Good morning people. How wonderful it is to be back again albeit just for another flying weekend trip. Well I guess I better begin my report by getting the Steam Packet out of the way first.

I crossed over last Monday morning on the Super seacat, now named the “Viking”. I think I said last week that these fast craft vessels should not be given names. They haven’ earned them and don’t deserve them. They are merely water busses. They come out of the factory as numbers and that is all they should be identified by. So, I caught the number 24 to Liverpool last Monday morning. I spoke last week of the awful food that is dished out onboard the Super Seacat. I can tell you it had not improved. ‘Well why did you have a second go at it?’ I hear you ask. I once knew a publican by the name of Herbie Nelson who had the Whitstone Pub in Ballasalla. His beer was absolutely awful. Herbie was proud of the fact that he had a reputation for serving up the worst beer on the Island. When he was asked the question, “When Herbie, are you going to do something about your awful beer!” “Never,” replied Herbbie. “People come from all over the Island because they can’t believe how bad my beer is,” said Herbie. “There are even day trips from Fleetwood because folks over there can’t believe it either. If I was to do anything about it, there would be nobody in here!” Well, I think the Steam Packet have adopted this policy regarding the food on their Super seacat. Barbara could not believe how bad it was, so insisted on trying it. I went along with her and ordered a full breakfast bap. I have sent off the so-called fresh Ramsey bakery bap to be valued by an antiques dealer on the Merseyside. I didn’t recognize the taste of my egg, but then maybe I should have asked for a chicken’s egg. I won’t even comment on the state of the sausages. Anyway I contrast that with the very reasonably priced lunch of sausage, egg, beans and chips I very much enjoyed on the Ben My Chree yesterday. In fact crossing over on the Ben yesterday made me think it difficult to believe I am sailing with the same company I sailed out with the previous Monday. My message to the packet is, get rid of your water busses and buy another Ben My Chree and I promise I will not write another poem. Is it too late to cancel the slightly newer water bus? Probably!

Well now folks, down to business. I have just returned from my morning jaunt around Poulson Park with Skipper. Over on the Wirral I really missed not being able to just get up and go for a walk. Shortly I will head out to the flying club for breakfast. Something else I have really missed. None –the-less, I have had a really good time on the Wirral this last week. There are miles and miles of empty beaches. On Wednesday we walked from Meols, along the coast to Leasowe lighthouse and back, a round trip of around 2-3 miles. We hardly met a soul and Skipper adored it. The rapid tidal flow of the Mersey meant that without any local knowledge, we only walked on the beach during falling tides. We walked the Wirral shoreline each morning and evening. I think Skipper would very much recommend a holiday in Meols or on the Wirral to all dogs. In fact he is thinking of starting his own dog blog when my treatment is over.

The treatment has gone well this week, although my appointments were all up the swanny. The machines kept breaking down and my 12-15 appointments were often put back until 6 or 7 in the evening. I was not kept hanging about the hospital though, it simply meant that I had to phone in every day to check if the machines were working. On Thursday, A patient who was being treated just before me decided he had had enough and trashed the equipment. I don’t think he did that much damage though as it only meant a delay of an hour or so. The treatment to the head is not a pleasant experience. It involves lying on a steel bed. A helmet/mask is then placed over your face and then pulled tightly behind your head by four straps. These straps are then secured to the steel bed. Your head is now tied very tightly to the bed. You can’t move any part of your face, and breathing of course is possible, but difficult. Once the helmet/mask is secure, and all the machines are in place, the nursing staff leave the room and control everything remotely. You can hear the machines manoeuvring around your bed. The bed starts to lift up and swings from side to side. When everything is lined up, you hear the machine delivering the radiation to your head. A horrible gassy smell fills your nose. The mask is clamped firmly around your face and head so you can’t instinctively turn your nose away from it. This procedure lasts for about 12 minutes. The only way to deal with it is to think of other things. Well in my case to get through the ordeal, I told myself, for every session of this treatment, I might be buying a couple of years of life. So I just put up with these 12 minutes afer all, its only four boiled eggs. All I can say to you people is this. If you don’t want to have to experience this treatment, if you smoke, pack it in, otherwise you will probably one day just have to put up with the treatment like me. I have to say though, that Clatterbridge hospital is absolutely fantastic. I don’t know where they train their staff or what kind of selection policy they have when recruiting staff. But whatever they do, it should be copied by every other hospital. The trouble with that would be that nobody would want to come out of hospital.

It is now time for me to go and have my breakfast out at the flying club. If time allows I will be here blogging tomorrow. I have missed you all very much, and I really look forward to being back home again a week on Wednesday when my treatment ends. I will however be back on the Island next weekend. So people, for now and hopefully until tomorrow, this is Tom Glassey with News at 9.45, on leave from the banks of the Mersey, and now back on the banks of the Silverburn.