I wrote a new blog post just below this about 5 hours ago giving an update on Peter. Since then I returned to the Hospice with James and also Peters guardian. We sat with Peter for a couple of hours... his breathing was getting worse and more laboured. I was meant to return to the city to pick up visitors, but I sensed that he was rapidly getting worse. He was not in pain but struggling to breathe, We decided to stay and see how he got on, and at 5:05pm he gave his last breathe. Thankfully he was in the company of the 3 of us who really cared for him, who have been his family for so long. We were glad he wasn't in pain, and it is good that it all happened so quickly and he didnt suffer for too long. We are very sad to lose him though and in shock that it did happen so fast. We will miss him so much. Right now there is not much more I can say.
Thank you to all those who have prayed and sacrificed financially for him.
Tuesday, 19 July 2011
LAST STOP BEFORE HOME
Hi to everyone, its been long since my last blog, with a lot going on and too much to say just now, but i hope to do a new update in the next week or so which will tell you all about the adventures of the Rhino charge... The fate of Shaun the Sheep... and updates on work life here in Kenya. But for now I wanted to tell you about how Peter is getting on. The 13 year old boy I look after who has terminal cancer.
Peter has slowly been detriorating over the last few months and before I left for quick trip back to the Uk in the middle of June I had been in discussions with the Nairobi Hospice about the need for eventually moving Peter into a Resdidential Nursing Home/Hospice. We had one lined up that looked good, was great value and run by the catholic church. I headed back to UK for some meetings, and made sure that Peter had all his medication and was looked after while I was away. Peter's condition had been getting worse recently to the point where he didnt leave the house much, his lost sight in his right eye, as the tumour is pushing on the eye and almost forcing it out the socket. He has also got multiple tumours on his head, another pushing on the other eye etc.
When I returned from the UK the following day I was called to the house, Peter was having chest pains and wasn't well. We got the doctor out and changed some medications etc, and thankfully he improved. However it was a sign of what was to come and we had a discussion with his guardian and agreed to move him the to residential hospice sooner rather than later. The guardian and I did a trip up the road during the week to check out the place. There is a lovely irish nun called Sister Eileen who runs it, it has 9 beds, is only a year old and is a fantastic facility. Its quiet which is good in some ways, but I was worried Peter would bee lonely.
Anyways we got it organised and last Tuesday I moved him up there. OI was worried he might feel we were abandoning him, but actually he was quite keen to go, he was experiencing pain all the time and I knew he just wanted to be comfortable. We settled him in, but it was hard leaving him... i was close to tears, it was very tough, especially as I knew this would be the last place he stays before he finally passes away. This poor kid has spent his whole life being moved from one place to another, with no parents, and being looked after by so many different adults. This would be his last home, his last bed...
I came back a couple of days later to pick him up and bring him to the doctor in the city and just to take him out for the day. I looked in his wardrobe and his clothes and everything were still in the suitcase... this i how he has come to learn to live... everytthing he has ever known has been in a box or suitcase, he lives out of that... and he would not think to put things on his shelf... everything is neatly packed and kept in the suitcase... it says a lot.
He seemd to be ok in the hospice even though he was a little bored but his bed in comfortable and he has made friends with another patient. Yesterday I planned to come up and visit... and the sister phoned me before hand to say he was very weak that day, not so strong and weas very tired. I arrived to see him asleep in bed... but he sat up when we came, was talking a bit and ate some food... but he seemed to have changed quite a bit... the sister says almost over night there has been a change. We stayed for a short time, I had to get back to the city, but he was so pleased to see us. The sister kept calling me the rest o fthe day giving me updates and this hinted to me that perhaps his detrioration is serious. He got worse again in the evveing, but was at least eating.
This morning I drove up with the doctor from the city, and I found him propped up in his bed, really struggling to breath, barely able to move, his chest going up and down so fast. He looked so weak and it was shocking to see him in this state, he barely had enough energy to keep is one reasonable eye open and to say more than one word at a time. He has so much pain all over. His stomach is huge, the liver is bigger, his whole body is getting distorted. His head is huge and I will include a picture below taken a few weeks ago... imagine its all a lot bigger than that now. This poor kid is going through hell right now. Even the hospice staff are struggling emotionally with all this, its such a brutal way to go, and if hospice staff are sgtruggling, people who deal with canacer patients all the time it shows how tough this is all for peter.
