Fun and games at home lately, the kids being right little ... teenagers, which has only added to my disinclination to post over the past few days.
That and the news that a really good mate decided to do the right thing and get a medical because as an early fifties type it's the responsible thing to do... only to find he has advanced prostate cancer.
Fuck me why would anyone go to a doctor's?
He's taking it as you would would expect from him... I quote: "bugger it... I'll work twice as hard, surf twice as much and I'm damn sure gonna take a few with me"
From that you'll gather he's not the usual roll over and die type and he even has plans to either top himself by learning how to sky dive and neglecting to pull the cord, or get towed into the biggest possible wave at one of our hell spots down here, pull in and not come up. My response to the last comment was "yeah but it'd be just like you to make the bloody wave."
Laugh... we almost cried.
Still, I sense a certain understandable dread of bald and bedridden as it's not him at all, so to be honest I'd respect the exit strategy. That being said there's a lot of fight there and I hope the initial prognosis is tempered a little.
Since I'm not one for prayers it's time for a reprise of the Great Ringworm in the sky.