Cancer Weekly. No.14.                                                                              18th July 2016

It is now over 18 months since my last message and things have changed slowly. I still visit the Macmillan centre every 3 months for PSA reports on the blood tests. Two months ago the level was measured at 0.06 its highest level since the prostatectomy. Dr Davda sent me for a PSMA (Prostate-specific Membrane Antigen) scan which is a new one for me and is designed to detect small amounts of prostate cancer in the body. It is a type of PET-CT scan and requires an injection of a radioactive mayterial an hour or so before the scan. Just prior to this I had had an ultrasound scan on a small lump on my rib cage and radiographer told me it looked like the growth had grown its own blood supply and my doctors would be concerned. For this reason, when I went into the centre for the PSMA results I was wondering about whether I’d have to cancel a 6 week holiday with my son due to begin the following day.

Fortunately the results were much better than I had feared. The same technician who had put the willies up me wrote a report saying there was nothing of concern about the growth. The PSMA test showed no sign of cancer and my PSA reading had gone down to 0.04. It couldn’t really have been better so the holiday was a real celebration. However at last week’s meeting the PSA had once again risen to 0.06 and it was decided that I should have another ultrasound scan on the chest lump and continue to be watched. This PSA reading which is the same as what it was 6 months ago continuing the general trend of a slight rise over the past 2 years. This could be accounted for by a natural fluctuation and I hope it continues to hover around this level. The situation is still that we will wait to see if it reaches 0.1 before considering radiotherapy.

An unexpected problem was the appearance of an abdominal hernia. I’ve no idea if this would have happened anyway or whether it was a result of the surgical interventions in the trousers department but it had to be sorted out. Having suffered from horrible dizzyness after all previous operation anaesthetics I asked for an epidural instead. About 3 days after the operation I had the most painful and persisitent headache that lasted for a few days and developed into a permanent neck ache. I still have this problem after 8 months and I have recently had to visit the hospital’s Pain Control Clinic. There I was told that the pain is not likely to be related to the epidural and I’d need an MRI scan. So once again I’m back in the seemingly never ending process of consultations, scans and treatment and waiting. Since the Da Vinci machine did its work I have had three other operations and all the ensuing treatments that follow. It is clear to me that all surgery has unwanted side effects but hopefully the benefits outweigh these. I’m looking forward to a period where nothing else needs attention.

One the bright side, the Coloplast Titan penis insert is functioning well and gives little discomfort. I don’t have any physical side effects from the prostatectomy and apart from the neck ache the hernia operation hasn’t caused further discomfort. However, given that I was feeling fine as I set off on holiday I suppose something had to happen. 

After 10 days during a motorbike trip around Flores, Indonesia, I managed to drop the bike on my ankle and ripped a tendon away from the heel bone. 2 months later it’s still not better so as well as my regular visits to UCH I now also attend Homerton hospital for regular physiotherapy. I could get used to this.

I’ll let you know if and when my book is published. Based around these emails and complemented by factual information, it will be called Cancer Times.

Hoping you are happy and healthy.

Luv Magnus x

Dear Friends and readers

Welcome to Cancer Weekly No. 13 (I think)

Just a quick update.

My last blood test was good as it showed that the PSA level had not risen over the previous 3 months. This follows several readings that were gradually rising. There’s no definite reason why this has happened but there is a possibility that my immune system is getting the better of the situation.

This was cause for celebration so I’ve taken to drinking too much again. It’s not really that I decided to drink a lot but Christmas got in the way and I am now in New York for a few weeks where it’s hard not to indulge.

I’m staying at the Old Carlton Arms hotel where my Surgical Dreams exhibition is due to open on Friday. There are always artists in this hotel. My friend Heinz is here and he was diagnosed with bladder and prostate cancers at the same time as me. Hugo who runs the place found out he had prostate cancer recently so along with a young writer who is having radiotherapy for breast cancer we have formed a rather jolly Cancer Club that runs mainly on Malbec.

