2nd stage assessment

Dear friends

A few weeks ago I received a letter in the post inviting me for mammogram, as part of a trial for screening younger women, those in the few years approaching 50y, which is the age breast cancer screening starts with the NHS.

So, I went. Ladies, if someone had only told me a fair amount of squashing was involved!  I could have mentally prepared myself 🙂  :). 

Then, less than 2 weeks later, I was called back for 2nd stage screening.  The letter didn’t explain why, I would be told on the day. So, there were several days of anxious waiting.  I tried not to think on it.  We didn’t tell the children anything; though finally Daur1 heard my dear husband ask about the ‘hospital appointment’ and spoke with me.  We had a frank but brief discussion – if there’s anything I’ll be treated and I’m in reasonable good health so I’m sure it’ll be effective 🙂  

Another two mammograms confirmed the findings of the first – an area of dense tissue on which the consultant wanted a biopsy done.  

Two hours later, an ultrasound scan plus several more mammograms – more unpleasant squashing! – and there was nothing identified to do a biopsy on!!  I was given a pink copy of a standard letter with the consultant circling her name saying, we’ll see you again in three years.

I am grateful for modern medicine and more particularly the National Health Service (NHS).  We pay into the NHS for as long as we work through national insurance contributions and taxes.  There may be lots that people moan about… Yes; I don’t particularly think it’s fair that I have to pay for eye tests and spectacles, which are not optional, I’m very short sighted… But I can’t fault that when you need help, or when investigations need doing, consultants are there and very thorough.  I’m grateful for the five women that handled me, most intimately, with care and concern.

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where is the love?…

Dear friends

The state of the world feels so loveless. 

Worshippers, a church in Rouen, France; worshippers, a church in Charleston, USA; worshippers, a mosque Medina, Saudi Arabia. Personally I don’t see much difference.

All lives matter. 

Yesterday evening, I noticed an elderly man in a mobility scooter struggling as he had crossed the road. Having missed or misjudged the kerb, his scooter was lopsided; with wheels in the road and on the pavement, he was unable to manoeuvre it.  Visualising that he and scooter would topple over, I walked towards him.  As I held the scooter while he tried to raise himself, another man appeared who helped the elderly man stand; finally my husband arrived and together we lifted the scooter (very heavy with its battery pack) onto the pavement.  With the elderly man settled and on his way we all separated.  This incident took maybe 2 minutes; I was between 2 bus stops, waiting for my dear husband who was picking me up after work. There were people at both bus stops – nobody moved.  My husband explained that the other man had come out of the civic buildings facing the road.

And the race of those involved: elderly man = Caucasian; man from office = Asian/ Middle Eastern; dear husband and I = African; bus stop passengers = Caucasian/ African/ Asian.  So, what does this tell me? Nothing, absolutely nothing, because all lives matter. We must remember what scripture teaches us.

Jesus said: (Doctrine & Covenants 18 v10)

“Remember the worth of souls is great in the sight of God”. 

And Peter declared: (Acts 10 v34)

Of a truth I perceive that God is no respecter of persons: