more delicate reminder of that jewel strewn land but he chose a treasure we could enjoy simultaneously.
He set about a daily routine that was previously served by the radio alarm. Eventually he would master enough circular breathing technique to produce a primeval bellow reminiscent of the ritual chants heard from rugby lads in the communal tub.
While this conjured image is not altogether undesirable for either of us the time for change had come. A degree of sophistication and modernitiy was overdue in the otherwise primitive low tech Macfarlane household.
So now we have her, the invisible siren who breathes her magic from her Alladin's box."Searching time........searching time....Finding stations......finding stations ".
We are now transported languidly to an auditory health spa of extraordinary ecstasy. Ears massaged in turn by the monotone of the after-game commentation or a vigorous blast of Tam Cowan's " Aff the Ball " can wish for nothing more than the flotarium indulgence of Smooth Classic's at Seven. And the biggest bonus of all - We can now access Saga Radio. Ah-me.....
Searching time ....... Searching time.......searching........searching........

A Wee Bit of Joy

What it is all about, after all - Celebrating life.
A Very Happy Christmas to you all.






email mailto:macdoodle5@btinternet.com

A Not-So-Ordinary Whisky Galore !

As we were just saying, funny who you bump into in the ether.
It seems that the the man's Ardbeg habit has come to the attention of the notable distillers themselves.
Until recently, they have been content to mingle unseen, without comment, among the friends of this space.Now in a personalised celebration of a shared passion for those amber moments, they have bestowed on the Macfarlane a most prized accolade (and a bottle too ).
So raise your glasses folks - of Ardbeg, of course, - in a toast -
To His Excellency, the Honorary Ambassador of All Things Ardbeggian.
Slainte !
mailto:macdoodle5@btinternet.com
Photo from Fi's and Nik's Wedding 2003

A Wee Toast to You

Little did we think our humble blog would touch so many hearts and minds. Meeting in the ether has been therapeutic in ways that were not imagined at the outset.
Since the very gregarious Macfarlane has had his social fix put hold -your virtual visits have been there to provide the smiles, the laughter, the good humored slagging that save us from getting a bit above ourselves or dwelling too deeply on the dark side.
It will never quite match the warmth and spontaneity of a seat round a well laid table or a shared roasting of cheeks round the chiminea with smokey Ardbeg, but it is a reasonable substitute.
One of the most rewarding delights in meeting like this is the opportunity for new links to be forged and knowledge to be gained. The Bistro in the Sky seems to be taking on a clientele - not to mention a life - all of its own.
Bon Apetit ! And cheers from the two of us.
mailto:macdoodle5@btinternet.com

Happy Birthday Mels !

Many Happy Returns Mels !

30 HUGE HUGS

from Dad
Contact: mailto:macdoodle5@btinternet.com

Peaceful Night, Lazy Night

After the distress of recent days Macfarlane cooried-in for a cosy night at home.

Meanwhile Jeannie is illuminating x-ray film at the Royal but clear diagnosis remains elusive. What that woman will do for hospital food !

No Laughing Matter

It was difficult to find any humour Friday's fiasco. Not even the thirteenth and it was certainly a day from hell. It started with sunshine on frost and a fog of another sleepless night hanging in the chill air. Overnight Macfarlane's leg had taken on the look of a Wartime barrage balloon and Jeannie couldn't find the puff to blow a soapy bubble.
Both ended up in their respective hospitals - Mum by ambulance to the Royal with Morag in hot pursuit. - Mac ( "Can you make it under your own steam ? It'll be faster ........!!! " ) in our ailing Brava, to the acute Assessment Unit at the Western.
We can now give a whole new meaning to the word "acute " and "emergency ". Once more we were in for another dose of the bureaucratic nightmare that disables the work of dedicated professionals.
A long and weary story unfolded that is best kept for another time and place. Suffice it to say that we arrived as at 1. 30 pm in the afternoon and left for home some eight hours later more despairing and distressed than we were on arrival. With Mac in some discomfort we sat together in the crowded corridor amidst the pre Christmas rush of ailing elderly and generally afflicted " clients " .
After waiting about four hours we were seen briefly by a proficient young doctor who, however, had none of Mac's medical records to help her. So it was back to the joyless penitential corridor for a few more hours of excruciting tedium and anxiety.
To get things moving again, I confess to a wee tantrum. It seemed to do the trick.
Sincere apologies and a stroke of initiative from young Dr F empowered us again . " Come back tomorrow but this time go directly to oncology were, perhaps, you should have been all along " she said, aware that the system had robbed us of some precious peace and quiet.
Taking the bull by the horns we pitched up in Ward 4 today. Initial confusion among the staff melted into caring hospitality and concern. Twenty- four hours after the initial emergency referral we were given the level of advice and treatment we would wish as standard for everyone. We're back there on Sunday to begin the daily blood tests again.
It was cheering to come home to our illuminations and the prospect of a visit from Mike who arrived from Oz with gifts of smiles and hugs. He himself is the surprise package at Mel's 30th birthday celebrations tonight. So very sorry we had to miss out on what will be, without doubt, a quiet and peaceful evening - not.
Meanwhile, Jeannie spends another night under supervision, hopefully comfortable and safe.
mailto:macdoodle5@btinternet.com