The prosthetic squid was inserted a few months ago and was very uncomfortable. For a long while I assumed the pain was part of the healing process until it started to get worse. Eventually I saw the specialist nurse who agreed with me that the pump was not where it should be. She had a good feel and said there was something wrong and called in the big nob doctor who also had a feel and also said there was something wrong. They weren’t sure if it was an infection and the only way to find out was to “open me up” again. Depending on whether it was infected or not I could expect to have part or all of the apparatus replaced. As it turned out I had to have corrective surgery as the pump part of it, housed in the scrotum, had become stuck to one of my nuts.No wonder it was sore.

The adjustment of the penile device is referred to as ‘salvage replacement’.

After the operation and a couple of days in a hospital bed I was rescued by my friend Ray and whisked off to a pub where we got my system functioning again. It must have been the right thing to do as I felt as if I were floating in the air.

Fotunately all seems well now. It even functions and I am the proud owner of an inflatable nob. Explaining the Titan to friends always brings out the bouncy castle comparisons. In this case, one that children are not welcome to jump on.*

My friend Dr. Batchelor asked if I’d ever fancied men. When I said not he suggested that the good news is that I’d now be able to have sex with men as I could get an erection without any emotional stimulus. Of course a really adventurous recipient of this device could take this theory further and have sex with animals, food and even furniture.

On the brighter side, I do now talk to my dad about it. We also appear to be competitive as he has 3 different cancers which he treats with large infusions of cigarettes, beer, red wine and whisky every evening. So affective is his treatment that he now has to sleep on the ground floor of his house as he can’t get up the stairs. When I told him I had prostate cancer he replied, ” Oh yes, I’ve got that one”

I am now working with my friend Nick to publish an illustrated, book both factual and personal, about my prostate cancer experience so it seems the right time to stop sending these updates particularly as I hope there will not be a lot more to tell in the future. I’ll let you know when the book is available. It will be the perfect gift for the man in your life.

Love and best wishes until next time. Magnus x

PS. I suppose an inflatable nob could be quite a novelty when I get to the old folks’ home.

* Almost wrote something that could get one arrested.

Dear Friends and Readers welcome to Cancer Weekly No.12    

This week, the exciting world of prostate cancer opens up new windows onto the world of discomfort and irritation.

Since the insertion of the Coloplast Titan* penis contraption in September, the actual concern over the cancer has taken a back-seat. Now firmly in place this squid-like, apparatus is partially settled with all the scabs and stitches healed and dissolved. However there are now 3 items jostling for space in my scrotum and one of them is trying to get out. The pump device is not behaving as it should and has settled in the wrong place and it’s jolly uncomfortable. My nurse who I know as Lovely Fiona tells me I need a scan and minor surgery to fix it. Oh well!

However in general things are fine and I can now cycle short distances if I position my bum to one side of the saddle. Ideally a saddle with a hole in the middle would be desirable.

My last report concerning the Witchdoctor’s administrations (draining blood from the back of the knees) led many to believe he is a bloodthirsty loony but I will stick with it. His initial blood tests discovered I had some considerable DNA adducts (cancer-causing chemicals bonded to one’s DNA) including cadmium and malondialdehyde, which as you know is a naturally occurring product of lipid peroxidation and prostaglandin biosynthesis that is mutagenic and carcinogenic. Using natural remedies the worst adducts have been removed and now attention has moved to the less problematic but still nasty sulphates that remain. Better off without that lot.

I have just had an exhibition of small digital prints in a cafe/delicatessen in London. Named “Surgical Dreams” it comprised a number of works inspired by recent surgery and drugs. Not the best of spaces to look at the works but some of them provided a good counterpoint to the scoffing taking place.

Just as a matter of interest, so that I could inform my son when he will inherit my impressive estate I checked out a couple of online Death Date sites. I am now satisfied to know that I will die on 19/2/25 or 20/5/36. So no rush to complete the bucket list. The existing list has now only got 2 items as I ticked off colonic irrigation a couple of months ago.