It incredible how he has changed so much in a few days. I tried to get the docs to predict what woudl happen, but I knew I was asking unreasonable questions because no on really knows. But eventually I got it out of them... once there are respiritory problems thats how it starts for a lot of cancer patients to go. It was finally said, that pretty much now he could go at any time.
I can;t believe it, I came back from the Uk expecting it would be a couple of months before dealin with residential care and even longer before the end would come, and now this might all end in a matter of days, or even hours. Hard to know what to do now in the next few days, but I am organising people to visit him and spend as much time there as possible. That last thing I want is for him to pass away and for one of us that are close to him not be around.
Peter has incredible faith in God. While he was still at his guardians house, he barely left the house, but each evening he walked through the streets, stiumbling along, while people would stare at his disfigurement, he would go to an evening prayer service everyday at 5pm. he trusts in God, and I wouldn;t say I know many certainties in life, but for sure I know God has a place marked out for him in heaven... where there will be no more disfigurement, or pain, where he will be whole again.
There are many more things I could write, but thats all I got for now.... I have to rush back to see him this afternoon, before it gets dark later. I would ask you to pray for Peter.... pray that he won;t be afraid in the coming days, pray that he won't be in pain, pray for the nurses and carers around him.... pray that he will have peace in the remaining days. Its not long now before he will be truely home with his Father in heaven.
Peter has slowly been detriorating over the last few months and before I left for quick trip back to the Uk in the middle of June I had been in discussions with the Nairobi Hospice about the need for eventually moving Peter into a Resdidential Nursing Home/Hospice. We had one lined up that looked good, was great value and run by the catholic church. I headed back to UK for some meetings, and made sure that Peter had all his medication and was looked after while I was away. Peter's condition had been getting worse recently to the point where he didnt leave the house much, his lost sight in his right eye, as the tumour is pushing on the eye and almost forcing it out the socket. He has also got multiple tumours on his head, another pushing on the other eye etc.
When I returned from the UK the following day I was called to the house, Peter was having chest pains and wasn't well. We got the doctor out and changed some medications etc, and thankfully he improved. However it was a sign of what was to come and we had a discussion with his guardian and agreed to move him the to residential hospice sooner rather than later. The guardian and I did a trip up the road during the week to check out the place. There is a lovely irish nun called Sister Eileen who runs it, it has 9 beds, is only a year old and is a fantastic facility. Its quiet which is good in some ways, but I was worried Peter would bee lonely.
Anyways we got it organised and last Tuesday I moved him up there. OI was worried he might feel we were abandoning him, but actually he was quite keen to go, he was experiencing pain all the time and I knew he just wanted to be comfortable. We settled him in, but it was hard leaving him... i was close to tears, it was very tough, especially as I knew this would be the last place he stays before he finally passes away. This poor kid has spent his whole life being moved from one place to another, with no parents, and being looked after by so many different adults. This would be his last home, his last bed...
I came back a couple of days later to pick him up and bring him to the doctor in the city and just to take him out for the day. I looked in his wardrobe and his clothes and everything were still in the suitcase... this i how he has come to learn to live... everytthing he has ever known has been in a box or suitcase, he lives out of that... and he would not think to put things on his shelf... everything is neatly packed and kept in the suitcase... it says a lot.
He seemd to be ok in the hospice even though he was a little bored but his bed in comfortable and he has made friends with another patient. Yesterday I planned to come up and visit... and the sister phoned me before hand to say he was very weak that day, not so strong and weas very tired. I arrived to see him asleep in bed... but he sat up when we came, was talking a bit and ate some food... but he seemed to have changed quite a bit... the sister says almost over night there has been a change. We stayed for a short time, I had to get back to the city, but he was so pleased to see us. The sister kept calling me the rest o fthe day giving me updates and this hinted to me that perhaps his detrioration is serious. He got worse again in the evveing, but was at least eating.