Grand Old Duke of York 2

Definitely down again !
Not a good day for dancing.
Did you know that warfarin does not get rid of clots ? It just thins the blood to pass by them and hopefully stops them getting bigger or breaking up.
This new learning curve carries with it the the explanation for the latest bout of significant discomfort in the right leg - or is there a Christmas turkey out there sticking pins in effigies as a payback for battery farming ? We 'll go vegetarian -honest.

Just a Quickie

An appetite boost brought on by big doses of steroids has put a little apple blush into Mac's cheeks. Yesterday he called for home-made fish pie and tonight polished off a wee plate of scampi and chips with a dash of white wine and tarragon sauce.
The drug downsides seem worth it for this illusion of normality, albeit that the Grand Old Duke of York remains omnipresent in the background.
Renewed energy took him round to Strawberry Corner where he applied his singular expertise in choosing the best six foot Nordman spruce they had on display.
After hours replacing the odd light bulb or two hundred, it was transformed with magical twinkling into the best Christmas trees in the world - ever ! That's inside - tomorrow the garden may well prove an unashamed rival to Blackpool illuminations. Did I hear" tacky ? "
Maybe Jeannie's wee fibre optic extravaganza will have a similar cheering effect on her. She's still struggling a bit just to breathe. Her cardiologist has asked to see her tomorrow or is it today already ? He just might be able to shine some light on the reason for this difficulty and relieve in time for some hearty, wheezeless carol singing .
By the way, there is now an email link on the personal profile page or click here macdoodle5@btinternet.com.

Ugh ! Mmmmmmm

The very kind Pauline, our district nurse who comes to draw blood at home now, brought an assortment of food supplements in cartons. However, our gourmand has given them the thumbs down. No Egon Ronay stars here, then.
After a severe bodily offensive brought on by a sip or two of fresh orange at the weekend we had all but given up hope of finding tid-bits to tempt the master's palette.
Until, that is, little Ruth - no longer three but four - wished to extend her maturing culinary skills into the art of jelly making. With the help of Granny Morag a row of perfectly pink, perfectly wobbly mini munros were created - perfect possets for the poorly.
The man's taste buds stirred. Memories of childhood comforts flooded back - toast soldiers, fish poached in milk and butter, custard and baked rice. The magic worked. Irresistible served with vanilla ice-cream and supped with a silvery long stemmed spoon, the jelly went down a treat . Not much, but a start. Enough to give a wee energy boost fo a walk across Tower Gardens with Jeannie.
The Great Diet Redifinition continued today with a mouthful of Dotty's exceedingly good home made coffee and walnut gateau and an oatcake.
Any recipes, Johnny ? We know you're out there. Maybe an Ardbeg smoothie or Lord of the Isles syllabub ?

Sip, Sip.

Its the right time of day for it and well deserved.
Mrs Mac has spent an hour or so at his behest, in Macfarlane's den - aka the attic. Rarely is she permited into that inner sanctum that is the epitome of a man's domestic care skills - but that is where he spirited away the Christmas decorations.
The chaos there found was enough to drive a woman to drink. Do men posess a tidyness gene ?
Deafened by the silence she's off to find solace in a recuperative steal of the man's Ardbeg............
" Deck the halls with boughs of holly....tra la la la..... la la la la la "

Healthy Eating Plan

What could be worse to a pair of foodies than a total loss of appetite ?
As far as Macfarlane is concerned no food is good food at the moment. Rivaling Jack Sprat's claim to fame for an absence of fat in his diet D is avoiding all things edible and vaguely nutritious. Looks like at least one turkey will live to fight another day this Christmas. Slice of chipolata, anyone ?