In a further attempt to steal my thunder, my mum has now expressed a desire to eat her clothes and discusses possible ways of cooking coats and socks. I should ask her to write a column for the Daily Twit.

So, until a gripping report of further interventions and realignments, goodbye and stay well.

Luv Magnus x

* This erection device is marvellously named after the Titans, a bunch of deviants that specialised in castration, incest and child-devouring as well as giving birth to the equally degenerate Olympian gods. The charming Cronos actually emasculated his father Uranus. (no sniggering at the back)

10.9.14

Dear friends and readers. Welcome back to Cancer Weekly No. 11

Just a quick issue before I go into UCLH next week for the penis rehabilitation operation, a simple procedure to put an inflatable device in the downstairs dept. Should only be in for a day and night although the recovery period could be 6 weeks or so. Not sure if I’ll have any physio but it’s an intriguing idea.

Today’s visit to the clubhouse revealed that my PSA level has gone up a small amount again but I’m assured that it is still at such a low level that there is nothing to be concerned about. It indicates that something in me is still producing PSA but it’s not possible to say if it is cancer cells or leftover prostate cells. If it is cancer then there is a further possibility that the body’s immune system could actually kill them off as they have not formed a tumour. I am still exploring ways to up the immune system in order to help this along.

The witchdoctor has excelled himself recently. In an attempt to get my zinc level up he is using alchemy. Tiny amounts of brown powder in 30 small, folded paper packages is mixed with butter and washed down with milk. Alchemical zinc takes 3 months to prepare and is the end product of continual distillations. There is so little of it in each envelope that it’s hard to see. He also gave me a session of acupuncture, jabbing fat needles into the back of my knees (a place that has no proper anatomical name) until the blood running out of the veins formed puddles around my feet. This was in order to get rid of toxic blood which gathers there. Mine was, of course, quite pure and required very little letting.

Also, in the interests of personal, internal hygiene and perversion I visited a colonic irrigator (not alligator) in Broadway market (indoors), an item that had been on my “things to do before you die” list for some time. It was nowhere near as exciting as I’d hoped but she did have some interesting insights into my diet and intestines based on what came out. She told me I was very good at it and she’d never known anyone hold so much water on their first visit. There’s something to be proud of !

 Over the past 6 weeks most of my family including mum, dad and son have been in hospital. I have spent more time delivering and visiting them than I spend there looking after myself and I’m beginning to feel that my thunder has been pilfered by these thoughtless relatives – don’t they know it’s ME who’s ill. My mum certainly doesn’t as she’s now not sure if my name is Sainsbury, Turtle or Rabbit. It’s most entertaining.

However in a subconscious effort to regain the limelight I made a valiant attempt to redress the balance. Whilst waiting at London Fields for the 19.16 to Liverpool St. I decided to see how far I could walk along the platform with my eyes closed. After 25 steps I fell off onto the rails. No train was coming but I was back on the platform in a shot nursing a few bumps. My knee still hurts due to pulled ligaments and that was 10 weeks ago. I’ll stick to practising near rivers.

Well that’s it really. Probably be something gruesome to report with disgusting photos in a couple of weeks.

Hoping you are well. Magnus x

I came across another fine example of alternative treatments in the online Guardian –

A recent study from the University of Exeter has been reported as showing that smelling farts can cure cancer, as well as many other diseases. The study claimed that targeted delivery of a compound called AP39 causes more hydrogen sulphide to be produced by an ailing cell, and hydrogen sulphide in small doses can prove protective to the cell’s mitochondria, which supplies the cell’s energy and is often damaged by diseases. Hydrogen sulphide preventing this mitochondrial damage therefore can help cells resist the progression of many diseases.

Sounds like a good home remedy.

