Lincoln and a fish and chip tea!

We wake at a quarter to eight, and decide , tentatively, that I feel a little better. This is confirmed, when after breakfast and a shower I set out for the day, but first phone my consultant urologist about a follow up appointment, after the positive PSA result. It transpires that the hospital had dropped me from his panel, as I hadn't seen him for a couple of years, he and I had previously agreed that there was no point in going to see him if the PSA blood tests stayed negative. The hospital tells me it had written to my GP telling him that he now needed to make an appointment for me and, as yet, the doctor had not replied. I call my GP practice and they confirm that a letter has, in fact, been dispatched on Monday. Neither of them thought it necessary to let me know! From the web link that Sarah forwarded for the Johns Hopkins oncology site in the USA, I realise that treatment is not urgently required, but it seems inappropriate that both the hospital and the GP practice thought it advisable to let someone know their cancer had returned. From what I have already learned, the most important thing is to determine how quickly the tumour is growing, at the moment it is microscopic, but its rate of growth will indicate how aggressive it is, and hence how serious. I put in a call to my doctor to suggest that another PSA test, before my specialist appointment comes through, could provide further useful data. The doubling of the PSA from October to January, might suggest something aggressive, but the October reading was only just measurable and therefore not a reliable baseline. A further test, a month after the last one, would provide a better set of comparisons. Unfortunately it is not possible to speak to Dr Pearson and I am advised to call back at 11:45, after surgery. Today is even milder than yesterday and a bright sun is shining out of a clear blue sky as we park on Newbald Road after collecting Dolly and Teddy from Cherry. In the woods the birds are singing happily, perhaps they think that spring has already arrived, I phone Felicity, who confirms that she won't be coming to see "Lincoln", this afternoon and then let Hanne know, in case someone else wants to take the spare place in the car. I could have stayed out longer this morning, the sunshine is delightful, but I am due to collect my passengers at a quarter to one, so we turn back from Black Mill and I drop the terriers back in Cherry for eleven fifteen. On my way home, I call at Morrison's for bread, milk and tomatoes, and then call Dr Pearson, at a quarter to twelve, as requested, he is still busy, but they say he will ring me back. When we arrive home, I give Normy some biscuits and fresh water, before clearing the dog blanket off the back seat and making the car slightly more presentable for my passengers. The phone rings and when I answer, the call has dropped, so I wait for a call back as I change out of my dog walking pants and boots. I have to leave at twelve thirty, so call the surgery to find the Doctor has already left, so I leave a message with the receptionist about the blood test and ask her to pass it on. When I arrive on Albert Terrace, Rosemary has replaced Felicity for the trip and she, Hanne and Thelma, are collected on time and ferried to the cinema, I collect my Orange Wednesday tickets, and we are seated in screen five for the film by one o'clock. The main feature starts twenty minutes later, and it is a masterpiece of collaborative filming, beautifully photographed, with a superb ensemble cast, great script and lovingly directed by Spielberg. It is both grand mythology and a political thriller about the balance and tensions between means and ends, in democracy, the politics of the possible. The cadence of the film is impeccable, neither hurried or boring. Daniel Day Lewis' portrayal of Lincoln, is a centrepiece of excellence in a beautiful, stained glass window that transports me back to the Washington of 1865. We emerge loving Lincoln, for his patience, kindness, determination and political genius, in choosing exactly the right moments at which to make his decisive moves. It is only five hours since the film ended and already I want to see it again. We emerge into the daylight at four and then drive back to Beverley and have tea at Harper's Fish and chip cafe on Lairgate, taking advantage of their, "two for a tenner deal". This provides us each with a medium haddock, chips, mushy peas, tea, bread and butter. The film aroused much enthusiastic discussion, Thelma is both black and a barrister, so the film had extra levels of interest for her, Hanne is Danish and a natural libertarian and Rosemary a retired social worker. Needless to say a good time was had by all, and will, no doubt, be repeated in the future. Back home, Norman is waiting patiently for dinner, which this evening is only a tin of dog food. I call Leslie's daughter, Margaret, for an update, but only get the answer phone, they may be still at the hospital. When I phone Felicity, she sounds much perkier, she has just about recovered from her Norovirus, so I arrange to call with Madiera cake from Marks and Spencer's tomorrow, after I have walked the dogs. Later I listen to my audio book of CJ Sansom's Dominion and then turn in early.