On my way to radiation yesterday I found a great little pub, full of old ladies, young navvies and slumming business men all trying to make sense of the World Cup whilst eating vast portions of very wel battered fish.
It was a day for overheard conversations
"Of course the Tunisians should be good. I've heard that the Eastern Europeans practice 18 hrs a day"
"Europe has to be 6 hrs behind us, if it was 6 hrs ahead we'd not be eating lunch"
And then, loudly, in the waiting room of the doctor's surgery
"I've maxxed out two credit cards on this and I'm not maxing out another. We should have let your mother die years ago, 'cause she has the money and she's not sending any our way"
Radiation going okay. First signs of a sore throat today, but nothing major and a doctor who seemed very happy with my progress through the sessions to date.
I even managed to get a phone number out of one of the nurses - must be the newly and rapidly growing hair
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