19.4.14

Dear friends and readers. After a brief spell of not much to report the world of Prostate cancer has once again entered an exciting stage. Returning from a long holiday I went for a check-up that showed my PSA reading had risen meaning that probably the cancer was not eradicated with the operation and that it was growing again. The doctor suggested that radiotherapy was the next step. Not the news I was hoping for so they arranged for my appointment with Dr Payne in oncology to be brought forward. When I asked about a prognosis he assured me I’d probably last until the end of the next fishing season, so all’s well for now. I’m beginning to wonder if hospitals choose doctors for their appropriate names since I have recently seen both doctor Payne and Dr Dhai. Roll on Dr. Hell.

On turning up at the clubhouse the following week I found that the appointment had been cancelled and nobody told me. When I eventually re-scheduled a visit I found out that my PSA had risen very slightly to 0.02 and was still too low to start radio therapy. The supposition is that there are still cancer cells at the site of the operation. Normally RT .is not given until PSA reaches 0.2 but in my case they will give it to me when it gets to 0.1. They must like me.

With regard to mechanics in the trousers dept. (somewhat compromised by the prostatectomy,) I have had a good look at and try-out of some of the possible solutions. Were it just a matter of rigidity there would be no problem but the Induratio Penis Plastica (Peyronie’s disease) persists and a banana shaped appendage has few uses short of somewhere to hang your hat. However help is at hand with the  all new Coloplast Titan Touch Zero penile prosthesis which is a surgically inserted implant that is combined with a straightening proceedure.  At my recent appointment with the big nob doctor I was referred to a specialist nurse who threw a dead squid on the table and told me it would fix the problem. This fascinating, slightly luminous silicone device utilises a couple of expansion chambers, a pump and saline reservoir to provide engorgement. Six weeks after the quick operation the lucky recipient will be able to inflate at any time. It works by pumping the saline solution into the chambers until the desired affect is achieved. I did ask if I could have any size I want but was told that was their decision. In case of breakdown you are also provided with a bike pump and puncture repair kit. The Italian consultant assures me that Silvio Berlusconi has one. With regard to radio therapy there appears to be an unexpected bonus – I get a free tattoo thrown in. This is in the form of some small, permanent dots on the abdomen that help the radiographer to aim the ray gun at the right place. So what with living in London Fields and having a beard I may soon have some tattoos so then I’ll be even more trendy. I believe tatts in this area are known as tramp stamps. Top marks to me for getting rigidity, engorgement, inflation and trousers into this report.

Next week : corpora cavernosa and more fish. Luv Magnus x 

Welcome to Cancer Weekly No. 9.

It seems that the exciting phase of having cancer has passed for now and I am in a watch and wait scenario. This involves having blood tests to measure PSA levels every 3 months. Hopefully, after a year that becomes every 6 months and will continue for as long as I last. It is hoped that the PSA level will not change as a slow rise will suggest that the cancer is still present probably in the ex-prostate site and a more rapid rise that it has metastased to another location. The good news is that the test results last tuesday showed the PSA was still at the undetectable level – 0.01. My appointment to see Dr. Goodnews at the Whittington was changed as he is still ill and I saw the unfortunately named Dr. Dhai. It reminded me of some of my previous visits to this hospital many years ago, due mainly to motorbike accidents, when I noticed parking bays reserved for Dr. De’Ath and Dr. Strange. I now appear to have 3 specialist nurses. They are all very good when you can actually get hold of them and given the amount of patients they see, I am amazed that they can remember who I am (apart from the one who calls me Martin). On a recent visit to the Macmillan Club house one of them sent me to an andrologist (male version of gynaecologist) who referred me to the man I call the Nob doctor who gave me a painful prod in the penis and told me I may have Peyronie’s disease, also known as Induratio Penis Plastica.  It is just what it sounds like and results in bent erections which could only be useful for directing tourists. At a subsequent meeting I found that he is actually called the Penis Man by his colleagues – more professional I suppose. Penisman referred me to another doctor but once again the  referral got lost and I’m now being re-referred to the main consultant andrologist who I assume is called Big Penis Man.  He’s the one to see if you want to know about pumps, pills, injections and implants. Meanwhile I’m still maintaining my big, red ears with daily Cialis. Anyway, I’ve decided not to have radiotherapy and have bought a motorbike instead. One of Dr. Badnews’ team says that’ll probably kill me first. I think he’s jealous because his wife won’t let him have one.

