16th March 2008
Well, we raised over £700 with our Boogie Nights party.  The entertainment was top class with singer, Mr Glenny Vee, sounding great and looking good too – I think he was dressed as Elvis and then Britney Spears at one point but I was hurriedly tearing up strips of raffle tickets and folding them up in time for the raffle and missed it all.  The belly dancers were fantastic and I had to chuckle when I looked round at the faces of the male spectators who were all transfixed and wide eyed.  We all danced our socks off too.  Thanks to everyone who supported us.

I did a spot of public speaking again and really enjoyed it – remember this is the lady who always had palpitations and hyperventilated whenever she had to speak publicly.  With a few half pints of John Smith I turned into Huey Green.  We had an impromptu fancy dress judging and I was enjoying commentating and thinking I might find myself a career in entertainment until I discovered I was actually partially deaf and stupid too.  I asked the winner his name and announced him first as ‘Very’ (Very what?!) and then ‘Berry’ before he finally had to spell it out to me and I realised he was in fact called ‘Perry’.  I was tempted to ignore him and announce him as ‘Bob’ by this point.  It was great fun watching the contestants strutting their stuff for the audience to judge their outfits.  They all looked great (see Tristan Poyser’s photos at www.breastquest2008.co.uk).

I finally got to bed at 4am.  I couldn’t have slept before this as I was on a high, in full party mode and still enjoying wearing my long, black wig and flared trouser suit.  We sat drinking wine and eating non organic Pringles and dairy filled Carrot Cake by the fire for a while.  Later my guests went to bed and I saw my neighbour was still in party mode too, (we waved at each other from our kitchens), so, I popped round for a chat.  We decided that due to popular request we may have to hold another Boogie Nights.

I had an appointment with the surgeon at the hospital about the back muscle problem in my breast, (confusing eh?!), and he said the tightness was due to the effects of the radiotherapy from 6 months ago.  If the problem doesn’t right itself with time I can have some nerves cut to fix it.  I was advised swimming would help and I was also strongly advised to avoid flexing my breast – so that’s the end of my party trick!  The lady from the ‘Flick a Tit’ blog popped into my mind after this piece of advice and I thought she should be warned against it too. 

Then I flew off to France for a break to visit my parents for a week.  I meant to visit last year but cancer treatment and nursing studies took over and bound me to Nottingham all year.  It was good to go away, visit my family and see old friends but it felt strange to be returning to the place where I spent a whole 7 years of my life after such a long absence.  Memories flooded back and I felt quite nostalgic about it all.  The longest love affair I’ve ever had is with France.  It’s been ongoing for some 35 years!  I remember looking out of a car at French corn fields when I was a 17 year old and saying to myself, “One day, I’m going to live in this country”.  And I did; I lived there as a student for a year when I was 20 and later I spent a further 7 years living and working in France before returning to the UK in 1999.  I may even go back one day.

I dropped in on old friends and was updated on news – apparently all my exes are now married and have children which is good.  One friend asked me why I hadn’t married and I drew a bit of a blank.  Over the years friends and family have offered their own explanations for my spinster status.  These include the following:

a. I am too difficult or choosy.
b. I am discerning.
c. I have moved around too much to ever settle down.
d. I am too difficult or choosy.

I think I can tick all of the above probably.  In the end, I opened my mouth to give an intelligent reply and said, “I think I must be crap at relationships,”. My friend then kindly offered the explanation that I haven’t found the right man yet.  According to an 11 year old I know, I am “a single pringle” and when I find the right man I will then become “a taken bacon”.  More recently I’ve been wondering if I have in fact become a brazil nut.  I have developed a hard shell over the last year and am “looking out” for Lou.  This is good on the one hand but also badly timed as I met a lovely guy who was not afraid to say he wanted to be with me and was fully supportive of all I am doing.  He even understood when I kept changing our plans because of work commitments and motorbike training.  I feel sad but decided to carry on as a nut until after Breast Quest 2008 and then, when I have more time, I’ll get myself some nut crackers.

