Cape Town: Is it time to lean on the fat?

How addiction hobbles our chances

Walking through a cancer hospital to the department where you are receiving treatment reveals a world of great suffering, the unerring will of humanity to survive, the purveyance of hope for which the only currency of purchase is faith that could waver depending on prognosis, pain, confidence, or despair; it is a teaching and humbling moment.

How I have wanted to walk out of that hospital and snatch a cigarette from the lips of a young smoker totally oblivious of what cancer does to the body and how the odds one faces with cancer depends of what it is, where is has been found, if it has spread and if there is a body of knowledge and expertise available to give you a chance to survive.

Then, I do not have to walk far to realise how much of a hold tobacco and nicotine has over people. As at a designated area near the entrance of the same cancer hospital, you will find patients undergoing cancer treatment huddling in corners for another drag of the poison already killing them. They give themselves no chances at all, and if they come through, good for them.

This is obese in plain sight

In Cape Town, there was something we could not unsee, when we stay in Cape Town, we try as much as possible to walk everywhere and everything is within walking distance. Even on days I did not seem to have the strength or the capacity, I made my daily 10,000 steps.

Walking alongside us or coming into view from our vantage point of observation was someone carrying just that extra extra bit of weight on their hips, their bellies, and usually both, then arms and thighs; sights to make you catch your breath.

What you cannot deny is there is an obesity problem which should be registering somewhere in the South African healthcare system. There cannot be any aesthetic value to wanting to tip the scales until the springs broke.

How you address this obvious health crisis will no doubt require tact, wisdom, and some innovative policy initiatives, it should not be ignored. You could see people who could barely move, some were panting every few steps and I cannot put a statistical value on those who might have already acquired diseases of the heart, the kidneys, the pancreas, the liver, and other related serious health problems because of this excess weight.

The fast in fast-food is weight

One other observation we made when we were in Muizenberg, some 25 kilometres from Cape Town, with long stretches of beautiful beaches that more deserted than walked, was the number of delivery bikes that attended our estate at all hours, as if most did no home cooking, but relied on fast food. We do most of our cooking, from quick preparations like stir fries to slow cooking activities, it is about the willingness and timing.

In town, the fast-food outlets are full, taking orders for tables and takeaways for patrons and the ubiquitous delivery bikers, God forfend we dignify those places with the moniker of restaurant. They offer you something to masticate and swallow, but none of it is of value to your body and if you do not work it off, it sits somewhere in your body and accumulates in fatty tissue.

Maybe the new miracle weight-loss drugs might bring respite to the South Africans we saw and give them a fighting chance, but it also must include some desire and the will to do something about it.

While everyone is free to celebrate their bodies and love who they are, while not being shamed for what they have become, we need to square the circle between feeling good and being healthy. That will not come by lying to be nice.

Ain't no stopping the Gen X Diamond Jubilee now

Luther Vandross - Ain't No Stoppin' Us Now (Live from Royal Albert Hall)

The starting gun

2025, our year has come, we are the first of the Generation X (Gen X) cohort born from 1965 to 1980 will celebrate our 60^th birthday. What a generation we were and still are, some lost, some already grandparents, if not great-grandparents, others singularly amazing charting paths of adventure living experiences only few could imagine.

My sojourn began as 1965 was closing, earlier in the year, Sir Winston Churchill had passed on, my parents were new arrival students in the United Kingdom, and I was not expected until late March 1966, I guess I was readier to see the world before the conventional schedule.

Through my own eyes

The things I can recall from childhood are from the age of three, a birthday, days out with Joy at the arboretum, and encounters instigated by mum to attend white garment prayer meetings. Superstition has a way of sticking to you regardless of where you end up.

Of the things I do not remember but I learnt of or were told was England won the World Cup in 1966, I always entered a room and addressed everyone, “Ladies & Gentlemen”, some other funny, quirky, and interesting things, my precocity, the penchant for making conversation with strangers, our imagination knew no bounds.

The Nigeria I experienced after the Civil War was prospering, we returned to live in the north, in Kaduna & Jos, environments so familiar to my mother who had her childhood in northern Nigeria too. My schools were an international tapestry of diversity where most of the Black kids were born abroad and those of other races were born in Nigeria. We had the English accents.

