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.

Photons on the Prostate - XV

The need for quality support

When it comes to talking about cancer, I have had the best support from a Cancer Support Nurse Consultant (CSNC) recommended through support services with my place of work. We have scheduled monthly meetings where for sometimes more than an hour we can address all my concerns and issues around dealing with cancer.

Our first meeting which was via Microsoft Teams, and I insisted on an audiovisual engagement rather than plain audio, we talked for about two hours, and it involved giving her a full background on the process to the discovery of cancer and attendant issues.

Macmillan Cancer Support, the Christie Hospital, and my GP have been supportive but what I needed most of all was someone ready to spend time listening, understanding, appreciating, and recommending how to navigate a cancer diagnosis through treatment and recuperation.

I dare say my engagement with Prostate Cancer UK was a distraction. I was well on the way to having active treatment based on the diagnosis of malignant prostate cancer, but they thought I should delay treatment for active surveillance. While anyone would prefer not to endure surgery or radiotherapy, I could not postpone treatment for the comfort of normalcy while cancer was having a gnaw at my prostate gland.

The usefulness of helpful advice

My CSNC is a registered nurse and quite knowledgeable about many of the elements around pelvic area cancers. Most of the progressive solutions I have had to manage the symptoms and side effects along with after-treatment conditions have come through our conversations. Everyone else was just at the end of a telephone, she was there to be seen and heard. It made a whole lot of difference.

In our last meeting we talked about emerging symptoms and side effects with bowel functions. The literature suggested with radiotherapy, people have more issues with the bowel than the urinary or sexual functions. I however had serious urinary problems that I hardly noticed if bowel movements were regular and working as expected.

She then suggested the documented side effects are not essentially a textbook expectation, that side effects can occur at any time during and after treatment in no particular order along with the fact that for some people, they might not experience some side effects at all.

Some outstanding concerns to address

I was recommended to keep a diary of nutrition and excretion patterns, noting the regularity of movements to find what might be the issue beyond the healing process from radiotherapy. While my energy levels are improving, I still find that I tire easily, my need to use the conveniences intervenes with my comfort, and I need to sit down after walks.

Much as I want to believe I am doing well; I am still not where I need to be. I must consider if a phased return to regular activities is needed. That conversation can wait until late in January. What I must do now is relax, rest, recuperate, and recover. Manage the symptoms and side effects as best I can while celebrating the gift of life.

Blog - Photons on the Prostate - XIV

Blog - Men's things - Prostate Cancer blogs

Photons on the Prostate - XIV

Beyond radical radiotherapy

Three months ago today, I began radical radiotherapy for adenocarcinoma of the prostate. It is just six months after I received a confirmed diagnosis, and it needed immediate active treatment after consultation with a multidisciplinary team on options for surgery or radiotherapy.

I worked through the duration of radiotherapy and for a month after the completion of the treatment. However, increasingly, I suffered more impactful side effects that started with chronic fatigue, and issues with my urinary system that limited most outdoor activity as I needed to be close to available conveniences, and one unexpected effect was the way those elements appeared to affect my voice.

My voice became weak and strained, usually determined by my energy levels that was quite sub-optimal most of the time. While against what my body was telling me, I tried to continue as normal, I really had to take a break and have added domestic support that being at home did not offer.

Time off to recuperate

The decision to travel to South Africa while somewhat frail was not taken lightly, but I knew the essential support for my recuperation was best under the watchful care of my partner. I availed myself of all the customer assistance provided by the airline for my journey, no sense of determination could have propelled me through the experience.

I can attest there has been considerable progress, the occasions of fatigue are less frequent, the urinary issues while still needing medication have eased, the sound of my voice is much better with a few relapses, and the painful discomfort that needed opioid medication has completed gone and I have now totally weaned myself off codeine with minimal adverse effects.

The weather in Cape Town might have contributed to my recuperation. I can begin to consider a return to normalcy, which might take a process of reengagement. Much as I try not to have that preoccupy me and concentrate on recovery, there is a world to return to in the New Year.

Looking ahead

I am grateful for the support and care I have received through the period from anticipation when I first had exploratory tests in February, through further investigations, diagnosis, and treatment. My long-suffering partner, close friends, extraordinary neighbours, siblings, and colleagues compassionately accommodated my vulnerability with understanding.

Each time I present an update, I appreciate how it was fortuitous that we caught a high prostate-specific antigen (PSA) reading when we did because at the advent of my treatment, the PSA reading had fallen within the normal range, but for the fact that an MRI scan leading to a biopsy had detected Stage 2, yet malignant prostate cancer.

The need for men especially Black men over 45 to pay attention to their prostate health. Do the checks and have the tests, catch things early and have the best options for recovery.

