Update: June 2025

 

2025 06 11

Hi everyone –

I hope you’re all doing well, and managing whatever life is throwing at you!

Or is that a projection? Maybe life isn’t throwing lots of things at you, right now – as it is at me.

This oral chemo (it’s been a week, now) is not a walk in the park! Neither literally nor figuratively. Garth was hoping that it would help me regain some energy, but thus far the opposite has happened (which may actually be because the chemo is doing its work). I’ve been spending most of my time in bed, sometimes feeling rather down.

I spoke to the chemo room sister, and she has arranged a prescription of Prednisone (steroids) to give me more energy.

There are also some wonderful glimmers:

·       The chemo seems to be working on the pleural effusion! 🎉🎉🎉 I’m not breathless at all.

 

·       I have managed to get myself up for a handful of special experiences: running a circle dancing Thursday morning session with lots of help (including from Julia), joining in where I could; we went to our friend Toni’s wonderful play, Cottonwool Kid, where she had a much deserved standing ovation; we had a family farewell tea for Julia and Julian here on Saturday (not that I wanted to say farewell to them, but it was a lovely “gesellige” afternoon on our enclosed patio with the rain pelting down outside).

 

·       My sister Rosemary has given rainbow crystals to many people in our extended family, and has asked them to think of me every time their crystal makes rainbows. (Photo of my crystal, brought by Jonno on his return from Sydney.)

At the same time, we’ve had some weird things happen, especially two:

·       On Sunday (Julia and Julian’s departure day), we woke up to a sodden floor in the passage. Gail and I were trying to work out what had caused it, and finally realised that evening that the geyser had burst! It was replaced yesterday. Whew!

  

·       Our main set of house keys (including remotes) vanished during the process of final packing and loading the car to go to the airport on Sunday. We have searched high and low, with some help from Rosemary in trying to visualise where they are ... gone!! And no, they have not pitched up in Julia and Julian’s luggage in London. 😢 It seems that we’re going to have all the locks and remote codes replaced, as there’s a chance that someone could have taken them in all our ins and outs on the day. I still think they’re in the house, but where??!!

We are insured for both of these expensive events. 😅 

Today’s glimmer: it’s a beautiful day today, and I’ve hung out a nice big load of washing (a favourite occupation). Now reclining on the patio, which is open to the elements on this warm, sunny day.

Please let me know how you are doing? It’s always good to know what’s happening in your lives.

Lots of love 🌹❤️

 

  

Four siblings and Marjorie! And an inset of the fifth sibling:

2025 06 26

Hi everyone – greetings from cold, wet and wintry Cape Town!

As I reach the end of my week off from oral chemo, I can really feel the difference! Those two weeks taking chemo were really gruelling and made me very wobbly, but I’m still sure it was like that because the chemo was doing its work. I continue to breathe easily! In this week off, I’ve stopped feeling wobbly, taught and done some circle dancing, seen a few people, wandered around Mineral World in Simon’s Town, and driven for the first time in four months!

I’ve also brought my book to the point where I could give it to a handful of beta readers and request someone to do a cover design.

Photo: a busy bee, like I’ve been this past week.

Yesterday I had the blood test to check that I’m ready for chemo Cycle 2 (of 6), as well as a lung X-ray for Garth to assess the pleural effusion. I have just seen him, and he has confirmed that the effusion is very small now – yay! – and given me the go-ahead to start Cycle 2 tomorrow. Holding thumbs for a less bumpy ride.

Right now, I’m in the chemo room at the hospital, having a 15-minute drip of bone-strengthening medication, which is standard before Cycle 2 of this chemo.

I’m sending good vibes and blessings to people close to me, especially one (you know who you are!), who are dealing with their own health issues right now.

And lots of love to everyone reading this. 🌹❤️

 Update: May 2025

2025 05 08

Hi everyone -

I hope you are doing well, or at least managing to deal with whatever life throws at you.

Today was quite a day for me!

I had fondly believed that by now I would be taking the new medication, would be over the effects of radiation, and would no longer need pleural taps. So today was the day my morning circle dancing group reconvened, 11 weeks after we last danced together. I had requested help from Gail, Vonni and Julia – this turned out to be the best possible plan, as none of my fond beliefs had been realised.

We had a wonderful session, with these three people and several more “holding the circle” (and me on the sidelines due to shortness of breath) – thank you all!

The new medication (oral chemo) will only start next week or the week after, as the blood test takes a long time to run.