Life is a story of stories

Yet, what experiences life has brought us in stories of adversity and triumph, we are at an age that when our parents breached 50, we thought they were over the hill and far away. Now that we are mostly 59 and some have already clocked 60 in the past week, we still hold on to as much of the youthfulness we can retain, and finding out that the world has changed so much as we have changed with the world.

According to the Britannica website, “Gen X is known for being resourceful, independent, and good at maintaining work-life balance. They were the first generation to grow up with personal computers and tend to have liberal views on social issues.” [Britannica: Generation X]

Let the diamond jubilees begin

Much as we would take advantage of the benefits of becoming sixty in our various domains, we are hardly the retiring type. I know, some of us want to return to university to do different courses, we have ideas we still want to implement, it is unlikely we’ll be shuffled off into irrelevance when we have such a resource of knowledge and experience to share, just as we are learning new things.

For our children and grandchildren, you will see a new kid on the block, easy to converse and have a good relationship with, willing to try things that would astound onlookers. That sense of fun, a bit of insouciance with youthful exuberance and the refusal to be too groan (grown) up to participate is something you will see a lot of.

Yes, we will be respectable and wild, snobbish and chilled, confident and ingenue, expert and tyro, growing younger as the numbers suggest we might be older. Thankfully, we are not the Baby Boomers, we are the change makers who have a purpose for living the best we can be, and we know it. You are about to see a Gen X revelation, ain’t no stopping us now.

Welcome to Gen X at 60, it is going to be a long year of diamond jubilee parties.

Photons on the Prostate - XVI

Sleep forsakes thee

It is probably time for an update regarding how I am recuperating following radiotherapy, I am up this early because I was up for most of the night, one side effect that I have not given much consideration is insomnia. I sleep to have to catch sleep whenever I can, but it messes up my day because I cannot concentrate fully on what I need to do.

For this, I should find the lifestyle adjustments that would help me sleep consistently and better in what are supposed to be the normal sleeping hours. I am careful about medically induced sleep, in fact, I have shunned offers of this kind of medication for over 15 years, especially when multiple medications then caused drowsiness, it all adds up and you want to wake up too.

Soon after radiotherapy, I also had Codeine prescribed as part of my pain management, as Codeine metabolises into Morphine, I was all too aware of the addictiveness and issues with withdrawal. I only used Codeine at night and just once a day. As soon as the pain and discomfort had eased, I began to wean myself off Codeine and I did it in a week.

Straining to pee

The bladder and urinary issues are much improved, I am on medication for benign prostate hyperplasia, basically prostate enlargement firstly due to cancer and the resulting inflammation after radiotherapy.

The urinary flow is better, checking with the IPSS Calculator, my IPSS score has fallen to 14, which is still moderate, but it is down from the 19 that was recorded just before I had the clinical consultation for the radiotherapy treatment option in late July. I must accept that these things take time.

I think Incomplete Emptying is not much of an issue, Frequency is moderate, Intermittency is low, Urgency is moderate, I have a Weak Stream, Straining is a feature of me being first as the urinals and the last to leave, I noticed that so many times in Cape Town, Nocturia is about thrice during the night, and I need an improvement in my urinary function.

The last question on the IPSS Calculator – “If you were to spend the rest of your life with your urinary condition just the way it is now, how would you feel about that?” Before I commenced treatment, I was Mostly Satisfied, the feeling now is Mixed, I might need an appointment with Urology to talk through these issues.

As I am running the IPSS Calculator under medication for easing prostate stress on my bladder and urinary tract, I would think without medication, the situation is much worse.

Recuperating in Cape Town

Indeed, at this time of the year, any visit to Cape Town would seem like a holiday. This visit was anything but a holiday, it was the most convenient place for Brian and I to meet, so he could support my recuperation, for I had neither the personal nor domestic care I needed at home, as the side effects of radiotherapy worsened.

It did us a world of good, a lot of rest, the summer weather, walks on the beach, cooked meals, and much loving care and attention. We ventured a couple of social events but none of the typical Capetonian holiday stuff like venturing out to wine estates or tourist traps.

I drink cranberry juice, hardly any carbonated drinks, I have eschewed alcohol, I probably have had three glasses of wine in three months and for tea, I have stuck to decaffeinated tea rather than decaffeinated coffee until I am happier with the urinary situation.