Blog - Men's things - Prostate Cancer blogs

Blog - Photons on the Prostate - XIII

Other references

Prostate Cancer UK: Black men and prostate cancer

MedScape: International Prostate Symptom Score (IPSS) Calculator

Urology Care Foundation: Benign prostatic hyperplasia (BPH)

NHS: Prostate Specific Antigen (PSA) test

Prostate Cancer UK: The PSA blood test

Nickel Blogs - Blog by blog for 21 years

A House, A Home - Anna Wilson

The first brick

I thought the 8th of December 2003 was a weekend, but it was a Monday. Now, I cannot recollect what I was still doing in a Berlin hotel the day I wrote my first blog. I must have been on holiday.

I had been sharing some of my views with a closed circle of friends by email, but it was not efficient, and frankly, some were rather fed-up with me clogging their inboxes with musings and rantings. Did one not ask that I be more authentic, and by that, suggested I was putting up a façade?

Blogging was becoming a trend, it was the subject of an interesting report I caught on CNN when it was the global news outlet pumped into every international hotel room. Quick research on how to start a blog landed me on a website managed by a small outfit in Scotland, and http://akin.blog-city.com/ (now defunct) was born.

Building homes

Even blog hosting sites could not stay the course as I received an email in late 2010 that the service would close in January 2012. That began the process of migrating what we now call content to Google’s Blogger and https://akinblog.nl, over 1,500 of them, a manual activity and what I lost in the process was the engagement and many link references.

Brick by brick, blog by blog, I built a house and a home of thoughts, views, opinions, and perspectives. I have been writing about what I have experienced and how it might affect me or others for 21 years. It is as easy as it is hard. I have 4,177 blogs, including this one, with over 8,300,000 views to date.

A place of blogs

I am commemorating today with a song written by Anna Wilson for Habitat for Humanity International because every sentiment expressed in that song applies to this home that my blog has become.

Finally, thank you to everyone who has visited my blog for whatever reason, some interacting by leaving comments or engaging me directly. I found a quiet corner and you came to say hello, I appreciate you all and hope you will continue to visit and interact with my blog and me.

Here’s to many more anniversaries. In human terms, the 21^st signifies the key to life and the anniversary gift is nickel. Let’s keep building homes for every expression of humanity, brick by brick.

Nickel Blogs - Celebrating 21 years of blogging

Nickel Blogs - In view of 21 years of blogging

Nickel Blogs - 21 years of telling better stories

Nickel Blogs - 21 years of going against the grain

Nickel Blogs - 21 years of articulating the identity spectrum

Nickel Blogs - 21 years of articulating the identity spectrum

Finding a place to be known

Negotiating the identity spectrum has been a feature of my blog, though when I consider the situation, it has always been a feature of my life. However, having a blog has helped articulate the issues around how identity is more defined by influences than by progeny.

I can think of the many experiences and realisations, the earliest being when I first arrived in Nigeria, barely a 5-year-old and I noticed there were more people like me than where we had left. How was a little black English boy to know that Nigeria would be different?

English, people have issues with that, I am supposed to be Black British, yet on those atrocious forms, I would write in Black English. That aspect of being English became ascendant when I had to tackle the question of where I was from when I lived in the Netherlands.

The many questions of where

“Where are you from?”, they would ask. I answer, “I am from England”. The next question usually was, “Where are you originally from?”, The answer, “England”. Confusion or frustration clouds their faces with a further inquiry, “Where are your parents from?”, The answer, “Nigeria”. Enlightenment, “So, you’re Nigerian”, “No, I am not, I was born in England.”

The best question in that vein was, “What is your birth country?”, I answered, “England”, and my interlocutor asked no further questions. This brings me to the other matter of my accent, it started as a typical Brummie accent influenced by associations in Nigeria especially in schools that had a large international pupillage.

Strange juxtapositions of identification

It's funny that most of the Caucasian kids were Nigerian-born, and many of the black kids were foreign-born, with foreign accents, too. However, reading an article by a friend of mixed-race parentage revealed another interesting thing about identity. Those of mixed-race parentage were othered from afar. We looked like everyone else until we began to speak, and then we were put aside, too.

It was like we never really belonged where we thought we belonged; we had to work out how we wanted to be identified. For instance, how do you tackle a statement like, “You’ve always thought like a Westerner?” I was 42 years old, which was what my father said in a conversation.

The privilege and the opportunity

In my case, I have found both privilege and opportunity by the accident of birth that is not of my making, how it has helped me navigate situations in life and at work cannot be covered in a blog. Too many examples come to mind.

Maybe, I am more fortunate that working with my sense of identity and the quality of my education has taken me to interesting places.

