Farnley Lines

USUALLY I face the prospect of finding something of interest to write about with trepidation. My muse is often reluctant to be summoned and when eventually she shows herself she remains somewhat shy.

Not today. Life since last I wrote has been dominated by my treatment for aggressive prostate cancer. However, even here I am hesitant for some could view it as self indulgent and others will have had similar or more serious experiences which have not been broadcast. I shall therefore, attempt to write about my own by discussing or describing wider issues.

The basic details are that in addition to my three monthly hormone injections I attended the Velindre Cancer Hospital in Cardiff for 20 sessions of radiotherapy which were spread over five weeks; bank holidays, weekends and a machine breakdown explain the extended period. The actual treatment lasted for only around six minutes on average but a 52 mile round trip, the compulsory water intake, delays and frequent awful driving conditions on the M4 meant around three hours each time.

Not that I ever had any cause to complain. The staff were outstanding in every respect. There are seven machines operating usually from 7 am to 7 pm with 15 minutes allowed for each

DAVE BUSH

patient; simple to calculate the thoughput. And then there is the chemo section in another part of the building!

I was grateful that son Alan and daughter Catherine were able to take me a few times and particularly delighted that granddaughter Anna accompanied me on my final visit. This meant she was able to video my ringing of the sessions-completed bell located near the exit. I wonder if any other hospital has anything similar. When the bell is rung those in the reception area - and they can number around fifty – burst into applause. I returned to thank them and was greeted with supportive calls. All very moving.

Let me elaborate on the wider issues referred to earlier. I was told the radiotherapy machines cost between one and two million pounds each. Even more sophisticated ones are becoming available inevitably at even greater cost. Advances in so many other areas of medicine gather pace. As the population ages, we all want bodies of 20-year-olds. OK I’ll settle for 50.

The point I wish to make is that no matter how much money is pumped into the much maligned NHS it will never be enough to satisfy Joe or Josephine Bloggs’ demands. We have to accept certain limitations and be grateful; I certainly am. As for the re - sults of my treatment … again I must be a patient patient.

Badminton

Inevitably there have been side effects. With a glass of Rioja and a rich imagination I can summon up a formidable list. The principle one is fatigue. In the garden or at the allotment it’s usually ten minutes’ work and five minutes’ rest. However, I have missed only one badminton session. I should add that I play a very gentle game or two having chosen a lively partner. My preferred one has been Lee. A very talented sportsman he had an operation for a deep seated brain tumour before Christmas. He returned to play quite regularly until recently. He is now undergoing a prolonged period of both chemo and radiotherapy and we shall not be seeing him for some time. He is 31. Health matters into perspective and all that.

I have been chairman of Porthcawl Badminton Club for nearly 20 years, mainly because nobody else will take on the role. Over the last three months we have been confronted with a real problem. Too many players! One week 26 turned up. Something had to be done. A pegboard has appeared, games are played to fifteen rather than twenty-one and there is a waiting list to join. We now have a club shirt which features our logo. The latter I believe is brilliant. It was produced by Viv Thomas’ son, a graphic designer. I mention Viv, as I have done previously, to let readers know that I still pick him up every week at the age of ninety two ….and a half.

Teaching today

Even though at times I try to avoid matters educational it is very difficult to do so. Our badminton club captain Alex Saunders works in a very, let us say euphemistically, ‘demanding’ school in Barry. He is a delightful and dedicated young man but has been off school for some time, the result of a nervous breakdown. His wife teaches in the same school. Threats of physical attacks on her have been made to him by one pupil in particular. The support he has received from senior management has been almost non-existent The school is now in special measures and a new head brought in. He is gradually returning to the classroom. I mention this as I am aware how difficult it has become to recruit staff at all levels especially in Maths and Science. I remember King James’s Principal, Ian Rimmer, relating how few candidates there are for headships these days. Hardly surprising when one reflects on the ever increasing pressures. Gender assignment and now AI to contend with. Will it never end? It’s a far cry from having to decide in my time if black footwear was shoes or trainers.

Badminton Club captain Alex Saunders (right), with fellow players Peter Greenwood and Will Mitchell. Alex taught at a school currently in ‘special measures’ in Barry but is only gradually returning to the classroom after suffering a nervous breakdown: a reminder of the pressures many teachers can face today.

Big Tree/Little Tree

Re-reading my contribution to our very special magazine it has all been somewhat negative. Let’s finish as always on a lighter and more positive note. Firstly Little Tree. A simple but delightful ceremony to commemorate its planting and I was very proud to see my name on the list of donors. The controversy over the demise of its predecessor, Big Tree, still rankles. I realise that it would have had to go in order for the new laboratory to be built. Yet when I read once more in ‘No Beating About The Bush’ how underhand were the machinations to ensure it was felled soon after my retirement, I still boil.

Dream on: a statue in St George’s Square in honour of Neil Warnock? After their ‘great escape’ the Terriers ended the season 7th from the bottom of the Championship. [Correction: 18th from the top. Ed]

Arise, Lord Warnock!

That was only partially ‘a lighter note’. To football with my beloved Lincoln City finishing in the second highest position in forty years. A minor achievement I hear all you Huddersfield Town fanatics shouting, compared with The Terriers’ Great Escape. I have never been a Town fan but having so many friends who are, inevitably I followed their fortunes very closely. I hear there is a move afoot to replace the statue in St Georges’ Square of Sir Harold Wilson with one of temporary manager, Neil Warnock . He succeeded; while Sir Harold failed – in his desire to join Almondbury Grammar School.

Stop press

I have just received the latest results from a blood test. They show that my Prostate Specific Antigen (PSA) level has dropped from 37.8 to less than 0.1 – in other words ‘normal’. Naturally I am elated. I still suffer side effects, but this is not unusual. The hormone injections will continue indefinitely but the prognosis is excellent. I’m so grateful for all the kindnesses shown by fellow Old Almondburians. n