It is 9.20a.m., and I am back from this mornings walk. We have an easterly blow at about force 4. The sun is shining though. Last night I took a bit of a wander at 10 o’clock around Poulson Park. I like to go in the dark as it means I can usually let Skipper fun loose, as the darkness usually means no one else will be in the park. It was a beautiful night. The grass had been mowed earlier in the day and the smell of the freshly mowed grass in the damp evening air made it a really pleasurable experience.

Being blind has its advantages. For a start you don’t need to divide the 24 hour day in to day and night. You can have 24 hours of daylight or 24 hours of darkness if you like. It’s up to me basically. I can go off in the depths of the night and wander freely, totally alone, not in the slightest will I be impaired or restricted by the darkness, but of course I don’t. Wandering about at night time, with no sunshine and no birds singing, is just a little bit like walking in the dark. I am happy to settle for just pinching an extra hour at the end of the day from my sighted companions.

I am becoming accustomed to pinching time. I guess chemotherapy is really all about pinching time. Today I have to go to Nobles for blood tests so that I can begin my last session of chemo tomorrow. Its also a big day for Barbara as she has to check in with her consultant later who, hopefully is going to tell her what is the problem with her chest and breathing difficulties.

In two weeks time, I will have a CT scan and this will let us know if my chemotherapy has rebuffed my cancer or not. This voyage has been a long one. We began in the sea of despair. We had many stormy days and at the beginning of the voyage, a doctor had told me that there was very little that could be done for me. We crossed the ocean of despair, and then round Cape Hope. We are now halfway across the sea of promise. Along the way I have known good times, and some not so good times. However, we have braved every storm and stood up to everything the elements have thrown at us. All of you good folk have played your part too in helping me deal with this situation. Not just because of your very positive comments and emails. Back in February, I did not know what a blog was. Writing the blog each day not only gave me something to occupy my mind with, but it also has given me the outlet to express myself, and possibly to help others cope with whatever life in general has dealt them. I am grateful to you all. I know that around 100 of you log on each day; I also know that the blog is printed off each day for folk who don’t have access to computers. Indeed yesterday’s blog is probably blowing up and down Malew Street as I write.

Well a big thank you also to you who print the blog, so that amongst others, my Aunty Joyce in Ballasalla, Aunt Trudy in Port Erin, Pauline Cregeen in Port St. Mary and Diane at the gift shop in Castletown, get to read the blog. These are just the ones I know of, there are probably others. Collectively, you have all made a huge contribution to my recovery. Well now its time for me to climb back up onto the bridge and take my turn on the wheel. The sea of promise is calm, and the beautiful Isle of somewhere lies dead ahead.

Until tomorrow then, this Tom Glassey with News at 10, on the banks of the Silverburn River.