Two Haiku for You

......and a Chagall













First snow
falling
on the half-finished bidge.

Matsuo Busho


Not quite dark yet
and the stars shining
above the withered fields.

Yosa Buson

A Week in the Journey

We continue to be aMAZEd by the daily challenge to find new directions in our lifestyle. To try it for yourself double click over the image for a bigger picture then right click for the option to save or print.
Bon voyage !

Breaking News

What an eventful week !
Jeannie comes home as the Rest-Bite Seekers head to sophisticated luxury.
The nurses at the Western achieve vampire status and request leeches to replace ineffectual syringes.
Mags pens "Travels on the M9 - Mists and Landmarks" plus "Styles and Techniques in Bloodletting or How to Avoid Repetative Stab Injury".
Mac disappears under a cloud of Cumulo Nimbus wool and needles but emerges nightly to swim under the stars at Gleneagles.Did we really sit on the same jacuzzi seat as Tony Blair et al ?
Snow blizzards and sunshine highlight the true eccentricities of the Scottish Weather.
Fun and reminiscences with Beanbaggers Reunited.
Rain and Rugby, Leithers and All-Blacks meet at the ultimate Murrayfield experience.
Last but not least Macs IRU reading maintains therapeutic level. No clinic on Sunday ! Excellent ! - The promise of a long, long, cosy lie ....zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.....

Respite

Jeannie.'s still in the Royal showing signs of improvement.Fingers crossed she'll be back in her own cosy wee house soon. Macfarlane's like a black and blue pin cushion . He is apparently attempting to enter the Guiness Book of Records for aquiring the greatest number of little round elastoplasts in a single visit to the DVT clinic. Although his efforts will continue over the next week some respite will be had in the luxury of Gleneagles. For the next few days home will be in one of the beautiful and peaceful Glenmor Lodges nearby the Hotel.The daily soujourn to hospital may be a little more tolerable from this restful perspective. Can the route via Stirling have the edge over Seafield ? A close run competition methinks not. We've got the streamers to hang out the window like bairns on a Sunday School trip. Byeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.

Here's the Rub

Last night's entertainment rating at the Western scores a big zero. Their Acute Assessment Department does not have the nail-biting drama of "ER"or the downtrodden glamour of "Chicago Hope". Interminable waiting in grubby corridors under the acid light of fluorescent bulbs does little to comfort the spirit or dispel the despair that is born of under-resourcing. Care, on the other hand , is exemplary, when your turn - finally arrives. The next act was rewritten with Mac playing the leading role. Tomorrow would be another day.
This morning the medical staff were up to date with Mac's recent clinical history. An ultra sound scan was performed with great efficiency. It confirmed the prognosis. There is indeed a largish clot in the right leg. In all likelihood the fragments found in the lungs had originated there.
A stay in hospital for continuous monitoring didn't go beyond a stage whisper. Given the time warp we inhabit nowadays the consensus was to give us as much time together as possible. However the decision to put him on Warfarin is complicated by his cancer and the other drugs he is prescribed. The side effects are potentially dangerous and must be addressed on a daily basis. Now we are faced with the inevitable corollary. Every morning, including weekends, Macfarlane must attend the Western's Out-patient Department. This will continue for as long as "necessary ".
Though to accommodate this will require a further review of our lifestyle most promblems can be resolved. Warfarin's propensity to interact adversely with alcohol might well affect the Macfarlane war cry " Mair Drink " with regard to his own imbibing. He will continue to encourage others while satisfying himself with the odd medicinal dose of - yes - the old Ardbeg. Encore Slainte !

Hiccups

Mac appears to have developed deep vein thrombosis. A scan at the Western in the morning should confirm the best course of action. Doc is puzzled since he is already on anti - coagulant drugs. Prayers please.

Remember This ?

What we once wanted for Christmas and some of us actually got !
Gear for the " Western " ?
Yee Ha !