This morning I drove up with the doctor from the city, and I found him propped up in his bed, really struggling to breath, barely able to move, his chest going up and down so fast. He looked so weak and it was shocking to see him in this state, he barely had enough energy to keep is one reasonable eye open and to say more than one word at a time. He has so much pain all over. His stomach is huge, the liver is bigger, his whole body is getting distorted. His head is huge and I will include a picture below taken a few weeks ago... imagine its all a lot bigger than that now. This poor kid is going through hell right now. Even the hospice staff are struggling emotionally with all this, its such a brutal way to go, and if hospice staff are sgtruggling, people who deal with canacer patients all the time it shows how tough this is all for peter.
It incredible how he has changed so much in a few days. I tried to get the docs to predict what woudl happen, but I knew I was asking unreasonable questions because no on really knows. But eventually I got it out of them... once there are respiritory problems thats how it starts for a lot of cancer patients to go. It was finally said, that pretty much now he could go at any time.
I can;t believe it, I came back from the Uk expecting it would be a couple of months before dealin with residential care and even longer before the end would come, and now this might all end in a matter of days, or even hours. Hard to know what to do now in the next few days, but I am organising people to visit him and spend as much time there as possible. That last thing I want is for him to pass away and for one of us that are close to him not be around.
Peter has incredible faith in God. While he was still at his guardians house, he barely left the house, but each evening he walked through the streets, stiumbling along, while people would stare at his disfigurement, he would go to an evening prayer service everyday at 5pm. he trusts in God, and I wouldn;t say I know many certainties in life, but for sure I know God has a place marked out for him in heaven... where there will be no more disfigurement, or pain, where he will be whole again.
There are many more things I could write, but thats all I got for now.... I have to rush back to see him this afternoon, before it gets dark later. I would ask you to pray for Peter.... pray that he won;t be afraid in the coming days, pray that he won't be in pain, pray for the nurses and carers around him.... pray that he will have peace in the remaining days. Its not long now before he will be truely home with his Father in heaven.
Wednesday, 18 May 2011
BAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
WHEN IT RAINS.... IT DOESN’T POUR – For a while, all of us in Nairobi were wondering if the rains were not going to come this season, the whole of April passed with hardly a drop, the grass was turning a slightly beige colour and dust was swirling in the air in the form of dust devils. Finally though as May came, so did the rains. Last week it was pretty strong, almost every day. Thankfully the roof of the house is still holding on, but only just. The verendah still seems to leak water in the rain and is generally out of use at the moment and each day its a challenge to keep as much mud off your feet as possible and not drag it into every building and room. When you think about it, in the UK when it rains, the worst you have for walking is on wet pavements and passed puddles, hardly ever is the challenge presented for walking through muddy streets, paths, walk ways etc. On my way to work in the morning the streets are not only busy with cars, but pedestrians walking on the road, the hard tarmac, rather than the swampy mud fields that line the hard surfaced roads. It can be a bit of a game of chicken, or bowling, as you swerve the car passed people, huge puddles which might be secretly hiding a 2 foot pothole which would love to do damage to your car and your spine, and avoiding hitting on coming vehicles. Its not the most fun driving and its hard also to avoid splashing people with dirty brown muddy water. The weird thing last week was that when I got up in the morning it seemed there was not water in the taps, the toilet or the shower. Eventually there would be a trickle out the tap but at this point it was dirty muddy water pouring into the sink. I turned on the water pump for the backup tank and eventually some water would come through the shower, just at the point I had finished bathing in some cold tap water stored in some plastic bottles, at least then I could have a shower to warm up again! This happened over a few days, and I wondered how it could be pouring with rain outside, but not pouring through my water taps, toilet or shower. This is typical Nairobi, we rely on water for electricity, it turns the turbines, we rely on water for the taps etc yet during the rainy season we can get really bad power cuts and shortages of water in the pipes. So sometimes when it rains, it really doesn’t pour.