Pelvic floor exercises are coming on a treat and I can now open oysters with my anus.

I hope you are all well and happy – I’m OK. Luv Magno x

For those interested in further uses of the urinary leg-bag there is a very short, instructional video on

Hello there friends and readers,

Just to let you know I’m still here although not a lot has happened recently and the way forward is mysterious.

I’ve now divided my consultants into Dr Goodnews and Dr Badnews. My surgeon who’s clinic is at the Whittington, insists that he and the da Vinci machine have removed the cancer and there’s no point in having radio therapy. Dr.Badnews at UCLH says “Well he would say that, wouldn’t he?” and proceeds to tell me that my initial high PSA reading makes it very likely that the cancer has moved on from the prostate and is waiting to set up shop somewhere else.

 The nice radio therapist gave me a detailed talk concerning my choice between radio therapy and monitoring and explained all the possible radio therapy side effects. Everything from skin rashes to random bowel movements via incontinence, rupturing blood vessels, and additional tumours that could appear  up to 20 years later ( wishful thinking?). The choice for further treatment is left up to me which is not easy as nobody seems to know for certain if I still have cancer and if so where it may be. I have decided on the monitoring. This involves keeping a close eye on the PSA readings then further treatments if and when needed. There is no medical evidence to show that one choice may be better than the other.

For this reason there is currently an international medical trial to help ascertain what is the best timeing for RT and hormone therapy. Having already made my mind up I won’t be part of the trial. Shame, I’d like to have been useful.

Attention has now been focused on restoring my penis to working mode. There’s nothing like a prostatectomy to cause problems in the lower regions and the Whittington hospital nob doctor gave me a helpful booklet imaginitively titled ‘In Your Hands’. It seems the options include pills, pumps, injections and implants. As a starter I have a 3 month course of Cialis which has so far given me firm, red ears.

It seems that UCLH is not completely coordinated with Whittington as a doctor there (The Big nob doctor) suggested that I change my treatment to UCLH as they have better, moderner facilities and gave me more and stronger Cialis. Perhaps I could make a profit out of this.

Since being diagnosed I’ve read numerous books about fighting cancer with diet, fitness and alternative therapies. There are many approaches including the use of massive doses of vitamin C, a diet of cruciferous veg, cannabis, aspirin and gallons of flax oil every day. The one thing they all have in common is that everything one likes to eat and drink is taboo. Given that us desperate types will try anything I am thinking of writing a self-help book called ‘Curing Cancer with Beer’. It may not be scientific but who cares – I bet it would sell loads.

That’s it really for now.

I hop to see you soon.

All the beast

Magnus

And by the way, my Gleason score has now changed from 4+3 to 3+4. Isn’t that interesting? 

MAGNO’S CANCER WEEKLY CALENDAR FOR SALE – 12 pages of marvellous pictures

23.10.12

Dear Friends and Readers,

Sorry about his edition coming hard on the heels of number 6. If I don’t watch out it may really become a weekly. About as weekly as the Daily Twit is daily.

For those who I’ve not seen recently, the news is that my last blood test gave a PSA reading that was “undetectable”. The actual reading was 0.01. The radio therapist says this gives a 50% chance that the cancer is gone or it is still there in microscopic form. I now need to decide between 7 weeks of radio therapy to kill off remaining cells or the option of monthly monitoring of the PSA level with radio therapy if it starts to rise. The latter sounds a lot better as the side effect of the RT are numerous and some of them rather worrying (including the RT causing further cancers). It also comes with a hefty dose of hormones. However I suppose I’d feel a bit silly if the cancer returns and I hadn’t taken the RT treatment. It’s interesting to note that if it does move to another part of the body it is still prostate cancer. Particularly odd as I no longer have one.