Singing for the crows

One lasting side effect is my voice, it sometimes gains strength and timbre, but I do not know if I would totally regain my original voice, or it would settle somewhere near what it was. It sounds tired and slightly feminine, there might be some underlying fatigue to it brought on by insomnia too, possibly a topic for discussion at my next medical appointment.

In all, I can report there is considerable progress, I do tire easily, but I also will myself to do things and find the capacity to get things done. That is a good update.

Reference

MedScape: International Prostate Symptom Score (IPSS) Calculator

Thought Picnic: Sometimes forgetting cancer is tough living

Misreading activity in illness

Sometimes, it takes another to bring a clear perspective to situations and things that you are in the middle of, leaving you blindsided to realities around you or impairing your objectivity and sense of judgment.

It is something you really cannot put your finger on, that you lack the mode of expression to convey. Worse still, when you find yourself writing about these issues, people might conclude everything is going well, if you can still write.

This recalls the period in late September into early October 2009, I was gravely ill and admitted to hospital and yet from my hospital bed, I was blogging, my brother assumed, if I was still blogging, I was fine. Little did anyone know that at prognosis, the worst-case scenario was I only had 5 weeks to live.

Looking on the bright side

In my two encounters with cancer, that we have taken the more positive view of a life-threatening situation does not change the fact that life hangs in the balance. Maybe the biggest battle is in the head rather than with cancer, the question being what your outlook is about a cancer diagnosis and what you hope for.

Then, even when people lose their battles with cancer, that does not mean they have not had great positivity through their ordeal, the cancer simply overwhelmed their bodies. I still aver that those of us who survive cancer have been fortunate to still be around to tell our stories, it gives us all some hope amid shifting odds.

It was quite serious

I am still grappling with the notion that in late June last year, after the diagnosis of adenocarcinoma of the prostate, I found in the doctors’ notes to each other that it was malignant. That information was never shared with me, and it took days for me to share the information with Brian. It came with a blank stare into an abyss, I did not know what to expect. I took each day as it came.

There was foreboding that anything could be the last time it was being done, but I had to put that kind of thinking away. The battle raging in my mind needed tools to see the better of things and I worked on bolstering my Christian faith by listening to sermons on faith, healing, and living well. I had to see myself getting better while a killer lurked in my reproductive system.

Just a mechanical switch

Gosh! Thanks to Wikipedia, it all makes sense now, “The prostate is an accessory gland of the male reproductive system and a muscle-driven mechanical switch between urination and ejaculation. It is found in all male mammals.” [Wikipedia: Prostate] The simplicity of a mechanical switch and the trouble I have seen, I am thankful for every great and small mercy.

I chose radiotherapy over surgery because I felt the prognosis and time to regaining the mechanical switching function having possibly lost the ejaculatory part and having little or no control of the urinary part would be long, arduous, and debilitating. Radiation would target the cancer regions, retain the switching mechanism, with varying side effects affecting bowel, bladder, and sexual function managed with medication and some lifestyle changes.

Strength even in illness and recovery

Much as I seemed to power through this experience, very few people saw the real effects and consequences of tackling this cancer apart from my partner, my closest friends, my neighbours, my colleagues as my natural voice became strained - a fatigue-laden expression, and some limited social encounters.

What I have to appreciate for myself is recovery and recuperation will take time, willing myself to do much more to regain a new sense of normalcy, I shy away from the expression, “out of the woods”, I am not in a forest of doom and despair, rather, I find myself on a journey to a wonderland of beauty, strength, and success , all obstacles giving way to a superior vehicle, the power of human faith to thrive in the midst of adversity.

While cancer is a rotten disease and the process of treatment and recovery can be debilitating, energy-sapping, and incapacitating, whatever strength one has can give one the impetus to look ahead, not because one is not ill, but there is much more to look forward to. I will not be defined by cancer; it is just part of a bigger story.

It took one friend to highlight how the last two years have been rather tough when another friend was too absorbed in himself to notice. Another story.

Homeward bound from South Africa

The weight of travel

Packing your bags is not an easy task, especially if you have three pieces of luggage to evenly distribute the weight, a rucksack with kit and medication, and suit bag.

The suit bag contained a set of pyjamas that for my recent modes of travel have not felt that convenient to wear, a jacket and scarf for the abrupt change in the weather I will encounter, and a spare set of incontinence underwear. If I may reiterate an established notion, I am a traveller, not a backpacker.

