Apologies, loyal readers, for lack of posting. Life is very busy, and I hardly have time to turn around.  Tomorrow morning I get up before God does to catch a plane to take me away to Florence for a few day's break.

Suffice to say, today I have a sore throat, a temperature and the start of a cold - deep joy!

When I am back there will new tales to tell, but for now, there is a meeting to prepare for, and a few loose ends to tie up, so I'm signing out!

This arrived today.

In theory, I should not be in this system because I am still under the care of the breast team at my local hospital, but surely better to picked up twice than not at all...

This appointment is for the day after my routine check-up at the breast clinic, so I don't actually need it but... if you 'decline' too often you are denied screening, and in two years time I need to be back in that system... Tricky one! Will have a mull before I decide what to do!!

All that aside, screening is important... so I'm actually happy to be double counted rather than overlooked.

If you are female, have breasts and aged 47-73 or 50-70, depending where you live, then Do. The. Screening!!

It's eight years since the 'morning after' my cancer surgery.  Eight years of life I might not have otherwise known. Eight years of mostly good health (drug side effects, some major, notwishtanding).  Eight years during which I have travelled to New Zealand, Hungary, Malta, Czechia, Finland, Madeirra, Tennerife, France and Italy.  Eight years during which I have conducted baptisms and weddings, baby blessings and funerals. Eight years that have been more full of joy than sorrow.  Eight years when I have at times struggled to deal with the long term emotional/mental/psychological impact of what life, more widely, has sent my way.  Eight years I am glad to have been given.

So, annual nag coming up - do the screening (even if targets aren't being met anywhere in the UK, the BBC never looks further than England), do the awareness/self checking and report lumsp, bumps, rashes, itches, bleeds, bloats, coughs, headaches or bloating that have no reasonable explanation or have gone on more than a couple of weeks.

Cancer treatment isn't fun, but it's better than the alternative - and avoids the guilt that can arise from if only...'

Exactly eight years ago today, I was lying in a room in the High Dependency Ward of the Canniesburn Plastic Surgery Unit at Glasgow Royal Infirmary, having just undergone major surgery.  I can't recall much about that evening, except evidently I was decidedly 'high' as a result of the drugs.

Back then, even being here eight years on seemed impossible, never mind being well, happy and healthy... and having discovered I quite like the odd adrenaline challenge. This year it will walking on fire!

So, if you are mad enough to wish to sponsor me, there's a button thingy in the left hand column of this blog.  It seems walking on fire really is a case of mind over matter - quick march and all will be well, dawdle and, well, let's not go there!

It's a Thursday evening in March, and I have pledged to raise £120, so all donations, however small, very welcome.

Today would have been Miss A's 101st birthday... I like to imagine that she is enjoying some cake (with candles) and has finally found out whether or not she is allowed to eat ham.