I have little time for identity politics, but woe betide anyone who attempts to pigeonhole me in dockets where I neither identify nor wish to place in. Such is the life of a Third Culture Kid.

Some additional context

A Third Culture Kid (TCK) is a person who spends a significant part of their childhood living in a country or countries that are different from at least one of their parents' passport countries:

The child's parents' culture is the first culture.

The host country's culture is the second culture.

The child's own cultural identity is the third culture, which is a fusion of the first two.

The child adopts some traits from each culture. [If I may add, some kids even live in bubbles different from the nominal culture too.]

Nickel Blogs - 21 years of going against the grain

Developing a life of views

It would appear even to me that my blog has developed some unintended characteristics, but these have become some of the elements that give context to what I write.

For instance, one regularly occurring theme is the Thought Picnic which began just like when the blog began, in a hotel room on one of my travels. I was in Antwerp during my news junkie days when another of those Israeli-Palestinian conflicts was in the news.

The world news channels gave an Israeli representative a global platform to which she relayed to my unmistakable hearing, “We have to tell the world our truth.” Not the truth, but their version of the truth, which in its narrative was as far from the truth as the opposite cardinal points of the compass were from each other.

I found myself carted away in my mind’s eye on a picnic into a wilderness left to my thoughts to contemplate the seemingly intractable issues of the world around me. Indeed, I wander away in thought, into things that seem silly or complex. Those who have wondered what goes on in my head want to venture in there as I warn them it is probably no place for the sane.

Becoming an alien to the contemporary

You might also wonder why I have a theme titled Essential Snobbery 101; it is hardly about snobbery but a reflection on how norms have changed over time that some of us despite adaptations still find certain attitudes and behaviours unbelievably strange as to wonder if we have been visited by an alien civilisation.

There are themes dotted around this blog of 21 years, they are informed by perspectives and outlooks that might differ from how people would generally view things. There is a surfeit of commentary on the issues of the day, and where I have an opinion, I dare say it is rarely on the well-trodden ground of thought.

Challenging the orthodoxy brings conflict and controversy, however, celebrating independent thinking should never go out of fashion. Even when I was involved in syndication, remaining unaffiliated and so not beholden to a corporate policy mattered more to me than gaining a wider audience.

Nickel Blogs - 21 years of telling better stories

Celebrating life in abundance

21 years can seem like a lifetime, yet it is just over a third of my life. In that time, one can look back at the many things that have happened, the things done, the people encountered, the places travelled to, the events and activities that could be life-defining, and that becomes a chronicle of life.

I count my blessings and celebrate the joy of living. To have lived through two episodes of life-threatening cancer 15 years apart and still have a story to tell makes me one of the most fortunate people alive.

I take nothing for granted, the life I live is by the grace and mercy of God, medical interventions notwithstanding, the guarantees offered count for nothing if you do not have a greater assurance for results.

For writing better stories

Then what do you do when you have a blog and experience episodes of cancer? You write about it, document the treatment and side effects at diagnosis, and provide some thoughts in the aftermath.

Yes, my blog contains life stories and experiences, both the toughest and the triumphant. I am still standing because there is much more to reveal in my life, and I have better stories to tell.

Whatever inspired my blog at its inception has now turned out to be a reckoning of how favour had greeted me in too many places to mention, especially where I have neither worked for nor deserved the abundance of good that has come my way.

You would notice I rarely use the word lucky, rather, I am fortunate; 1: bringing some good thing not foreseen as certain: auspicious 2: receiving some unexpected good. Definitions according to the Merriam-Webster dictionary. If anything, I have been remiss and negligent in recording the many instances of this glorious divine goodwill accorded me.

Nickel Blogs - In view of 21 years of blogging

It might be a low-key affair

I obviously had great ambitions for celebrating the 21^st anniversary of blogging in a week’s time, but that takes both organising and promoting, activities I cannot say I have the skill for.

Nickel Blogs - Celebrating 21 years of blogging

As it goes, I might just settle for a celebratory blog and a review of things that have caught my attention and interest over that period. The blog itself remains a personal blog even as I find that it garners a global readership and has been achieving record monthly visits for most of this year.

While storytelling has not gone out of fashion, it is a shame that personal blogs of a non-profit nature have waned in significance. As I have alluded to, other forms of expression and media platforms have taken hold as global attention spans have become more engaged with the stimulation of different senses for thrills.

Longevity can be impactful

The other day when I introduced a colleague to my blog, the first thing that caught their attention was the collapsed year archive that read as far back as 2003. Some people even thought I had a journalistic background; I have rarely done anything in the arts and humanities since my secondary school days. However, I do have an interest that might eventually inform a graduate programme.