Intercontinental incontinence

When you are on a plane and there is a queue for the unisex toilets, besides rocking from foot to foot, you just want to be careful no spillage occurs before you gain access to the facilities.

On both my outbound and return journeys, it has not been that bad, and I have not had to wave my "Just Can't Wait" card. The moment I feel an urge, I do not second guess it, I make my way to the toilets.

I had scheduled my Uber pick up the night before, my assigned driver cancelled, the alternative was stationary just over a mile away for 20 minutes, and not responding to my communications, that by the time Uber suggested he was late, I was assigned a third driver who then arrived within 5 minutes of the scheduled time.

The ride to the airport was easy and fast, early morning bookings before the break of dawn can be a bargain too. He helped load and unload my luggage and I took tentative steps to the check-in counter close to the entrance.

Half a day air bound

Though I have lost my Platinum and Gold loyalty status, you still get some priority service on Silver Flying Blue status. My luggage was checked through to Manchester, and I was conveyed from the customer assistance lounge, taken through security checks and passport control to the boarding gate, then wheeled to the door of the flight where I was the second passenger to board.

Seating was comfortable enough, a slight seat recline, a lounge support for my legs, and a footrest, along with a blanket and a pillow. That was the beginning of the first leg of my journey of just 11h13, I guess I have done that a few times already.

A 3-hour stopover in Amsterdam before I board another flight to Manchester had me ensconced in the customer assistance lounge on comfortable seats. They should consider serving beverages rather than have people lumber off to the shops. A nearby toilet would be helpful too.

A chat with my support person

Then I was brought to boarding desk as one of the first to board. Arriving in Manchester, I stayed on the flight until everyone was almost off, my customer support wheelchair was up a flight of stairs and then I was conveyed to passport control and then to baggage reclaim.

The support assistant was from Somalia and after informing him of why I had travelled to South Africa, I explained why as a Black man he had to be conversant with his prostate health. His uncle recently had radiotherapy for throat cancer at the Christie Hospital and he had chaperoned his uncle a few times.

Between snatches of reality and humour, he got the message and point-blank refused a tip, he felt he had gained so much from our conversation and that was enough. I called an Uber for home and ended up in a luxury car, the driver from Africa had lived in Italy for two decades before coming to the UK.

You will always be understood

He was concerned about his lack of fluency in English that he felt was a handicap. My view was as long as he could put words together, he would be understood. He should always speak his mind and besides, many of those who would typically abuse him are not as successful as him driving an E-class Mercedes Benz, he should in fact celebrate his achievements.

Obviously, on some occasions, he simply got his son into the conversation with establishments or the authorities. Every likelihood was he would get whatever he intended done.

As I arrived at home, he helped unload my luggage and brought them into the foyer, all the help I received from door-to-door of about 18 hours was the preparation for rest after such a lengthy journey. I unlocked my door, my house sitter had outdone himself this time, somewhere between it having been hit by a super hurricane and a full ransack of the house, I was soon pushing a vacuum cleaner and brushing the floors. I found the energy; it was the very last straw.

John Coll: Helpless against a crooked executor

Our mortal powerlessness

Yesterday marked a decade since the passing of my friend and mentor John Coll. As a blogger, I would normally have written something to commemorate and memorialise the day. The blog I wrote last year was meant for yesterday, I was a year off.

Blog - John Coll: Friend, Mentor, Gentleman – January 2015

Blog - John Coll: Calling on Herbert Dzinotyiweyi to fulfil his wishes – December 2013

Much as I want to reflect on our friendship, there are issues of understanding trust and the powerlessness of keeping that trust when you are no longer in the picture.

It brings to mind when Queen Elizabeth II gave her Christmas message desiring that the Duchess of Cornwall as the spouse of the Prince of Wales become the Queen Consort when he assumes the throne. That wish lasted until the coronation of King Charles III when he as king regnant decided his consort would be crowned Queen.

The clear message there is that regardless of the desires of the much-loved Queen, once she joined her ancestors, the powerful effect of her determination had gone with her passing. There is only one monarch in a kingdom and this time, it was Charles III, we had left the Second Elizabethan era for the new Carolean age from the 8th of September 2022.

The danger of a sole executor

In the affairs of life, we exercise both choice and control to varying extents, our presence enables us to order, arrange, and challenge situations to align with our liking and expectations. However, in our passing, where we cannot exercise control or authority, we rely on trusted persons to fulfil our wills, testaments and bequeaths.