Clan Cuddles and Cairryoots

Mr So's cairryoot proved a great hit with the gathered Macfarlane clan. Big Sis Duff provided the most hospitable table. With fine food and "plenty drink " - the Macfarlane alternative war cry - a great night of banter was assured. Wee Brother was in good form having just visited Jeannie at the ERI and left her with a few extra stitches. Those sewn by laughter seem to produce better oxygen levels in blood than the nebuliser by her bed. Shame we couldn't have returned later with the left overs. The food there would struggle to put even a smattering of a smile on anyone's face. Has the Health Service something to learn from the enduring culinary and business accumen of folk like Mr So ?
The Char Sui with ginger proved a particular with Frank - but, sadly for him - everyone else savoured it too. Likewise, the red wine. Cheers !

The Grand Old Duke of York

"....and when they were up they were up, and when they were down they were down......."
We are rarely in that now enviable state of being neither up nor down. With magnificent effort Macfarlane has polished his spirits to a near normal - if not quite Medallion Man - shine. On the other hand Jeannie has suffered a bit of a setback. Back in intensive care, her condition is being constantly monitored. If only the "Ardbeg effect" would work for her we could all stop worrying.
Perhaps a surrogate dram or two will do the trick. Slainte !.

Weather Report

The Indian Summer that has brought us beautiful mild days and starry skies has deserted us tonight. Strident northerly winds have brought lashing rain and biting cold - a foretaste redolent with Winter bitterest charms. A slight shiver has reminded us of our vulnerability.
Mum and Macfarlane are feeling the chill. The rain could clear in the next day or two, but temperatures will worsen, we are told. Time to light the chiminea, maybe.

Mac-Do-Well -and Jeannie too

Though delighted to hear that the oncologlist did not expect to see him again until January, Macfarlane finds himself a little embarased that he may now be considered to be malingering !!! The Murrayfield Party may not be a wake after all ! And it sounds like Christmas dinner could be at our house again.
Energy continues to ebb , but these fine Autumn days have helped raise both our spirits.It is perfect weather for sitting with a flask of coffee and a sandwich at Port Seton harbour. There is something timeless in the spirit of the place. Simple pleasures,close to home - and another reason to feel blessed. Long may it continue.

Voila !

- For those still tied in knots - in spite of Ardbeg's theft of our thunder -
Some will prefer the power of the image over the written word , especially if you're tied up in upside down and back-to-front knots - Here's the way to do it.

While you're thus engaged Mac and I are off to the Western for a wee round with Dr Ironside. Would that she could give us such an easy route back to health. We're still tired and a bit befuddled by life's contortions.Watch this space.

So Far, So Good

Both Mum and Macfarlane doing well.
Mum less than 24hours after, says hello.
Mac watching footie again with a dram of Lord o' the Isles.

Try this one at home

Get a sense of life at No.5
Try this with a very thick, hot, scratchy,wooly jumper and an extra long string.
Make the image bigger by clicking over it.

Heart of the Mater

At last Jeannie's heart is beating a little faster. Nearly a year after the six week wait she was told to expect, Mum is to be operated on this Wednesday at the new Royal Infirmary - not one, not two, but three bypasses in one frightening splurge.
Although she has been encouraged to tak' a wee dram to calm any pre-op nerves on Tuesday night she would appear to be "aff it". Indeed , sad to say she has never been on it. She has not yet learned to appreciate " the Macfarlane effect " that is the therapeutic miracle of the Ardbeg. So say your prayers, light your candles, cross your fingers, rub your crystals, do whatever you do best to bring her into the fold - or at least recommend a good sherry.

Sting in the Tale

Sunday's tale from Murrayfield would suggest that stovies and Ardbeg had indeed been rubbed in to the Edinburgh boys before play. The Wasps found that their sting was all but useless in penetrating the Gunners' defences. At last Macfarlane and Co felt more than smattering of pride that their loyal support had been rewarded. Even the dreich conditions did not dampen the celebratory mood on their return home. Indeed they did not stint in their own efforts to refine the recipe for success - a wee dram or two of " The Lord of the Isles " anyone ?