If anything, the longevity alone can be interesting. I have not made many changes to the blog even though some static content does need to be updated. I won’t even ask anyone to wade through almost 4,200 blogs, but the “Random Post” button on the desktop or non-mobile version of the blog can lead to interesting topics.

Meanwhile, I will post a few thoughts until the anniversary. Thank you for visiting my blog.

Thought Picnic: Time

Time is not a property

Time is a gift we usually do not use properly or cherish its utility. The time we should make for ourselves, for others, or for things. Using time judiciously without wasting it, for ourselves or for others.

The reckoning accounted for in the scheduling and keeping of appointments, giving little room to tardiness out of consideration, courtesy, and respect. We get away too often with not being punctual and having excuses for why we have failed on our part.

There are many facets of time and timekeeping, having an agreed datum for a time reference, that time is not just ticking away, but correct on every timepiece in whatever location, so no one is confused about what the time is. If any time is askew, it should only be in a reasonable margin of error of the magnitude of a few seconds and never more.

Time is a generous gift

Beyond the exactitude of time, the most critical use of time is finding the time and making the time to cultivate relationships, to create wholesome and life-enhancing connections with ideas, people, and events.

After the fact, we find ourselves regretting not seizing the opportunities that time has afforded us, but we are allowed to pass until it is too late. We give time to the negative in holding grudges and offence when should be constructively changing the paradigm for the beauty of fellowship.

Certain things are irredeemable, yet until we have tried our best at redeeming them, we let things lapse and ruefully review in the dreamy unreality of a parallel universe that could have been the universe we inhabited if we made better use of time.

Time is a gift; it is a present we need to be more grateful for and be profusely thankful that we are given a measure of it to make the best of life and living.

Dr William George Wykeham Legg (Willy)

Sadly, it happened

As we suspected without putting words to our thoughts, a message that we received late yesterday came with the confirmation that a friend had passed on after a protracted illness.

I never met Dr William Legg, known as Willy to many; he was born in Zimbabwe and even though he travelled the world for work and his medical education, he was Rhodesian and Zimbabwean, part of a cohort of typically white Africans that apart from their distinctive appearance would pass for native in manner, tongue, and probably outlook too.

It was through Brian that I made an acquaintance with Willy, who was ever courteous, wise, and, well, naughty. I guess with the people who crossed his path due to his profession, you acquire a facility to engage anyone at any level and keep them totally at ease.

Some interactions to note

Whenever he asked Brian to pass his regards to me, there was something lewdly impolite that he also expected Brian to do, to ensure I got the message completely. Seeing my interest in not just Brian but Bulawayo too where he lived, he sent me an old hard-cover book on Bulawayo that contained language that would not pass the censure of a copywriter today.

It depicted a time and place that once was with an engaging narrative that made you want to make off to see, feel, and experience Zimbabwe. There was an expectation that we would meet as he desired to take me to the Matopos Hills, and I was more than interested as that is also where Cecil John Rhodes was buried.

A thought in closing

Alas! We never got to do that, as I have yet to visit Zimbabwe, and he had become quite increasingly frail over the last few years. While having a very active mind to the end, his body literally incapacitated him.

I have heard and read many stories about Willy. He spoke fluent Ndebele, could make chapatis from scratch, was a doctor to many, and a teacher of the medical sciences to many more.

To Brian, he was a friend, a boss, a confidante, a mentor, a father figure, and much more. It is with him that I grieve the passing of Dr William Legg. May his gentle soul rest in peace.

On the things I cherish

On the things I cherish

Some things are indescribable,
Where words make a likely fable,
For every moment I am able,
We like horses do share a stable.

In your eyes I see laughter,
That my steps begin to falter,
It is you and really no other,
That is much closer than a brother.

As seconds count up to days,
We find in our various ways,
How relationship just obeys,
And it is never like a haze.

The words that bring such humour,
Gladdening the heart with succour,
Seeking the fun that does concur,
With all, we choose to honour.

On those beautiful walks on the beach,
The tranquil that sounds like a speech,
Expressing what no one can teach,
We transcend things we once couldn’t reach.

It is a love that rarely speaks its name,
Where passion is never that tame,
It aspires not to any kind of fame,
Only asserts the truth of what we claim.

Wisely manage exertion or you crash

What a sedentary year

Thinking of my main exercise, walking, I have noticed that this year, I have just barely breached 2,000,000 steps in what might, from one perspective, seem like my laziest year in the last five years.

Without making excuses, I understand that the advent of cancer and the treatment of the same limited my facility for exertion in ways I could not have anticipated. I started radiotherapy taking the advice that I could continue doing the routine things I used to do. Still, the experience taught me a lesson that my mind was way ahead of my body, for my body to attempt to catch up.

