SWIMMING IN DE NILE

By Ali Bodie
Contact the author by e-mail at christopher.johnstone@ntlworld.com

An update if you read my previous article..I finished dramatically after doing my swim from Holy Isle only to be told my breast cancer had set up home in my bones. I'm mostly floating on the River De Nile enjoying my life vastly, partying, shopping, doing up my house, swimming a lot, I did two miles the other week. I've been swimming in Portobello Beach [on 5th January it wasn't so much the cold but the toilet paper that defeated me], swimming in the Atlantic in April, ok, in Portugal. [I swam on my birthday,turned over and over like a happy seal savouring the ocean,lovely!] and in the sea at Kildonan last month,I have to say that was a trifle chilly. I'm swimming to Pladda this month, apparently dangerous but not going alone.

I'm training myself not to go faster but to glide through the water without stirring it. The staff at Livingwell in Dunkeld train me hard, shout at me if I dare stop for a blether. The 26th Sept is the date of my next big Swim between Holy Isle and Lamlash. I think we have 12 swimmers so far, looking forward to the party afterwards!

Having metastases has its good points, all your friends love you, you don't have to save for old age, its kindof like your birthday most days.There is the odd glitch though,when you fall through the thin ice of Cipralex into the real murky waters below, then it hurts. I'm leaving my family, I'm perhaps losing mySELF, that's so weird. Medicine keeps us going, but we are still paying the emotional bills of the first time around and then it comes back relentlessly,and we know from bitter experience what the future may hold. I have totem poles of self help books around my bed, I read them nightly, I saw His Holiness The Dalai Lama last week in Glasgow with Marion Easton and David and Jane Easton, but last night I read a Buddhist book that said we lose ourselves when we die,that terrifies me.....I just want to be a fairy or a mermaid and to pop into my families’ lives to catch up on them occasionally! Or a fly, what an interesting life that would be, eariwigging in on everyones' lives, I love a bit of gossip. Trouble is I would only be able to repeat it to other flies, ahh, I better rethink this...

My pet psychic, Gordon, told me, in the Jacuzzi, [whilst impersonating the shark from Jaws - alarming..], that you can be anything you like in the Realm of the Absolute. I like that..I asked if I could come back as me as I've got loads of stuff I'd like another shot at, I like my body and I've grown accustomed to my face. He said no,so we had a long debate about freedom of choice etc on the Other Side. When I get there I'm going to complain. I planted a tree at the end of my garden for my neighbour to remember me by, the man at the local Nursery warned me that it will grow to be huge in twenty years, I said that was just fine, I'm not keen on my neighbour and quite like the idea of leaving her a big tree to spoil her sunbathing when she's sixty five.

His Holiness might not approve, this Buddhist thing is really cramping my style,I keep thinking "God I mustn't do that!" Bad Karma you see? My tussle with BUPA rambles on and on.

Apparently one is covered in full for cancer, good news, but there's a catch, if you don't live in Glasgow, Edinburgh or Aberdeen there ain't no private oncologists, [big parts of rest of UK uncovered too] and without a BUPA registered oncologist (onc) you cannot access BUPA for cancer, who knew? A good tip though...you CAN refer a cancer patient to a private psychiatrist who can pass on a referral to a BUPA registered psychologist, my terms give me £1000 a year to spend on this! It comes out of my "other diseases" budget for things that are not covered in full [cancer is] BUPA do not include your mind in cancer treatment. Bizarre. I got much of this info from Kevin at BUPA, it is one of my wee amusements to call him when I'm bored. Kevin reckons a certain BMI hospital in Scotland must be excellent because his wife liked the one in Manchester. I have nothing to say to this logic. When I was first diagnosed Norwich Union refused me a wig saying it was not necessary, they considered it a frivilous vanity. It was a prosthesis and at that time they did not cover prosthetics. The NHS however provides for a wig in Scotland.

I have a fantasy phone call in my head to Kevin if and when I lose my hair again.
Me "I need a wig"
Kevin "We don't do wigs Madam, buy a baseball hat, all cancer patients wear them"
Me"Can I have a cranial prosthesis then?
" Kevin "We don't do prosthetics Madam"
Me" Ok then...can I have a merkin?
" Kevin "What's a merkin?"
Me "Its a sort of wig"
Kevin "We don't do wigs Madam"
Me "You don't cover Merkins? That's terrible! It's a disgrace Kevin, so it is, and you running that advert about ".....I found a lump and BUPA took care of it?" I'll write about this Kevin!"
Kevin, yawning "Yes you told me that last time Madam"
(Link for Kevin and all those not au fait with merkins..... http://www.straightdope.com/classics/a3_232.html)

Its June now, and I'm going to the wedding of a French footballer, Jerome who is marrying my friend Louise who is daughter of Dr Bill Connor of Stirling, all big hats and posh frocks on Sunday, then off to Arran for blissful peace and beachcombing with The Moll in tow rolling on dead things and seagull poo [the dog I mean not moi, I went to school in Kilmalcolm, I know how to behave]. Inverness next weekend for the Highland Cross but only if I can tear myself away from Arran, always hard. On 24th June I go for CT and MRI of chest and abdomen, I more or less know there is more cancer on the other side, I know its 3.5 cm and looks like a node, I'm trying to live in the moment. And finally a poem that says it all for me.... I cannot run, I know that from the last encounter. There is no defence, but to seek to pass through. My pulse is strong, the months I have spent in healing are to be tested now. I do not want this encounter, this unwelcome second half- Stalking me stinging me with pain, tearing at me, ripping my years away I do not want this dance. See you all on Sept 26th at the pier at Lamlash, I'll be wearing my new triathlon wetsuit, you'll know me by my podgy bod poured into black rubber; it ain't over 'till the fat girl sinks.

Ali xxxxxx

Other hoolet online articles by Ali Bodie can be found at:
hoolet edition 49 - Perched on her Electric Chair
hoolet edition 48 - A Different Holy Aisle
hoolet edition 47 - Swimming up the Aisle
hoolet edition 46 - Support Groups and New York, New York
hoolet edition 45 - Cancer, Attitudes, The Cure... Not!
hoolet edition 44 - Cat In a Bag
hoolet edition 43 - Swimming Against the Tide
hoolet edition 42 - Swimming to the Holy Isle
hoolet edition 41 - Swimming In De Nile
hoolet edition 40 - Breast Lumps and Swimming

hoolet is the magazine of RCGP Scotland. It is supported intellectually, financially and emotionally by RCGP Scotland.

This issue maintained by Robert Hallam.