The sun shone in France and I put on my running shoes and ran puffing heavily through the countryside.  I soon realised it wasn’t quite as flat as it seems from the car and my shins ached from running uphill.  We drank aperitifs in the sun and chatted with the French as we watched tractors and the occasional hunter, with his gun pass by.  I noticed the hunters, (‘chasseurs’), have bowed to legislation and are now wearing fluorescent accessories such as orange caps. This was after fatalities occurring each year where some nephew or other, (heavily camouflaged like Rambo), would mistake his uncle, (also camouflaged as Rambo), for a wild boar and shoot at him through a bush.  At some point, someone realised animals are in fact colour blind and are therefore oblivious to Rambo camouflage.  Ironically, the chasseurs were only succeeding in hiding from each other which can be quite dangerous when you are carrying a loaded gun.  When I left France in 1999, there was talk of chasseurs having to wear fluorescent pink clothing and it wasn’t going down well at all.

The pace of life is 0 to 60 in 2 years.  It can take a while to adjust to this.  I spent much of my holiday eating.  We paid just £8 for a fantastic 5 course lunch and my trousers grew too tight.  I have been nicknamed ‘Pac Man’ by a friend and developed a muffin top and was undoing my trousers whenever it was safe to do so.  At night, there is complete silence in the French countryside except for the owls hooting occasionally or Cranes calling as they fly back north for the spring and summer.  It can take a while to grow used to the silence too.  I eased myself back into this relaxed lifestyle and even joined the local aerobics class in the village hall where I turned out to be the youngest person there!  The average age was probably 65 and they all seemed very well covered up – one lady wore a polo neck.  I kept my tracksuit top on to fit in and sweated a lot as a consequence.  They played songs by the Stylistics and some of the older ladies had to steady themselves against a wall whenever they lifted one leg off the ground to stop themselves from falling over.  Sometimes they would just take a seat and watch.  I could hear a lot of “Ooooph’s!” and a few “Oh la la’s!” as I grinned my way through the class.

That reminds me – I made someone grin on the skylink bus on my way to the airport.  I sat next to a very smartly dressed older man who was going to Pisa.  I must first explain that I was on my way to Limoges which is famous for its porcelain and I was feeling a little tired after a late night.  The man turned to me and asked if I was going anywhere exotic.  I replied, “Not really, I’m off to Limoges to see my parents”. “Oh, that’s quite exotic.”, he replied. “Tell me – are they still into their pottery over there?”  I thought it strange that he knew my parents so well and replied, “Not really, I think they’re more into gardening and DIY these days”.  Then I had a hot flush as I realised my stupidity!  I still blame my mum – she phoned me the other day and told me she was looking on the internet for a recipe for “parsnip snoup”.

Well, I have finally qualified as a Nurse and I’m not working at Asda yet.  I have an interview for a job as a Community Nurse which is what I want to do.  It’s been a long time coming after I had to take a break for treatment last year so I’m feeling very relieved. 

As for Breast Quest 2008 news, I have been loaned a practice bike by Granby Motors of Ilkeston and am having advanced motorcycle training from Nottingham Advanced Motorcyclists in preparation for our fundraising journey around Europe.  It was going so well until I broke the speedometer!  We have just decided to push the trip back to July due to work commitments, weather concerns and training.  It will also coincide better with breast cancer awareness month in October.

Finding sponsors is hard work!  I take my hat off to all charity fundraisers everywhere, I didn’t realise just what it entailed before our challenge but I am determined to make this work.  There is still space for sponsors on my t-shirt, helmet  and anywhere else on my person that I can fit company names – please visit our website for details of how to sponsor us at: www.breastquest2008.co.uk!

Next blog – the low down on the bike and how plans for the trip are progressing!  Exciting developments! Watch this space!