BAAAAAAAAA – At homegroup on Thursday night the subject came up about Mark’s birthday dinner on Sunday. What present should be bought???? Now Mark is a Welshman and of course the obligatory joke about the perfect present being a sheep for a Welshman would be very funny came up. Questions arose about where could you buy a toy sheep as a joke, or a stuffed teddy like sheep. Eventually as we were getting nowhere Ben piped up half joking, half serious, ‘what if we bought him a real sheep?’. Some in the group couldn’t believe he was serious... I loved the idea, how funny would that be, it would be the most legendary present ever, it would go down in history, and here in Kenya going out to buy a sheep would actually be possible. We discussed it some more and the ideas kept growing. Where could we get it? What would we call it? How could we transport it? Could he keep it at his house? What would his wife think? A plan started to come together. Friday a few of us set to the task of finding a sheep. I spoke to people at work and our accountant told me he had a friend from his church who could help, so Friday morning we set off to Kiserian, into the sheep market and began the process of selecting a sheep. There wasn’t much choice but in the end I picked up a black headed sheep. They tied him up and placed him in the back of my car. James sat in the back keeping an eye on him and we headed back to my house. Now the tricky thing at my house was the dogs... not sure if they would be friends with the sheep or not. We unloaded him, the dogs went beserk and so we had to keep them away. We tied him to a post in the garden, on a very long piece of rope and he set about at mowing my lawn. It was probably the nicest, greenest grass he ever tasted. The staff at the house were initially thinking I had brought a sheep home to be slaughtered and shared around, but I had to disappoint them and said it was for a friend’s birthday. The funny thing is that here buying someone a live sheep is not that strange, certainly in Kenyan culture, so although the expats would think we were crazy, the Kenyans thought it made sense! He munched on the grass Friday and Saturday and slept in the store room over night to avoid being attacked by the dogs. Charles washed him and made him really clean and ready to be presented at lunch on Sunday. Now in the initial discussions we decided we would call the sheep ‘Dolly’ after the infamous cloned sheep from Edinburgh. However there was a slight snag... i forgot to check the sex before we bought it and of course I ended up buying a male sheep. Never mind we stuck with Dolly and my friend Anke spent 5 hours on the Saturday embroidering a name badge for the sheep. Sunday came, and Ben picked up Dolly from my house in his Landrover, as I was at church early to lead worship. We had arranged with the security guard at the church which is held at a private school, to tie the sheep up and look after it during church. So we did church and then a group of us waited for Mark and Sue to head to the restaurant for lunch so we would arrive after them. We loaded Dolly up again in the car and headed to the restaurant which was out of town and near the safari park. As we arrived, we realised to get into the restaurant we would have to cross a rope bridge, just like the one from Indiana Jones, and they would see us crossing the bridge and also perhaps Dolly might not want to cross the bridge in the first place. So as Ben went to bring Mark to the car park with all the other birthday lunch guests, the girls tied ribbons and bows onto Dolly, as I kept him calm. It seemed I was dubbed the Sheep Whisperer as I seemed to have the gift of keeping him calm. I stood behind the Landrover with Dolly and everyone came round. Mark’s face was priceless! Utter shock! Not in a million years did he ever expect such a present. The joke went down very well and everyone saw how funny it was. Both Mark and Su loved it. We tied him to the Landrover to munch on the grass in the car park and the Masaai security guard promised to keep an eye on Dolly. During lunch we discussed what they might do with Dolly, mark was thinking BBQ, but Su was desperate to keep Dolly in the garden. The nicest thing was that Mark said it was a great present and said he would never forget it, he commented that he knows when he is an old man, he will be walking down the street one day and have a little chuckle to himself that one day for his birthday in Africa, a bunch of crazy guys bought him a sheep! Currently Dolly.. whose name is slowly changing to Shaun, is residing in mark’s garden, enjoying the grass and the flowers! We will wait to see if Shaun is kept, sold or eaten... watch this space!