There is a clear basis for an executor of an estate and there is law and precept that governs that responsibility, yet it can be abused. John chose the ‘trusted’ financial manager of his company to execute his will, whether it would have been prudent to distribute that responsibility seeing that John had been an employer of labour and skill for decades is another thing.

When John passed on, the primary elements of his will, such as his funeral and the disposal of his estate were followed through and seemingly completed quite promptly. The other part of his will which included bequests to 10 individuals, mostly outside the UK did not get fulfilment.

Once the executor had seen the largesse of the estate the trust reposed in him evaporated into avarice and over years, he schemed to transfer the full value of the estate after probate of about £780,000 to himself. He might have siphoned it out of the country or gambled it away, but he also had another plan, for he had citizenship of Zimbabwe and naturalisation in the UK.

I was onto him in 2019 when I learnt that most beneficiaries of John’s will had not been informed, and those who should have known were kept from prying because the executor feigned complexity of managing the estate and the required taxes.

He escaped accountability and justice

As I was not a beneficiary, I could only inform and instigate in the hope that John’s wishes would be fulfilled, and accountability is looked for as pertains to the fiduciary duty of an executor. Sadly, the police mishandled the situation and allowed the executor a window of opportunity to escape justice leaving the beneficiaries bilked of consequential resources that could have been impactful on their lives if John’s wishes had been conducted.

The lesson here is not only in choosing a trusted lieutenant or friend to execute your estate, especially in the absence of close relations to do the same but in distributing that responsibility so that the executors can hold each other accountable and true to the requirements of the testator.

Whether John had any insight into the character or integrity of his executor, one cannot tell, but with hindsight, the executor was anything but trustworthy. Mortal man is at a loss, for a will has no enforcement until the person is confirmed dead and the same person is powerless to ensure that their will is totally implemented according to the spirit and the letter of will.

A thought on accountable executors

As a man of faith, one of the reasons why Jesus Christ had to rise again from the dead was that the will for man to have eternal life and a relationship with God came into force with His death and the shedding of His blood for our sins. He rose again to ensure his testament was followed completely, that in accepting His sacrifice on the cross and declaring Him Lord, He confers the same sonship He has with God the Father on us too.

Imagine if, at the implementation of a will, the testator had the means to ensure every jot and title of their will was fully done without any challenge to the executor or resorting to the courts to redefine or alter your intention, purpose, and desire. Trust is a fleeting commodity, when it comes to executing a will, please ensure you have built extensive accountability into the process.

It is not John’s fault that things turned out this way, I never had reason to question either his instinct or his judgment when he was alive, people change and when it comes to money and worse still, the love of money, it is the root of all evil, the unconscionable evil that consumed Herbert Dzinotyiweyi.

59 and blessed

Of great blessing

I must be one of the most fortunate and blessed men, yet I am usually unaware of how great mercy and grace have been bestowed upon me. I am thankful and grateful for each day that reveals nothing is of my doing; it is all by the grace of God.

Today, I celebrate my 59th birthday, and many events have occurred in my life that any observer would never have imagined this day would come. Even though I have not dared to think of it, I have just taken each day as it has come.

Of adverse circumstance

When this year began, I was celebrating the 15th year after a life-threatening cancer diagnosis that studies at that time suggested most people never get to live another decade. My story found a turning point at that cancer diagnosis; if I had finished my autobiography, my understanding of life, surviving, and thriving would have pivoted around it.

I never anticipated a diagnosis of malignant prostate cancer, which was confirmed in June after five months of tests and investigations to determine what we had to deal with. I visited Cape Town to see Brian after that diagnosis, quite unaware of what lay in store. It was a different kind of cancer that was invisible and painless but could have, if undiscovered, killed me.

Of living blessed

The only way I found to address my concerns was to listen to sermons about faith and healing. I knew I would undergo some sort of treatment and expected the outcome to be cancer-free. I undertook radical radiotherapy in September/October and have returned to Cape Town to recuperate and recover with the support and care of Brian.

I owe my life, my love, my joy, my happiness, and my belief in a great future ahead to God, my Lord Jesus, my partner, my close friends, my supportive colleagues, and every well-wisher who has offered words of encouragement and material help. Indeed, I am blessed, mightily blessed indeed.

Thank you.