When I was actively walking, my smartwatch and health app would suggest after every session, the expected recovery time. A serious workout of 13.5 kilometres in about 2 hours called for almost an 18-hour recovery time for my age and abilities. That intensive brisk walking activity has for now sunk into the annals of memory.

What I cannot do now

For instance, yesterday, we went into Cape Town for brunch and decided to walk the seafront promenade from the public baths to the V&A Waterfront. That was about 4.7 km in the warmth of a hot summer. I was caught out, my desire strong, but my strength waning, by the time we reached our destination, I needed Brian for support, and I was totally exhausted.

As much as I tried to push myself, I could do little. On getting back home, I crashed out and my voice when I had to make some calls was closer to a wisping whisper, almost unrecognisable to people who knew me.

Recovery is the package

The moral of the story is that I am not as able as I think I am. For all the youthful zest I possess, I am somewhere in the grandpa category of having to take things easy, and for everything I do, I need adequate and extended recovery time. This is compounded by the fact that I am recuperating and so, I need considerably more time to recover my strength.

Staying in Muizenberg has many benefits. The beach is just 5 minutes away, and it is a good long walk in the breeze to the kiteboarding and surfboarding areas. It is tranquil, refreshing, exhilarating, and good for the soul. On good days, we make the most of the situation, and that is the tonic we need.

Photons on the Prostate - XIII

Many improvements in symptoms

Thinking of the process of recuperation after radiotherapy, I am getting better at least with the signs I have observed. There are fewer occasions of my voice sounding tired and waned from exhaustion, the weather might have contributed too as it is summertime in South Africa.

The symptoms with the waterworks persist and while it will not be defined as benign prostate enlargement the fundamentals of it still exist as the prostate was enlarged because of acinar adenocarcinoma of the prostate, the radiotherapy treatment of the cancer would have further inflamed the prostate and constricted the urinary tract, for which I have to take daily medication to ease water flow.

The image below best describes issues of an enlarged prostate, and links at the end of the blog give more context. The need to check your prostate health is important, I suggest you use the International Prostate Symptom Score (IPSS) Calculator as a starting point to buttress the case to your doctor for a Prostate Specific Antigen (PSA) test.

Courtesy of NHS Overview of Benign Prostate Enlargement

Other symptoms of concern

As pertains the waterworks, a polite reference to the bladder issues; there is lesser urgency or frequency, but the weak flow, straining, and nocturia are issues to manage as the prostate heals and hopefully returns to a normal size.

One other side effect that statistically affects others more but has been less of a concern for me is with bowel issues. They are manageable, but mishaps do occur. I reckon part of my original pain management medication has positively impacted expected diarrhoetic symptoms, but I must watch for irregular bowel movements.

What has not normalised is my sleep patterns, they are out of kilter. I suffer a lot from insomnia leading to tiredness during the day with the documented sleep record on my smartwatch showing barely 3 hours of night sleep and naps of about 60 to 90 minutes dotted around the day.

At the church service that I attended yesterday which started at 9:30 AM, I was wilting within an hour into the service. I hope this improves without having to resort to sleep inducement through medication. It might be something to discuss with my medical team.

Appreciating rest and recuperation

More importantly, it is the immediate support and care of my partner that has helped me. It was not easy facing a cancer diagnosis alone in Manchester, I had to rearrange some priorities for the uncertainties ahead. I received a confirmed diagnosis in mid-June but postponed any discussion about options for treatment for a month, while I took time to meet with my partner.

After I returned, the discussion about radical surgery and its side effects were not that encouraging, but I had to wait another fortnight to discuss radical radiotherapy and what confusion followed the different options in that area that we had a lot of back and forth. It was the second-hand experience of others that gave a better insight into what it entailed.

When the radiotherapy commenced in September, I worked through it, keeping up my routine as much as possible, though the fatigue set in, from the onset, at the first weekend, just after 2 treatments. Then, I tried to maintain productivity for another month after the treatments concluded as I realised radiotherapy did have a greater toll on my body than I anticipated.

Making the best of this rest period is critical even as I yearn to get back into professional activity. The art of restful relaxation is one I am yet to master even as I try to distinguish between holiday and recuperation, I should not make my recuperation seem like a holiday, just because I am away from home.

Blog - Men's things - Prostate Cancer blogs

Blog - Photons on the Prostate - XII

Other references

MedScape: International Prostate Symptom Score (IPSS) Calculator

Mayo Clinic: Benign prostatic hyperplasia (BPH)

Urology Care Foundation: Benign prostatic hyperplasia (BPH)

NHS: Prostate Specific Antigen (PSA) test

Prostate Cancer UK: The PSA blood test

Essential Snobbery 101: Between an escort and a chaperone

An industry getting worse

Much as I would hate to observe that recruitment agents have become lazier and more unprofessional, even with the benefits of AI they do not seem to care what they do. It is like they sling shit in every direction with the hope that something sticks somewhere and out of that comes the reward commission for placing a hapless recruit.