I’m still tired, with slightly odd digestive cramps and discomfort, from the radiation.

And I needed a pleural tap urgently: they let me know, just before dancing, that it would be this afternoon! As usual, it was seriously horrible, and yet again it was 2 litres, and I’m still here to tell the tale.

In the time between dancing and the procedure, five of us – Gail, Julia, Maxine, Winnie and I – had a brief and beautiful time at Chart Farm.

I’m now resting at home with our little helpers.

Thanks so much for your good vibes and prayers and wishes – they are with me all the time.

Lots of love 🌹❤️

 

 2025 05 16

Thanks for all the lovely supportive messages over the past few days.

A weird thing happened, though: all hell seemed to break loose on Wednesday, my first day of chemo, together with spiking temperatures that night, and I thought I would never be able to continue. They asked me to pause the chemo and did yet another set of blood tests yesterday – they found that I have a hectic tummy bug, unrelated to the chemo! 😳

Chemo is paused until we sort this out (with the fistfuls of meds that I've become so used to in recent years 🙄).

Life is complicated!

Lots of love 🌹❤️

2025 05 22

Hi everyone –

More than a week after it started, the symptoms of this tummy bug are still coming and going. The medical team is going to do further tests (don’t ask!) to see exactly which bug it is.

As the bug has not left yet, I have not been able to start the oral chemo. We’re now aiming for very early next week.

There’s also the other ongoing question of my breathing, and I am again quite breathless (although our lovely new little oximeter confirms that I’m not short of oxygen!). Garth has requested that I try not to have a pleural tap at this stage. I’m very happy to oblige, even though my breathing doesn’t enjoy that so much – especially each evening. He wants this because we need to see, as quickly as possible, whether the chemo will start to help reduce the pleural effusion.

There have been some recent glimmers (this word is being popularised these days, as the opposite of “trigger” – it’s about the moments in one’s life when one feels joy, happiness, peace or gratitude) for me, the main one being that we celebrated Gail’s 70th birthday on Sunday, and I was able to be part of her small family lunch at Seaforth.

Today was both frustrating and glimmering: I wasn’t feeling well enough to teach (or even be at) my morning circle dancing group. So, for the first time in our 23 sessions, I handed over entirely to Gail and Vonni to run the session without me. The glimmer is that they did it beautifully (as I’ve heard from many people). This is what I wrote to the members (some of whom are also reading this, now) after today’s session:

 

My huge thanks and appreciation to Gail and Vonni, who ran the session so well in my absence, and to all of you for supporting them in many ways – with both the dancing and the logistics. Thanks to Bernice, who made a beautiful centrepiece from the “ingredients” I sent along, and to all the people who regularly help us to set up and pack away.

(Photo: the centrepiece.)

Thanks, as always, for your ongoing love and support.

Lots of love 🌹❤️

2025 05 29

16:50

Hi everyone –

Thanks for your support after my last message!

A lot has happened in the past week:

The initial response from the pathology test on my stomach bug was that no culture had grown, but that Dr Carissa Van Aarde (Garth’s other GP assistant) was going to prescribe an antibiotic anyway. I heard from her, today, that a culture had actually grown: salmonella! No wonder it was so bad and lasted so long.

I can only start the oral chemo after the course of antibiotics is complete and I have seen Garth again: early next week, if all goes as planned.

With all of these delays and increasing shortness of breath, I have not been able to avoid a pleural tap. This time, I’m going to have it as an inpatient, as that’s the quickest way for them to find a slot for me – if not later today (which is getting rather unlikely by now), then as soon as possible tomorrow.

So here I am, in “my” unit (haematology) of “my” hospital. Not quite my favourite “room with a view”, but actually next door to it in a four-person room. (Appreciation to Gail for going home to pack and bring my overnight bag! I didn’t expect to be admitted.)

This time, I have been given a sedative to put under my tongue if the pleural tap becomes intolerable ... let’s see.

There have been some glimmers over the past few days: circle dancing on Saturday (mostly chair dancing, but joining in when it was very sedate); a good friend’s 70th afternoon birthday gathering on Sunday; lovely photos of Rosemary’s family gathering in Sydney for Jonno; a visit from Julia on her return to Cape Town after a brief time in Gauteng and Kruger.

All in all: further lessons in patience. One can’t rush these things, no matter how much one wishes to!

Sending huge best wishes to everyone who is dealing with their own lessons in patience at the moment. There are many of us.

Lots of love 🌹❤️

 

19:50

They surprised me by taking me for the pleural tap at about 17:30!

