I’ve had people contacting me about the silence on the blog. I’m sorry about that, however I am still alive and kicking.
These last couple of weeks have been two of the most painful in my life (although I’m told the mind effectively blocks out the worst of our memories).
I suggest the American CIA could forego waterboarding torture in favour of rectal radiation therapy and elicit whatever confessions they want. After 24 sessions (with 4 to go) I can do a very good impression of a Muslim at prayer, only my forward and backward rocking movement would not be as calm and sedate as theirs’.
I can understand why some people, after a round of radiation therapy, would say, “never again”. In fact, I am saying it now. Not only ‘sunburn where the sun don’t shine, but imagining taking a hot shower in salty water and towelling down on top of that. Ever had a skin-graze where the wound has oozed and the secretions have dried bonding it to an article of clothing; and then you’ve quickly tried to tear the clothing from the grazed area, reopening bleeding pores. Well that’s a little bit like what someone having radiation therapy on a tumour in the rectum has to go through every time they go to the toilet. Oh, and just for good measure, the treatment causes diarrhoea!!
Just call me spiderman – I’ve learned to climb bathroom walls without having to hold on to anything!
And that my friends is why the blog site has been quiet and the bog-site (NZ slang for washroom or toilet) has not been.