Decisions, decisions! Maybe I should ask a policeman?

For patients who are unsure there is an after-surgery medical trial called RADICALS that randomly puts you in one group or the other. The purpose of the trial is to ascertain which of the 2 options gives better survival rates. Given that prostate cancer is very popular these days there is still a lot that is unknown. I am an ideal subject for this scheme as I am considered a ‘young’ sufferer.

Amongst other trials, I am also signed up for one that explores a genetic link for this type of cancer. On the form I had to give permission for them to use my removed prostate. There is no payment for this desirable item and it has to be classed as a “gift”. Who can imagine a more delightful present?

I also attended a physiotherapy session in the 52 Club on Gower St. It turned out that I was about the youngest person there and one of the few that could walk without assistance. I don’t think the physio helped a great deal but it was good for self-esteem.

Anyway, there may not be a great deal more to say for some time about this whole unusual saga so Cancer Weekly will revert to being a very occasional publication. It looks like the most exciting bit is behind me (at least I hope so) and it’s now a matter of waiting. Even if I choose radio therapy it won’t start until next year.

Thanks for reading and for all your help, support and odd ideas.

Luv Magnus

Cancer Weekly No.7 now available at all irregular newsagents.

Coming soon on the website – Watersports with Captain Magno.

Click on Doggy bag to see video

Doggy bag

Cancer Weekly no. 6                                                                                                       16.10.12

Hello friends and readers,

Many thanks to those who, having not received any recent correspondence, tactfully enquired whether I was dead. Well the latest news is I’m not. In fact I have just returned from taking Louise and my cancer on a trip around Andalucia.

On returning I popped into the club-house for an appointment with the radio therapist, Dr Payne (sounds better spoken than read). My previous meeting was with the surgeon who assured me that he had removed the cancer and could “melt” any free cancer cells with an injection. This didn’t go down well with the radio therapist who said he should stick to surgery. Her plan is to get my current PSA reading and decide whether to go for the 7 weeks’ radio therapy or just watch me. The latter sounds best as the RT is a 7 week course, 5 days per week preceded by 1 month hormones and a couple of years of hormones afterwards. Looks like I may be wearing dresses again.

I was wearing one on the day I had my catheter removed and was whisked off straight from the Whittington hospital to Whitstable for a charming day out courtesy of Dr McNeill. On entering a pub on my own, the whole place went quiet. I offered a loud hello and went outside where a decorator came over and said they didn’t see many men wearing dresses around those parts. I pointed out it was actually a djellaba and showed him what was underneath. We got on rather well from that point chatting over a pint. However, I didn’t tell him I was also wearing a nappy.

I have been working on ways to help fellow sufferers and following the success of designer urinary leg bags I have started work on seaweed wigs and beards for those with chemotherapy side effects. I already have one customer. This Thallophytic service can be offered to non sufferers. The wigs are trés elegant cheap and service is totally discreet.

Dr Davis contacted me concerning the state of one’s genitals after an operation. It seems that dark purple, swollen private parts are not an after-effect confined to prostatectomies. This appears to be common amongst patients recovering from a wide variety of operations and begs the question – what these surgeons do when one is unconscious? I’m wondering if the spirit of Jimmy Saville is still alive in hospitals under a different guise. Mine still ache and cycling and wind-surfing don’t help. Big trousers do.

Once again, thanks to everyone who has sent their support and helpful suggestions. According to some info I have received it seems likely that cancer can be controlled and even cured by smoking cannabis. Not sure if this one cures lung cancer but bowel cancer can be helped by smoking ordinary cigarettes. Taking aspirins also does the job along with flax oil and drinking your own wee wee. Of course, all of these cures have been suppressed by governments under pressure from profitable drug-making companies.