This one was done sensitively and gently, with a cushioned surface to lean on, to my left, and an Ativan taken about 20 minutes before we started. Being late in the day, nobody was rushing anybody and we could chat while it happened. Around about 1.5 litres I did start coughing as usual, and they gave me some oxygen and some water, but I didn’t experience the almost-fainting, utterly desperate feelings of the previous three. I think the total amount was just below 2 litres.

Very tired now, but was able to eat the supper that had waited for me for about 90 minutes!

So glad it’s over, and thanks for all the good vibes! 🌹❤️

 

2025 05 30

Hi again –

Can you believe, I've just had pleural tap #5! This morning's X-ray suggested that this should be done, which was proved when a further litre emerged. Today’s radiologist was happy to use the same method of making it as comfortable as possible, which helped a lot.

 

I now weigh 3kg less than I did this time yesterday! (Not a recommended weight-loss method, though!)

The in-hospital physio gave me an excellent session this morning, and I will continue doing physio exercises from now on. (Interesting what you can access when you're an inpatient!)

I’ll spend tonight here again, and will have further physio tomorrow. Thanks for all the love, and enjoy whatever the evening holds for you.

Lots of love 🌹❤️

 

 

2025 05 31

Home!

Had a great physio session today. The physiotherapist recommended that I should do gentle walking every day (as there's no further sciatic pain), and also go for further outpatient physio (I will).

Thanks to Gail for bringing me home, and to Layla for welcoming me (Neria isn’t yet home from doggy daycare).

I hope the circle dancers are busy enjoying a fantastic session, right now!

Lots of love, always 🌹❤️

 

Update: April 2025

 

2025 04 07

Hi everyone – 

Some of you have asked whether my radiotherapy has started … not yet! I had the planning scan on 28 March, and heard at the end of last week that the treatment is scheduled to start late tomorrow (Tuesday) afternoon, for 8 to 10 treatment sessions. If it’s 8, it will finish on 17 April; otherwise on 23 April. My next CT scan is planned for 5 May.

The sciatica-type pain is still with me, but it’s much less and only intermittent; I’ve been doing some seated dancing (and the tiniest amount of gentle dancing) at Saturday circle dancing.

Last Thursday, I finally acknowledged that the Letrozole had crept up to being a BIG EISH for me – as bad as it was three years ago. So I stopped taking it. Continuing with my life’s journey has started to feel like a good thing to do, again, instead of the grey-blanket feeling that had become the price to pay for potentially holding some nasty developments at bay. (The leg cramps, a side effect of both Tamoxifen and Letrozole, have already almost completely vanished.) The moment I stopped taking that EISH, I let Garth know that we need to make our next decisions: hopefully I’ll be able to find out more when I’m there tomorrow.

There was a rainbow for a few minutes this afternoon – the first one in absolute ages.   (Photo: origami that Gail did, five years ago, with a rainbow from one of our suncatchers.)

Thanks, as always, for all the love and support. It means the world to me.

Lots of love 🌹❤️

2025 04 10

Hi everyone –

The radiotherapy is going well – thanks for all the support about it! We did Day 3 of 10 today, and as usual it was quick and uncomplicated.

I’m not going to do daily updates, as that would get quite repetitive, but today there is something else to tell ... the summary is in this message, and the detail is in the other message of today, which is only to be read by the unsqueamish, please!

I have mentioned, after each of the last three or so CT scans, that there’s been some fluid round my left lung (it grew from nothing; it shrank; it grew a bit again the last time). Garth had asked me to look out for shortness of breath. This became an intermittent reality recently, and suddenly escalated over about the past 10 days. When I went for my pre-radiation consultation on Tuesday, Dr Yusuf Parker (who works with Garth) said that it was time for me to have the fluid drained.

That’s what we did this morning! It was a bigger procedure than I expected, but (as several medical people promised) I am breathing much more normally now! And, as always at Constantiaberg, the love and care I received were phenomenal.

Appreciation to Gail for being close by, throughout.

I’m recovering in bed now.

Whew!

Lots of love 🌹❤️

 

2025 04 10 (2)

ONLY FOR UNSQUEAMISH PEOPLE

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This procedure is done in the radiology department, as it’s guided by ultrasound.

The correct term for what was being drained is a pleural effusion. It’s probably linked to the nodules inside my lung – they sent a small amount for analysis, just to make sure.