For instance, I have had more than a decade-long interaction with this major recruitment agency, they would at least have an old CV of mine that anyone would hope provides some background and history to inform of whether I should be contacted by anyone from the said agency about an opportunity.

That is if the recruitment agent concerned had done any research before using my email address for their scatter-gun activity. I am even surprised I was addressed by name; these emails are usually discourteously impersonal.

Subject: Escort Needed! Apply now [I was first shocked by the email header as the resolved email identity was unfamiliar, that was besides wondering why I would be contacted for any lewd activity as a sex worker which is work that I would hardly qualify for, at this age and not after my prostate gland had been zapped by radioactivity to rid it of cancer. On reading the detail of role, would chaperone have been a better word?]

The email I received yesterday afternoon

[The emphases in the email are as contained in the original with nowt taken out.]

Dear Akin,

Your new company

An exciting and challenging opportunity has become available to join HMP [His Majesty’s Prison nearby] as a contractor escort working as part of a third-party company. This company looks after all maintenance work within this prison.

Your new role

Your new role as a Contractor Escort at HMP [nearby] will consist of 39 hours working Monday – Friday and will involve escorting a variety of contractors and visitors around site, ensuring the strict policies in place are followed. You will be responsible for the protection of inmates, staff and visitors by ensuring these policies are adhered to. Other aspects of the job involve booking in contractor’s tools and supervising them once escorted to their designated working area. This is an ongoing temporary position.

What you'll need to succeed

In order to be successful in this role you will need to pass an enhanced background check conducted by the prison service. This is something we will facilitate upon registration. You will also need to be level-headed, well organised and hardworking person. A security background is beneficial but in not essential for the role.

What you'll get in return

For this job you will receive a competitive hourly rate of £13.68 with 33 days holiday a year. All uniform will be provided. There is a chance for permanent offer. [On the rate alone, I have resisted paying any attention to the derisory offer. The holidays seem generous for the role though.]

Kind regards,

[Recruitment agent name removed]

Recruitment expert in Construction & Property [Their expertise is questionable, at best.]

In all consideration

I could not get this out of my mind, the much I tried as I was both irritated and annoyed, it deserved some sort of response as I did not want my mailbox to be cluttered with such nonsense ever again.

I did consider a very curt reply with a clear rebuke expressing the depth of my indignation, but it probably would have been binned, and though I do not expect a response because such recruitment agents would never have been schooled in the kind of decorum that should make their communication a sign of their professionalism, I tried a different tack in my response, this morning.

With gratitude for the thought

Dear [Name withheld],

I am totally at a loss how any information you might have of me might have inspired my receipt of this job opportunity.

I have a 36-year career in IT, your explanation of how this role relates to my experience would be welcome and helpful.

Otherwise, it is better to first acquire some knowledge of a person's background before filling their mailboxes with irrelevant prospects. That would be the least professional course to take. 

However, thank you for having me in mind for this role, I regret it is unsuitable as I have no appreciation of how useful it is for me.

With kind regards,

[Signed]

The less said beyond this response, the better. However, if the agent does respond, I might update this blog.

That unwelcome discomfort from youth came visiting today

A familiar and rotten feeling

To date, I have never had a proper diagnosis, it is something I have suffered from juvenile times that I need to find a stop to. The stomach/abdominal pain that comes in waves with little in terms of relief can continue for up to a day. Usually starting early in the morning and continuing with moments of respite throughout the day.

Blog - I remember this tummy ache – (October 2007)

Blog - The pain is a long story – (September 2023)

It can be exhausting and the most I can do in terms of remedy is lie on my belly cushioned over a soft pillow and drink lots of sweet and milky tea. This might be accompanied by bowel movement or vomiting, which it was today, but it just adds to the discomfort of it all.

The thoughts that ran through my mind as I writhed with pain in my bedroom midmorning without the appetite for any ingestion even of pain relief, I would hate to consider again. I seem to have learnt to endure the pain with the hope it soon subsides.

The need for more rest

As I write this blog, even though I believe the worst of it is over, the muscles of my stomach seem to retain a memory of the suffering I endured with a foreboding that it might creep on me again. Thankfully, the pain associated with my waterworks post-radiotherapy has literally dissipated.

When I lay on the sofa in the living room, I passed the time away with old playbacks on YouTube of The Love Boat and Fantasy Island. Between the grimaces of pain and the comfort that interspersed today's main event, I did not even notice that we had some rain.

I think I’ll be fine for the rest of the day. There was no indicator as to why this ailment took hold today. I am glad it is over, and it is evident that for all the strength that I think I have regained in my first week of recuperation, I really do need as much rest as I can get, and I have not got nearly as much as I need, so far.

