Time for golf

We were blessed with a glorious day for a game of golf at Queenstown GC today.
It was only 7C but it felt much warmer as there was only a little breeze.

The grass is not at its best yet as it is still winter; neither was the golf, but it was good to get out while I have the energy.

Surrounded by water on three sides and mountains on two, the course has some beautiful scenery. Sarah and I played golf with another lady from Cheltenham Ladies College who not only went to the same school, but also the same school house as Sarah.

To prove it is a small world, her son in law installed our double glazing and she lives on the same hill in Queenstown. While Sarah was busy finding all this out, I was hacking my way down a few holes, in and out of bushes and trees getting my money’s worth.

My hair has started to fall out. I knew it was going to happen but it still caused me despair when I found large chunks of it in my hands. The loss is not so noticeable on the outside, having already had a buzz cut; it is now very thin on top and at the sides.

My scalp feels like someone is constantly tugging at the roots; if touch it, it is like rubbing a brush the wrong way. When I wash it, the floor is covered in bits; I have to hoover the pillows and sheets each morning otherwise it looks like some cat or dog has slept under my head. I am starting to feel a bit like a badly plucked chicken.
For once in our lives, Sarah has more hair than me.

We were getting ready for golf today, due to leave in 10 minutes and Sarah was still in a skimpy pair of shorts, messing around in our kitchen. Daft as a brush.

I miss my hair. It is now much colder and draftier. I have to put a duvet over my head to stay warm at night. I am spending a lot of time wearing a beanie, but the trouble with always wearing a beanie is that it gets too hot.

For golf, I started with a woolly beanie, progressed to a thin cotton one, before resorting to exposing my rather cropped head.

On top of this I am getting the regular all over hot and cold body sweats that come with the menopause. I start fully rugged up and cold and end up with stripping off as many clothes as possible whilst trying to stay decent. According to the bone marrow transplant coordinator I am in peri-menopause (early stage of menopause) and will need to take contraceptive pills during the time I am in Christchurch having a transplant. Starting next week. The reason being is that I will be so weak that the medics do not want me to lose any blood at all. Another drug to add to the list.

I’ve had lots of other checks on heart and lungs (xrays, echo cardiogram and spirometry/ lung capacity). All are normal and tests were painless. Worst was the respiratory viral nasal swab. A nurse sticks something that looks like an ear bud up the upper reaches of your nose and has a good poke around. The results are sent off for analysis for viruses.

We have enjoyed a bit more experimenting with food this week.

I made leek and potato soup, that turned out looking like green gloop, but tastes good
and apple crumble with an almond topping.

Meanwhile Sarah has been trying to convince me that her chocolate and blackberry muffins were low cholesterol as she made them with 200g of sugar not 300 and 2 eggs not 3.

Eat one of these and you feel full. Naughty but delicious.

We always try to make the most of good weather. Must be the British blood in us, that we have to rush outside the moment the sun shines.

Great walk along New Chums Gully near Arrowtown on Monday; Sarah deciding a walk was just not long enough and cycling back as well. The track was used by the gold miners in the 1860s and we spotted some hut ruins here and there in the clearings. It’s a good walk with splendid views.

I just managed to struggle along the track and complete the walk, with the usual uncoordinated dance of stripping clothes on and off. I finished the walk completely drenched in sweat and preferred rushing home for a hot bath to a 2hour cold cycle ride.

Luckily for me, I have got my taste buds back and can manage a glass of wine again without thinking “yuk!, this is like vinegar”. Sadly, this state is only temporary as the drugs start to ramp up again, pre Christchurch hospital and stem cell transplant next week.
I am not looking forward to this, but it is something to endured. A sort of surreal time out.
Pain and despair will be over soon enough, if I can just get through the next horrible bit.

There are always beautiful views to make you feel good.