The drainage was done through my left back (so I didn’t have to look – yay!) with a local anaesthetic, a needle and a catheter. (I was sitting up throughout.) After about 20 or 30 minutes, a litre had already come out! It then became a little painful inside, kind-of like a stitch. They told me this was probably my lung re-inflating. Say what??!! It hadn’t occurred to me that it was deflated, but it was in fact partially collapsed to make room for all that fluid. By then a further half-litre had come out.

They then removed that catheter and put another one in nearby, to see if any more would come out: it did! Total: two litres!!!

After all that, I felt really weird for a while (faint; sweaty; nauseous; tearful; drained – scuse the pun!) and had to drink water and lie down until I felt better.

The process ended with a chest X-ray, and then it was time for radiotherapy. Only 5 minutes of that today.

I’m still quite achy on my left side – that’s apparently normal, but I can let them know if it hasn’t subsided by tomorrow.

Whew again!!!

Lots of love 🌹❤️

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2025 04 11

A quick report-back from today:

As I was still quite achy this morning, I went back to the radiology department to let them know. They did an X-ray to see if anything was as it shouldn’t be.

The good news: None of the problems that could be a concern have happened.

The bad news: “Nature abhors a vacuum”, so there’s already a small amount of new fluid there since yesterday.🙄 They told me today that some people come there quite regularly for it to be drained! I’m hoping that I won’t have to be one of them. It’s possible that Garth may be able to help via medication.

The best news: on our way home, Gail and I popped in on our dancing friend Caroline to drop something off. We all laughed a lot together, and then I found myself breathing more easily than I have in a very long time. Proving what we all know: Laughter is the best medicine.

Lots of love 🌹❤️

 

2025 04 16

Hi everyone –

The radiotherapy has continued to go well, and there are only 3 more sessions left! I have almost zero pain, now. (But some expected fatigue.)

The aches after draining the fluid from around my lung also eventually went away.

This morning, I had a consultation with Garth. He confirmed that the analysis of the fluid shows that it’s related to the existing nodules in my lung and there’s nothing new involved. The challenge, now, is to choose the next treatment with the best chance of preventing an ongoing cycle of accumulation and drainage – together with a lifestyle that most closely matches the wonderfulness (if there’s such a word!) that I’ve had over the past year or so.

Two different treatments are still available to me. To help us decide between them, we’ve booked my next CT scan for Thursday 24 April (about 10 days earlier than originally planned). Next will be a further consultation, and then I’ll let you know what we choose.

Thanks, as always, for being there for me!

So much love 🌹❤️

(We drove home via Sunrise Beach – photo from the car)

 

2025 04 23

Hi everyone –

Radiotherapy is done and dusted! I rang the bell today! (My third time.)

I have no more sciatic pain, which is a massive relief.

At the same time my breathing has become very tight again, so Garth moved my CT scan to yesterday (it had been scheduled for tomorrow), to see whether I needed another pleural tap. The results showed that it is needed (eeuw!), and he requested that for today. But the radiology department was short-staffed today, so they couldn’t fit me in and we’re trying again tomorrow. Meanwhile, I exert myself as little as possible. (And all I want to do is dance!)

Within the next few days, we’ll discuss the next steps regarding medication – which was the original intention of this CT scan! And one of the intentions of the medication is to try to reduce or remove the need for pleural taps.

Thanks for all your wishes and follow-ups!

Lots of love 🌹❤️

2025 04 24

Quick update: they have eventually fitted me in tomorrow morning. We’re just back from the blood test I now needed again (the result from the previous one expired yesterday 🙄).

Looking forward to breathing more easily!

Thanks, as always, for your love and support. 🌹❤️

 

2025 04 25

Pleural tap done!

I’m not going to pretend it was easy or fun, because it wasn’t ... but I’m still here to tell the tale! Also to do my darnedest not to have any more of those!

Now home resting, and hugely appreciating the love and prayers and good vibes.

Lots of love

(Photo: at the hospital entrance, just after I rang the bell on Tuesday)

 

2025 04 29

Hi everyone –

After a long weekend mostly devoted to getting over the pleural tap (muscle aches; trying to breathe deeply enough; wondering if it’s already filling up again) and the radiation (fatigue; some digestive issues), and after reminding Garth’s receptionist that I really, really needed to speak with him, he managed to squeeze in a phone call to me this afternoon.

Garth surprised me with the news that last week’s CT scan had shown little change to the nodules inside my lung – I had been concerned that the large amount of fluid (2 litres, again, on Friday) represented an increase in the number and size of the nodules.

