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Early morning trip to the oncologist for a 9am appointment. Dr Sharma from off of the Can I Have My Ball Back? podcast gave my remaining ball a good feel and then we got on with the medical stuff (I am funny). He had all my test results and everything is looking fine - though my body does seem keen to grow the occasional cyst, which he says are harmless. There's a gurt biggun on one of my kidneys, but it's something to keep an eye on rather than worry about. Which is good because I don't want to bother Richard Ison to make another puppet.
I feel better than I have for a long time at the moment (though I didn't feel ill when I had cancer) so I wasn't expecting any bad news and there was none. Two and a half years since the operation, we now move to once a year appointments rather than every six months. And if I get to five years I am apparently immortal. So fingers crossed.
Obviously it's a big relief to be OK and a wondeful thing to have these 6-month (and now 12 month) check ups. I was very paranoid in the months after the cancer, of course and the NHS were always happy to see me and allay my fears (and I had mostly found something unusual that was worth checking, so it wasn't all paranoia). As I strive to get my body into as good a condition as I can get it (I've upped the exercise this week) it's good to get a clean bill of health for most of the insides. I remain in two pieces. Hopefully that's how things will stay for a while. Though decreasing volume welcomed.
Tonight in Northampton with the smallest audience of the tour so far, but two great guests and an appreciative crowd. I'd been watching Jon Pointing in his various TV shows and Abigoliah Schamaun in her three stand up specials for the last day or so and have been very impressed with both of them. Jon had brought me a few gifts from Northampton - I won't spoil the podcast by letting you know what they were - but they certainly livened up proceedings and Abigoliah was forthright and didn't take any shit, just as expected. We were on against Mike Tindall in the Northcott and he did better for an audience with his tales of rugby and shagging a royal (I assume). His car was leaving at the same time as we did and we looked at each other through the window. I wonder if he remembered me from Celebrity Poker. I don't think so.