Feeling the warmth of a community church

Decisions for the good or the bad

We had a decision to make about where to attend a church service today without making the mistake of visiting a church with a self-absorbed worship team entertaining a congregation that was failed out of not being spiritually fed. At least that was our impression of the Hillsong Church in June.

We dared think of returning hoping that our first attendance was an off day, but we wrote to both the Cape Town campus and the mother church in Australia, and we received neither an acknowledgement nor a response. We had better go to a place where they are courteous and welcoming.

Blog - Between haughty Hillsong and bounty biltong

Planning without yawning

From Muizenberg to the St. George’s Cathedral, quite unlikely; when getting Brian out of bed on a Sunday morning is a herculean task at best, just perish the thought. So, I did a survey of churches in Muizenberg and two evangelical churches caught my interest, small, out-of-city, new, and growing. We set our minds on staying in Muizenberg.

It would have been a 45-minute walk or thereabouts, but we called an Uber taxicab to convey us to the Main Road of which there might be hundreds in South Africa, we had to be specific before I repeated the mistake of finding myself 33 kilometres from where I intended in Johannesburg, some 9 years ago.

Welcoming warmth and feeling

On arrival, we saw the church flagpole, but unsure of ourselves, we waited outside before someone came to the door. They were friendly and welcoming, and as she invited us inside, introductions followed. They all came to welcome and greet us.

Interest and engagement were evident in a small community church that espoused our Pentecostal beliefs. It was there that we learnt that a priest we knew at St. George’s Cathedral, the cousin of a congregant, had passed away last year.

As we were similarly attired, they wondered if we were band or choir members, we tend to turn heads on Sundays. I said we were partners, but they heard brothers even as I repeated myself. We eventually acquiesced to whatever they wanted to identify us as.

Simple yet impactful

It was low-key, intimate, and friendly. I was called forward to be prayed for, and the sermon was informal and easy-going with contributions from other members of the congregation. I began wilting later in the service but survived to the end before needing the use of the gents.

I took the offer of rooibos tea which I rarely have, sweetened without milk, it tasted good enough, I however do not intend to form a habit of it. We had a splendid time at church before walking back home. We will probably be returning next Sunday.

Companions in travel

Assistance is quite helpful

Those chance encounters with strangers and their stories. Too often we see people on the surface, with no inkling of who they are. Dare we strike up a conversation with them that leads to deep discoveries of similarities and differences between us?

For instance, I used customer assistance services for my trip to Cape Town. Someone to cater for getting me from the check-in counter to the aircraft and back through customs to the arrival terminal by wheelchair or a motorised buggy.

In Manchester, after the security check, I was left in a waiting area until my gate was shown. Soon, an elderly couple arrived, the husband needing a bit more help than his wife. She was amiable and friendly as he made for the gents.

Everyday interesting people

They had lived in Africa for more than 40 years, mainly in Namibia where he was an engineer, and she was in community development. They were going to Cape Town via Doha, arriving in Cape Town about 4 hours before I do.

As the conversation shifted to why we needed assistance, their son had made all the travel arrangements ensuring both his parents had the assisted service. Two years before she had open heart surgery and was put back together with 4 staples and glue.

She volunteered he had a non-cancerous enlarged prostate along with mobility issues and the onset of dementia. They were looking forward to their holidays, full of life and happiness. As we parted ways when I was picked up for the departure gate, we wistfully thought this might not be our last encounter.

I saw them later as they were being taken to their flight and we waved to each other. It might be a concert or wine estate where we'll drink a toast to good health.

The choices we make

Then sat beside me on my flight to Cape Town, I spoke to a lady, resident in Belgium but returning to South Africa to see her family. Alluding to my just completing treatment for cancer, she said she was going for surgery in a few weeks.

You would never have thought, but behind every facade is a world of stories with a touch of humanity. I used my experience to encourage her. She had made treatment choices to protect her quality of life. Every motivation is valid. I elected for radiotherapy over surgery to preserve urinary and sexual function.

With cancer, it is important to have all the useful information to make informed choices. The more pertinent thing: regardless of what people suffer, they go out and live their lives to the fullest.

From arrest to rest

A necessary situation

To think it was exactly two months ago that I walked into the Christie Hospital to begin 20 sessions of hypofractionated radiotherapy to treat malignant prostate cancer.

Until then, I felt nothing apart from what the blood work told us that further investigation revealed. I could have had a year totally oblivious of a growth in a delicate part of my anatomy that could be a cause of serious illness and death.

All through treatment that happened over 4 weeks of weekdays, I barely slowed down activity, though, as fatigue and other issues took hold, I made adjustments.