We have now agreed that I’m going to have a course of oral chemo, to try to bring the fluid under control and to manage the metastases in general. For the second time in my life, I’ve just consented to chemo! Who would ever have thought! This one is quite gentle, and doesn’t have the side effects of nausea and hair loss, but it may cause some skin irritation. I also have to pass a blood test (tomorrow) to prove that I can tolerate it.

I need to take things gently, for now, but I’m not in any immediate danger. (Gail and I were relieved to hear the latter!)

There may still be a further need for a pleural tap. Please send good vibes to divert all excess fluid, from me and everyone else, towards completely extinguishing the mountain fires in Cape Town!

Lots of love 🌹❤️

(Photo: we managed a gentle outing on Sunday.)

Update: March 2025 

2025 03 11

Hi everyone –

At the start of this journey of mine in 2017 I wrote, “Life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans.” (By the way, that quote from 1957 is the same age as me – it’s by writer Allen Saunders.)

When I sent out my update after my consultation with Garth, I didn’t mention something else I was dealing with, although many of you know it by now – due to its comprehensive interference with all my plans ever since!

Sciatica. Ouch!

The pain had started that very morning, after my push-me-pull-you swim in rough waves at Muizenberg the evening before.

After four Body Stress Release sessions, it’s improving but by no means gone. I can sit or lie flat without any pain, but walking, driving and dancing aggravate it, which is maddening! I’ve had to cancel one circle dancing session and miss three others. I’m missing the dancing hugely! (Confession, though: during the first week, I went ahead with two long-standing special circle dancing commitments, which I absolutely loved but which left me in agony. A hard lesson.)

So by the time I started the Letrozole it was almost a non-event! (Appreciation to the people who asked how it was going, even before I started.) I am feeling quite daunted at the moment, but my guess is that – even if there is some “eish” – it’s more about the sciatica than caused by the Letrozole. Especially as I’m fine when good things are happening – and they do!

This past weekend was one leg of my Class of 1975 reunion, at the school for Founders Day where they especially honour the 50-year cohort, and then a dinner on Saturday evening. Most (but not all) of it organised by me. (Some of you reading this know all about it, either through being there or through being part of the plans for September – thank you!) Also our dear friends Jimmy and Alec from the UK have just arrived for a brief visit, and it’s wonderful to see them.

Last but not least, I’m able to sit at the computer with no issues, so have been able to work and do various other things, including making a start on finalising my book – it’s back from my wonderful editor, Liz M. Should we add a chapter on sciatica? Nah ... don’t think so. But perhaps we should emphasise the lesson of patience a bit more: it seems that this hasn’t yet been thorough enough.🙄 Not much fun for Gail, either.

This book-writing process is so much more than I’d expected. I had believed it was ready to roll until Liz pointed out – sensitively, perceptively and kindly – how it could be improved. So that’s what I’ve started on, now. Next comes taking the plunge to publish it.

I hope you’re navigating your way through wild seas more successfully than I did – I’d love to know how you are!

Lots of love 🌹❤️

2025 03 20

Hi everyone –

Thanks for all the support after my previous message!

It had not occurred to me that the sciatica could be linked to cancer-related spinal issues, but two doctors I’m close to (thank you – you know who you are!) recommended that I should let Garth know what was happening. He immediately requested an MRI of my full spine, which I had yesterday. He has just phoned me with the results (yes, way after hours – that's how he makes sure he gets round to everyone). Even though it’s a mixed bag, as I've come to expect, I'm also feeling reassured. Here we go:

A lot is going on in my spine (bones and discs), to do with degeneration related to my age and, especially, to metastases (even the ones that have been successfully dealt with can also be part of general weakening). It’s extremely likely that there’s an undisplaced fracture (which means that the parts of the bone aren’t misaligned) in my left sacrum, as there’s inflammation in that area and the symptoms are the same as the pain I have.

A “normal” fracture of a healthy bone would be left to self-heal, and the Letrozole might possibly also help with healing over the next while, but radiotherapy will help more quickly and will be able to target the bone deposit that’s causing the problem. We are going to go ahead with this. It’s complicated by the fact that I have already had radiotherapy on my left hip (the ileac blade) and Garth must be cautious about cumulative treatment in the same area, so he has to calculate a reduced radiotherapy dose and target the placement very finely. I’ll have a preparatory scan in a week to 10 days’ time (we have to wait for the medical aid authorisation), then Garth will calculate the dose, and then – all going well – I’ll have about 8 to 10 treatments, starting in two or three weeks’ time.