Armed with all my new-found knowledge I feel I could write a learned book on the subject or at least a daft article for the Lancet.

Anyway, I’m still alive and feeling fine. I hope you are.

Luv Magnus x

PS. Following detailed blood tests, my alternative doctor who I call the Witchdoctor discovered I have a high level of cadmium. I assume this is due to years of working with paints and inks. And according to a recent Nano SMT scan I also have raised levels of platinum and gold. If I do kick the bucket the corpse could have a decent scrap metal value. Don’t all rush!

24.9.12

Dear friends and readers,

Much has happened since the last issue of this infrequent ramble and my search for cancer cures both traditional, alternative and completely odd continues.

I recently visited a Maggie’s centre at Charing Cross hospital, where my friend Tim Hyman is artist in residence,  and dropped in on a prostate group meeting at which a rather dour doctor talked about palliative care (dealing with the very sick and incurables). Not very cheerful until one of the group started talking about the Dignitas clinic in Zurich where they will end it all for you. The lecturer had a dim view of this saying that it costs £10,000 a go (only one go necessary surely!) and suggested that with good palliative care it’s something we needn’t be concerned about. I asked if that’s because she could do it cheaper? This lead to talk about what qualifications are needed to set up one’s own murder clinic. After that it was a lot more fun. Tim sat there drawing it all. It really didn’t seem a very appropriate subject for a group of men who were all hopefully recovering.

It turns out that one has some choice in where to receive their palliative care – home, hospital and hospice seem to be the favourites. I was informed that fortunately my nearest hospice is St Joseph’s, just down the road within crawling distance. Sounds grim. I wonder if they could provide care in a pub?

Recent news is good. For the first time I left a specialist team meeting more cheerful than when I went in. The pathology test report says that the cancer has not spread to the lymph nodes and is not present in surrounding tissue. It also says that the tumour has passed 1mm beyond the gland. Having seen a doctor and the surgeon in the past few days it is uncertain whether this means there are cancer cells still in the area. This will be informed by my next PSA test at the end of October. Looks like future treatment will be based on the decision I make between monitoring PSA readings every 3 months and radiotherapy.

The tumour was quite large, filling the left side of the prostate and half of the right side. The doctor I saw seemed genuinely surprised and happy at the result. They reckon that the cancer had been there for up to 5 years – with no symptoms.

After receiving this heartening news I took a stroll to the Hunterian Museum on Lincolns Inn Fields where I celebrated by watching a couple of short films. The first showed the interior view of a prostate operation in which the gland was carved up using a heated wire loop and flushed out of the bladder in bits. The B film which was much more exciting featured the removal of a brain tumour. On the way out I had a chat with the man running the museum shop who turned out to be a recently retired prostate surgeon.  He pointed out that although the Da Vinci machine was not available 7 yrs ago they wouldn’t have wasted that sort of operation on me if they thought I was going to peg it soon. They could do with him  back at the hospital.

I’ve managed to get in contact with the main man in the UCLH imaging dept. who is keen to collaborate with regard to using the scan and biopsy images to make something or the other. It appears that he and several other doctors have already been talking about developing artworks from images so it’s good timing.

Fishing Therapy – The cancer fishing luck seems to be holding out with a recent catch of 2 tench and a big roach that was seized on the way in by a monster pike which snapped my line. Cancer may improve piscatorial good fortune but I don’t recommend it. A change of bait would be a lot simpler.

Once again, many thanks to all who have given support with odd dietary suggestions, vile tasting nuts, lucky talismans, interesting drawings and trips to the seaside. It is all greatly appreciated and will not be forgotten.

Luv

Magnus xxx

PS. Most of my friends have already rushed off to their GP for a prostate test. If you haven’t done so and you’re over 50 give it a go. Don’t be afraid of the digital rectal examination it is actually the best bit of the whole process and it’s free. This service is not available to women.