Beau lines are white, sometimes ridged, lines that run horizontally across finger/toe nails that have suffered damage within the nail bed, for example due to chemotherapy.  As my nails recover and return to their old incredibly fast growth rate, I notice the Beau lines moving higher and the 'through the way' splits between layers at the finger tip end of nail.  I fear that once the lines near the top my nails may break off as the tranverse and laminar splits experience too much stress.  So it's back to nail varnish... but clear this time as it's just acting as glue.

My nails are a sight to behold!  The FEC induced discolouration means the tops are like smokers nails whilst the Docetaxel damage means the Beau lines coincide with slight flakiness.  Within a couple of months my finger nails will probably be back to normal but for my big toes, with large nails and slower growth, it could be a year.

I like the irony that these lines, named after the scientist who first observed/studied them, have a name that means beautiful.

One of the inevitable, if unjustified, aspects of being a she-preacher is that people feel free to comment on your appearance.  I don't mean the compliments on a well-chosen outfit, I mean the coments that your skirt is too short, your heels too high, your hair style inappropriate (too long/short/coloured/uncoloured/permed/unpermed), your makeup too heavy/non-existent etc. etc.

Since I 'revealed' my uber-short hair it has provoked mixed reactions.  Most people who know me have been very positive, not in a patronising way, but sharing my pleasure in having hair again.  A few people in hospital waiting rooms have been totally freaked, making in depth studies of the window, floor or ceiling - anything rather than look my way.  Most people who work in cafes have the professionalism not even to blink... even when I'm not in the 'trendy West End'.

Yesterday within half an hour I experienced two almost opposite reactions...

Person A "haven't you got a wig....?"

Person B "can I touch it.... wow, it's so soft and fine"

I am sure Person A was well intentioned - and, as there is a tiny risk they will read this, note that I quote it not as criticism but as observation.

I guess all of us sometimes say things that catch people the 'wrong way.'

I continue to revel in my new hair but recognise that some people it can press their buttons, awaken their fears, disturb their ghosts.  Actions can speak every bit as loudly as words.  Overall, though, I feel I've made the right choice for me...

On Friday I will be back at the cancer hospital where it is safe to have hair or not, scarves or not, and no one really bothers.  It's a place where people delight in other people's positives, a place where I have learned a lot for the good.

This morning I've been reading through my census form and pondering suitable answers.

Kind of amusing that Baptists get listed along with Jedi as 'other, please specify below'

Kind of bewildering answering 'how is your general health' ("very good") and 'do you suffer from any long term condition or disease?' (er, yes)

Kind of baffling answering 'what do you do in your job'...

Kind of brought out the worst in me being asked 'what is your nationality'... tempted to put 'other, citizen of heaven' but didn't.

Kind of curious to know how the Scotland questions compare with England (&?) Wales or Northern Ireland.

Ah well, this is the fifth census in which I've been recorded, at the fifth different address... so I'm sure I just suceed in messing up the statistics.

So, I climbed Mt Chemo, endured the bog of infection, made my way through the forest of surgery and ahead of my lies the river of radiation.  And now, for a couple of weeks, radiotherapy planning not withstanding, I am in a beautiful meadow... I feel fit and reasonably strong (learning to live with discomfort and told it will, eventually pass), my hair grows gently and steadily, and I am almost free to do my own thing for a little while.  It is lovely to have this breathing space, to do some things that are 'just for pleasure' before the final part of this trek has to begin.

Yesterday was a trip to Largs in the sunshine and this evening I join our C of S minister friends to farewell one of them.  A little 'gallivanting' in prospect before the nuking begins!

Last night a few of us trotted off to the local C of S church where one of our minister friends was being 'introduced to the RAF' as a chaplain.  We had guessed it would entail a fair degree of formality and other stuff that Baptists don't do but I for one had not anticipated quite so much nationalistic stuff... it would be interesting to talk to a Baptist military chaplain and see if they had as much of this in their services.

The C of S may not be 'established' in the same way as the C of E but the feel was pretty similar.

Before the service began a statement was read out a bit like 'bans' syaing that if anyone knew any just cause or impediment to this person's appointment they must let the Presbytery know at a given address - the deadline was ten minutes before the announcement was made and all the officials were at the church not the given address. Hmmm.

It's always a funny one for Baptists when a service inclcudes a creedal declaration, last night the Apostles creed.  Part of Baptist heritage is that we 'don't do creeds' not because we don't have orthodox beliefs (the BUS website clearly affirms "Baptists believe in the truths expressed in the historic creeds of the Church") but because our forebears saw how doctrinal statements divided, excluded and schismed the church (even if, of course, they were a schism in their own right).  I know some Baptist churches do use the historic creeds in worship, but most don't.  What holds us together in our weird and wonderful diversity is the Declaration of Principle e.g. here

Separation of church and state has always been a big thing for Baptists so it was kind of odd being in a service that included 'I vow to Thee my Country' and 'God save the Queen.'  Evidently it did not go unnoticed that the Baptist contingent didn't sing the latter (and most of us mumbled the former; one (not me) had the courage to abstain).  It would be fair to say that we don't have identical views of royalty but we do share a Baptist view that our allegiance is not to the Crown nor to Scotland nor to Great Britain but to Christ.

It was really good to see our friend move on to his new calling, and I'm sure he'll be a great chaplain to those he serves.  I'm just reminded why I am a Baptist.