At present, I must continue to do very little exercise: no going for walks; no dancing (other than minimal teaching when standing, or some seated dancing); no driving for now; no swimming in rough seas!

So why am I reassured?

Because I no longer feel doomed by this.

I no longer have the fear that my next step is into a wheelchair. I can look forward to dancing again. These are worth a great deal!

Wishing everyone a Happy Equinox (here in Cape Town it was at 11:01 today), and the South Africans a Happy Human Rights Day tomorrow.

(Photo: my patchwork trousers – a favourite. They remind me of me: we keep putting new patches on the bits of me that have worn out.)

Lots of love 🌹❤️

 Update: February 2025

 

2025 02 21

Hi everyone –

The mind-body connection is a very interesting one. When one feels and looks very well and is able to function just fine, yet the results of some monitoring at least partially contradict that, it’s hard to know what to make of it all!

I had my routine CT scan on Wednesday, plus the usual consultation with Garth the mensch oncologist today. He told me that the scan shows we’ve already reached Tamoxifen’s sell-by date for me, as there are a few new (small) nodules in my lower left lung, no reductions in the size of the existing ones, and the fluid outside that lung has slightly increased in volume. If the fluid is left untreated, it’s eventually going to cause some nasty symptoms.

At the same time, it’s not all bad: my bones continue to be good, with no need for radiation or anything like that. (And another not-bad thing is that stopping Tamoxifen may also bring an end to the horrid nightly leg cramps that have been its main side effect.)

So, what to do next? Garth, Gail and I had a long and detailed discussion about my options, and ultimately agreed that I would move on to Letrozole. This is the same anti-oestrogen drug that I tried three years ago and described as “a great big EISH” at the time. But there were several other factors that could have caused my abreaction just then, and a lot else has changed for me, so we are trying it once more. If the “EISH” factor kicks in again, we’ll move straight on to the next anti-oestrogen drug, Fulvestrant, which is an injection (typically monthly) rather than an oral treatment.

I have also reconciled myself to the need to take a CDK4/6 inhibitor, which is an oral drug to block the activity of cyclin-dependent kinase (CDK) 4 & 6 proteins that would otherwise continue to increase the growth of the cancer cells. It is always used in conjunction with an anti-oestrogen drug, and usually leads to a high response rate that lasts several years. However, it can only be used in conjunction with one anti-oestrogen drug per person. So, if I start it in conjunction with Letrozole and then Letrozole stops working for me, it’s also an immediate farewell to the CDK4/6 inhibitor. Whereas if I only start it if and when I eventually move on to Fulvestrant, I can continue to use it until the end of my time on anti-oestrogen drugs.

And after that?

I had thought that this would be the end of the road, but it’s actually not the case.

Garth had once told me that chemotherapy is not recommended for oestrogen-senstive breast cancer. Over time, though, he’s unpacked the nuances of this for me. What he meant was: chemo – even the hard-hitting RCHOP chemo that I had for lymphoma – can’t cure oestrogen-sensitive breast cancer or its metastases, so it’s pointless going through all that when the aim is to manage the cancer rather than to cure it. However, once all the anti-oestrogen drugs have been exhausted, an oral chemo that is much gentler than RCHOP (and doesn’t cause hair loss etc) is available to me.

All discussions with Garth have the main aim of balancing quality and quantity of life, and he is as keen as I am that I should be able to continue dancing and living life to the full, for as long as possible.

As always, huge appreciation to all of you for your ongoing connection with Gail and me, and for the support you give us, in so many ways.

(Photo: Gail found this self-seeded portulaca this morning in our little courtyard. To me, it says: “Keep on keeping on!”)

Lots of love 🌹❤️

PS: Although these messages are mainly for updates on my health etc, I feel that it’s important to mention something that has hugely impacted the South African circle dancing community, including me: the loss of the wonderful Phil Smith at the beginning of this year, after he’d had a brain aneurysm and an operation on it in August and had been in hospital for five months. He and I were exactly the same age. Phil leaves a legacy of his choreography of about 80 beautiful dances, plus videos of many of them, plus the memory of his facilitation of the Cape Town Saturday sessions. He also leaves a huge hole in our lives: we miss his love of life, of dancing, of family and more. If you look back at the photos of my “I Survived” party, you can see Phil in all the photos of the dancing. He’s the tall, thin one in shorts. Fly free, Phil. Love from me, always.