WHEN THE TANKS RAN DRY – Over the Royal wedding weekend, when I took the Friday off and the Monday here was a bank holiday I knew I should have filled up my tank with Petrol! Tuesday came, back at work again but in the evening I was invited to someones house for a good old catch up and some delicious haggis flown in from Scotland. I left the office a little early to head across town and decided to pick up some fuel on the way, as the needle was hitting the red section of the dial and the fuel warning light was flickering on. The first petrol station I stopped at... ‘no fuel’.... no problem, its a common tale here, quite often a station runs out and you just head to the next, so thats exactly what I did, reached the next one... ‘no fuel’... ‘oh ok, no problem’... moving on to the next and of course once again .... ‘ no fuel’.... ‘oooohhhhhhh’. By this point I had crossed Waiyaki Way and was getting closer to my destination but the needle was plummeting down the fuel gauge highway towards oblivion. As I approached each station I realised something was very, very wrong! Each one had cars pulling in and pulling straight out, there was no fuel. I called Juliet to say I was trying to find fuel so would be late, she then told me the attendants at a petrol station had told her there is no fuel in Nairobi!!!! WWWWHHHHAAATTTT!!! No fuel at all? That can’t be true. Thinking I was being smart I headed back to the highway and decided to head up the Naivasha Road, as I knew there would be some petrol stations there and perhaps being on the highway, slightly out of town they would have some left. I was wrong again! I was reaching the point of no return. Do I just head towards the haggis, but run the risk of not getting home later, do I just head home and abandon the haggis or do I try and find a petrol station and then do whatever I want.... I of course took the stupid option of heading further out of town in search of petrol and hoping to be the only guy left in Nairobi with a full tank and a smug grin on my face. As I got further out of town towards Kikuyu town I realised I had made a mistake and I needed to head back.. but being on the highway I couldn’t turn round, with the crash barrier dividing the dual carriageway. I was driving further and further away from home with an ever decreasing fuel tank, panic was beginning to set in. Eventually I reached the Kikuyu turn off, which would give me the option of turning round on the highway and going back the way I came, OR heading into Kikuyu town and taking the back routes home but possibly trying just 1 more petrol station that was a bit more remote. So of course I took the risky option of taking the back routes and of course the petrol station was empty too. Now I had a real dilemma, the fuel gauge was only on the last fractions of red on the dial and I was about 30 mins from home. If I took the left road it would be slightly quicker, BUT I would be going through Kawangware slum and I could hit bad traffic and if I ran out of petrol there it would be dangerous, it was getting closer to 6 o’clock and getting dark, that would be dangerous. If I took the righthand road I would be taking longer to get back but going past Karen and work, so I would know more people in the area if I got stuck. This time I took the safer option and went right. Of course I had made another huge mistake! I cruised along slowly trying to be as fuel efficient as possible and then I came closer to the main roundabout at Karen.... WWWWOOOOOOAAAAAHHHHH!! Probably the worst traffic jam I have ever seen in Kenya! The whole roundabout was blocked, no traffic moving anywhere! We were on a slight hill coming down to the roundabout and we were not really moving. I decided to switch off the engine to save fuel.... yes yes I know you use a lot of fuel to start the car etc, but I was desperate and wasn’t sure how long we would be sitting so thought it would be best. The traffic moved a little so my plan... take the hand brake off and roll down the hill slowly... another bad idea. The foot brake and steering don’t really work when the engine is not on and without wanting to break my handbrake I was in another dilemma. I sat there and watched as I got closer to the roundabout that perhaps for us coming from our direction turning back into town would not be so bad, as most people were leaving town. However there were cars, buses, lorries everywhere and what would happen if I got stuck in all that and then ran out of fuel? I had another option I could turn round and take a back road to avoid the roundabout but that would require doing about 3 miles through country roads which would be quiet. I decided to keep going, with me checking my petrol gauge now every 10 seconds (and I do not exaggerate), the needle was barely touching red and I was getting closer to the jam from hell. We got to the roundabout, I put the car in 4 wheel drive and a group of us tried to skirt round the edge to take our simple turn left. People were everywhere, mud was everywhere from the rain, cars were getting stuck, my wheels were slipping and I would have to rev hard sometimes to overcome bumps and holes, knowing that each time I was sucking the fumes out of the petrol tank. The car was surrounded by people and cars but we kept edging further. I could see part of the problem, the main road from town had cars everywhere, literally 6 cars wide, covering every part which made it almost impossible for us coming the other way, but this was happening from each side of the roundabout so thats why it blocked. I spotted on the other side of the road the Shell petrol station, it had just received a tanker full of fuel.. I couldn’t believe it.... so close yet there was a 6 car wide jam between me and the petrol station, there would be no way of getting there. I pressed onwards hoping that with some miracle I could make it home. I was perspiring, heart beating, almost shaking with the stress, I had to get through the Ngong forest without breaking down, that would be very dangerous, it was getting very dark now, as we got closer to town the traffic got worse and we hit another traffic jam. What could I do now??? I was desperate and in a very risky position. I realised I would be passing work and finally resigned that I would park the car there and get a taxi home. At least the car would be safe and I would be safe. I pulled back into work, over 2 hours later having left work, with faces full of surprise greeting me at the gate. I called a taxi and after it eventually came I set off on the journey back to my house which normally takes 15 minutes (20 max). An hour and half later I actually made it home!!! Having left work at 4pm I arrived back at my house at 7:45pm! Exhausted, stressed, relieved. We had a few days without fuel in Kenya, I used taxis for 2 days. There seemed to be some arguments between the ONLY supplier who sells to the marketers such as Shell and Total and with the government. Speculation has arisen that the government was blackmailing the petrol guys for bribes to raise money for their 2012 election campaigns... it seems a very real possibility. Now the fuel guys are taking their own back on the government by refusing to tender for the latest fuel tankers docking at Mombasa. The price of fuel has risen and is expected to run out again in a week or so. I’ve stock piled some fuel at my house this time, so I don’t hit the same problem again. It could all get resolved and we don’t run out, but if it does this time I will keep rolling and I will not miss the chance for some haggis again!
