The cancer Diaries – 13.10.15

What a week – Last Monday started badly with me missing an appointment with my work- Chris came out to visit and she got me some Cod Liver oil and an interesting book about Bill Shankly from a charity shop, I forget which One – Cancer probably. If she had come out today she’d have noticed a big difference with my hair. It hasny half gone mad in the last week- I’ve been worried about going bald since I was about Five and to see it fall out and get whiter and drier every day is F-ckin’ shite, to be honest. I look like a cross between Boo Radley and Tin Tin – all I need is a wee white Dug and I’ll have my own cartoon series. Last week was my ‘middle week’ – the week after the Chemo therapy when I’m more liable to infections and I have felt a bit buggered. I had the Tom Hanks thing again – when he was in ‘The Green Mile’ and was in agony when he pee’d – and One or Two aches and pains but it wasn’t too bad a week. I miss walking, though, and this time of year is a great time of the year for walking – when the leaves look as if they are on fire. I was looking last night at some old family photos of my Grandfathers, Brown and Jenkinson and ‘Bunty and the bald man’. Photos are great things – a direct link to the past and I love looking through old family photos and old photos of Pumphy. I always look at photos of my Grand dads, Jinky and Scud with a certain amount of pride. James Hutton Brown and William Jenkinson who, like everyone else of their generation and class, were born into late 19th Century poverty and asked, as young men, to fight in an unnecessary, unimaginable and unforgivable war. They were both lucky – they came back with their limbs and their senses and their sanity. Jimmy ‘Scud’ Broon married Jean Thomson, from Tarbrax and Bill Jenkinson, officer in the British Navy, married Janet Ritchie from Tranent. Jimmy and Jean had Three bairns – my dad was the oldest and he married Jessie who was the only child of Bill and Janet and the rest is History – Broon memory lane. Jimmy Broon, who worked down a mine, fought at Galipoli and was in Damascus at the same time as Peter o’ Toole- or Lawrence of Arabia- One or the other. Bill Jenkinson, who grew up in unimaginable poverty in Leith, along with his brother, and who, as an officer in the British Navy, rubbed shoulders with Royalty, in the form of the future Edward the 8th, or ‘That abdicating C–t’ as Bunty, my mother, called him. My Grandad Broon and my Grandad Jinky, who lived through the ‘Great war’ over a Hundred years ago. We also had another Scottish Fitba’ disappointment last week. Our failure to beat Poland and Irelands shock win against world champions, Germany, meant that for the Ninth time in a row we missed out on qualifying for a major tournament – every Two years since the World cup in France, in 1998, we’ve missed out on being on the same stage as the best teams in Europe and the World – and it’s shite. Next June sees the start of Euro 16, which will be the Ninth Euro – What started off as the European cup of nations and became the European Championship has, since 1984, been known as the Euro’s. Davy Broon and I were at the opening ceremony and match of Euro 84 in France and we both hoped that Thirty Two years later we would be there again with our kilts on supporting Scotland. England will be there, Northern Ireland will be there, Wales will be there, the Republic of Ireland could be there, Albania could be there, Iceland will be there – Countries which, Forty years ago were shite, or didny even exist are now better than Scotland. What are Iceland, with a population of about the same as Edinburgh and Slovakia- and Albania, for F–k sake, doing right that we are quite obviously making an awfy C–t of. Iceland qualifying is a great story and the powers that be in Scottish Fitba’ should be ashamed of themselves that we had a Hundred years start on Iceland in the International Fitba’ arena and now we’re lagging behind them.013 (3)339 (3)

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