Comments

If you are having trouble leaving a comment, try this.
Click on the comments link at the bottom of each posting . A new window should open. Type your comment in the box and sign it. Click "anonymous" but be sure your name is on the comment so we know who you are. Fill in the "word verification" then click "Preview" When preview shows you'll be given a second chance to Publish.
If all else fails you can make contact by email using the link on my profile page as well as at the bottom of some posts - like this one.
mailto:macdoodle5@btinternet.com
We appreciate your visit. Many thanks.

In Spite of Scottish Football..........

Watching Scotland play football and a double dose of chemo seem to have a similar effect on the Macfarlane psyche......Not good ! Both create a swamp of despair that can only be imagined by those of us who are not afflicted with the blight of sporting passions.
It is fortunate that his viewing of Sky Sport is limited to invitation only. God forbid that he should install a dish at home - present company excepted, of course. As the guest of fellow masochists he is assured of their collusion in the perpetration of primitive first aid Self inflicted psychological injuries are treated in time honored tradition - huge therapeutic doses of Ardbeg and stovies. The healing qualities of both make a formidable combination. Have the British Medical Council been told about this ?
So in spite of dire Scottish football, energy is returning, slowly and surely. His wife, on the other hand is a martyr to the dubious comedy from his slagging tongue as it regains some of its former whiplash wit.
"That's no funny Dan......."

Hard Facts and Bitter Pills

There are so many preconceptions about cancer. Recently we find ourselves faced with questions that stem from a huge confusion of interpretations. Anecdotes of hope and tragedy confront us out of context from a particular diagnosis. Our roller-coaster learning ride has forced us to acknowledge that there is little mileage in avoiding the unpleasant answers - or in dreaming about unrealistic outcomes. Frightening and traumatic though some details are, we have found support in the objective insights of the oncology team at the Western General Cancer Unit. Their clinical advice has been commendably professional administered with an essentially human touch.

The hard facts of Macfarlane's cancer were spelt out on 15th July this year - his birthday. " Lucky white heather " he said.
It started with a bad headache towards the end of June. Along with that there were mild hallucinations and a few disturbing " deja-vu "experiences. These we have learned to call "events".
He visited his GP on a Friday morning. With devastating efficiency his GP organised a CT scan on Monday at 10am in the Western General. By mid- day we new what we were dealing with was " not good news " . Arrangements were made immediately for further tests and by the next Friday we knew the worst.
Grade 4 cancer was diagnosed. There is no grade 5. Deadly clusters of tumors had spread to the brain from a primary growth on the lung. It had metasised into the blood stream through the lymph glands and now threatens all the vital organs. The prognosis is rarely worse. It blew through our lives like a hurricane, devastating all that we thought safe, established. Normal service would not be resumed as soon as possible. Survival would depend on our emotional fortitude, our ability to adapt to the radically altered environment of our well-being. We are learning that the fight against such odds is not about applying Hollywood heroics, or being foolhardy in defining ambitious targets for an uncertain future. The real effort comes in living for the moment, maintaining the commonplace, the routine, now that all the usual touchstones have been torn cruelly from our grasp.

We count ourselves privileged that we have such a wide circle of caring, loving family and friends. So many of you have added richness to our life with simple practical support. The kitchen elf , the cooking elves, the ironing fairy, the scone fairy, the chauffeuring fairies, the laughing emailers, the building maintenance squad, the hospitality angels, the nothings- too -much trouble brigade, the tireless listeners, - and on, and on, and on.

Thank - you.

PS. The Maggie Centre has been a great source of support. They'll give personalized help to anyone with issues on any aspect of living with cancer. www.maggiescentres.org

Nice Weather

Driving through a jar of Robinson's Golden Shred is very therapeutic. The Borders countyside is a riot of golds, flaming oranges and reds. The hospitality in Melrose is warm and luxurious.
We feel quite blessed.

Border Break

'S, Melrose for a wee break - Honeymoon time, maybe.

Health bulletin

Latest on Macfarlane.
After a couple of months lost in the chemical quagmire, Macfarlane has opted to "kick the chemo into touch ". Side effects were extraordinarily debilitating and were giving only marginal clinical advantage. Taking back the reins has given him a boost of energy and will to fight the cancer, not the chemistry. His belief is that by being awake instead of chronically fatigued he can live more fully the time he has left. Given the practical and emotional support of family and friends he just might defy the odds in this intrepid gamble. Early indications are very positive - he has started to sing in the shower again.