Today is my 80th Birthday.
It's a Marmite Day. That is to say one either loves it or hates it.
A friend recently reached that age and refused to acknowledge it.
I want everyone to know and I shall be celebrating. Nothing extravagant: just coffee with friends in the morning at The Woodlands. In the evening Gaz and Carol are taking me and my sister-in-law (who is staying with me at the moment) out for dinner.
The reason I am celebrating is not just for myself but in thanks to our wonderful NHS without which I would not have lived much past my 16th birthday. At that age I had a disease that still kills people today. However by a stroke of good fortune I was referred to a specialist who (and there were long waiting lists for some operations even then) removed much of one of my diseased lungs.
Since then I've lived with cancer since my prostatectomy in 1997 because some cancer cells had already escaped elsewhere my body. However every time so far that the cancer has started to show signs of asserting itself the medics have found a way to stop it. The last, and currenet, treatment started about 7 or 8 years ago with a drugs trial which proved very successful for me.
I had a heart attack in 2000 and had 6 stents inserted.
I could go on but I think that's quite enough evidence to justify my grateful thanks for the wonderful people who work in our National Health Service.
Thank you one and all.