A betraying voice

This was brought home to me when I attended a conference having apologised for my low energy levels affecting the strength of my voice. Most listeners would have wondered why a sick man is pushing himself so hard. One sought out the management to raise their concerns.

I preferred to have some occupation rather than a distraction; I was accommodated even as others suggested I take time off.

The voice rarely improved; it bears the hallmarks of extreme exhaustion, yet, it is my voice, my tool of expression, slightly battered by resonant. Let me not suggest that it is indefatigable because fatigue has a role in moderating the sound.

Giving due consideration

Radiotherapy is painless and by that reckoning may seem harmless too. The havoc it has wreaked on my waterworks is one I hope to put behind me, along with the urgency that hits me when I need to map a route that offers immediate use of conveniences or sit at home.

The other consideration is finding the strength to do the simple things. It is five weeks since the end of treatment. The cancer is blasted but the body is far from a good state of recovery.

The decision to embark on a journey for the opportunity to access love and care was attacked from many quarters as much as others saw the need for it.

I made a determination after realising I needed to give myself both the time and the rest to recover, not sitting alone in cold Manchester but in the warmth of Cape Town with Brian.

Accepting my vulnerability

The discomfort of being carted around airports in a wheelchair in the knowledge that I truly am not fit enough to do the things I did without concern, before September is that independent streak denying my vulnerability.

However, I know how having a Radar key to access disabled toilets has prevented me from wetting myself the many times I have been out. This is all temporary.

I will get better, fully regain my strength and vigour, and then receive the all-clear assessment in April. What I need to tell myself is I need both the time and the rest to get well. Without that, I arrest my recovery.

To be loved in return

Nat King Cole, Nature Boy

Lifted beyond circumstances

I am like that nature boy who has wandered very far, very far, over land and sea. Whether I have acquired the wisdom of the boy, I cannot say. However, in life, I have learnt a lot about myself and about people.

The world has its issues and strangeness, much of which can affect us, the forces of nature sometimes unrelenting, the foolishness of politics with unintended consequences, and the unreasonableness of leaders bringing war, suffering, migration, and worse upon others.

Maybe we seek to isolate or insulate ourselves from these things, but there is only so much we can do with the limited resources we have to deploy in situations and circumstances we cannot control.

To the earthbound, the horizons are low. What we perceive through our senses can delude us, leaving us vulnerable to error and erroneous judgment. We must transcend these limitations for a dimension first created by imagination and brought into reality by what we speak.

Faith that assures

This is what undergirds my situation, I find inspiration in the words of the Christian God and begin a journey to places I could never have imagined possible. My story is not set in the travails of many aspects of adversity I have experienced, but in the blessings and triumphs that have put the past into the shade.

There are things I could not have planned for; grace and providence laid out paths that when I look back, I am amazed at how things have not only worked out for the good but have become testimonies of wonder because I refused to be moved by the storms that rage around to distract from purpose and determination.

As I embark on a time for rest and recuperation, I see the joy of living, the wonder of love, the beauty of peace, and the rejuvenation of spirit, soul, and body.

Beyond that, I hear the words of the nature boy:

The greatest thing,
You'll ever learn,
Is just to love,
And be loved in return.

Nickel Blogs - Celebrating 21 years of blogging

How expression has changed

In a month, my blog will have been running for 21 years. Eleven years ago, on the tenth anniversary of starting this blog, I invited friends and readers to contribute blogs to commemorate the occasion.

It was a different time and age; much has happened in a decade. There are hardly any personal blogs or many with a prolific output like there were back then. That is not because we do not have stories to tell. The medium and the model has changed.

It is all about content and engagement, hobbies that have become earners too. We are in the era of TikTok and skits, everything to titillate the senses for a few seconds you are lucky to grab the attention of that fleeting patron who is already unimpressed before you can make an impression.

Something for Nickel Blogs

Even as the thought of running another Your Blog On My Blog party seems to verge on wishful thinking, one can only try. This is an invitation to anyone who has ever found anything interesting on my blog, to write on any topic of interest to them to share in the celebration of this landmark occasion.

In tradition, brass and nickel are associated with the 21^st anniversary; I prefer nickel over brass. I might call this series the Nickel Blogs, but better ideas might come. The countdown has begun, and I’m excited.

Can this happen again?

The last time around I was honoured with 35 contributions, each published daily over 5 weeks. Looking back, some contributors have even dropped off Twitter. It might rekindle old friendships and acquaintances too. Some blogs still get readers today, and I might also get newly interested people.

Please contact me if you want to write a blog for my Nickel Blogs. Thank you for your readership, patronage, interest, and custom.

Decade Blogs - Roundup V - All the 35 Blogs and Thanks - December 2013/January 2014