A GOOD DAY TO BE BRITISH – Although that certain Friday was no public holiday here in Kenya, I made the personal decision that being a subject of the Queen it would only be responsible and my duty to take the day off and celebrate in her grandsons wedding. It seems I was not the only person to think the same...South Africans, Germans, Kenyans, Britons, infact almost everyone! I did need to go into work in the morning to deal with a few issues, Peter had not been well overnight and so I wanted to get him checked out at the docs. As I passed the childrens home I walked into the hall and found 4 teenage boys glued to the TV screen watching the pre-match... I mean pre-wedding build up. I asked if they knew what was happening... they answered ‘yes’. I asked if they knew who was getting married...’yes of course’... oh ok, so it seemed the kids at the home wanted to watch it as well. After the visit to the docs, we passed by a supermarket and as we walked round, EVERY TV set had the wedding on, even the security camera TV’s and everyone seemed to be keeping an eye on it. Eventually I dropped the boys off back home. I passed my house to see Will’s and Harry get into their car to head to church and I figured if traffic was ok I would make it to David and Juliets in time for the actual wedding... the pressure was on, could I make it to my venue before the bride! I whizzed through town, traffic not busy and arrived just in time to see Kate jump into her car and head to the church. Feet up, lunch ready, we sat and ate a Salmon lunch whilst watching the wedding of the millennium! The chat for the next few days was wedding, wedding, wedding, even with my friends from other countries.. EVERYONE loved it, the Kenyan press was full of it, and for us Brits there was a real sense of patriotism and pride. This is what we do well... pomp and circumstance... everyone agrees, no one does it better! It was the Disney fairytale wedding, and as they talked about 2 billion viewers, being here in Kenya you could see how that was possible. If it was as big as this here then imagine all the other commonwealth countries and beyond how big it would be globally! An awesome day and a really positive vibe. Colonialism may have brought good and bad to Kenya but there is still that sense of connection with Britain that remains. A very good day to be British!
PRESSURE – So the last few weeks things have been developing with Peter, the 13 year old boy I look after who has cancer. Each week on Thursdays we go to the Nairobi Hospice. He has a neuroblastoma tumour on his forehead which is incurable. Each week his tumour grows bigger and bigger, its almost at the size that even hats are struggling to cover it. The tumour is starting to move down by the side of his right eye and causing it to close. His eyesight is now beginning to fail in that side as the tumour causes pressure. He tends to walk around with the hat covering half his face and he keeps his head bowed. I was heartbroken the other week as we sat with doctor and did some counselling. He confessed that the kids who live around his guardians place, where he stays, call him names and laugh at him, they refer to him as ‘Mango Head’, as he told this, tears rolled down his cheeks. The cruelty of children can be unbelievable sometimes, but I know that they are young and don’t understand. What was positive was that he says the kids at Cheryl’s treat him well, don’t tease him and are supportive. As the tumour grows it is increasing pressure on his brain. We went for a CT scan last week and I could finally see the extent the tumour is growing on the inside of his skull and putting huge pressure on his brain. An Oncologist saw the scan and said he was surprised Peter was still able to walk, stating that the pressure on his brain must be immense and that it could start causing paralysis and parts of his body not to function. In a way it seems to be a miracle he is still able to do so much, and for that we are grateful. The hospice was keen for Peter to come back and stay at Cheryl’s because he could get 24 hour care there, a proper bed and be with his friends. They sent a request to the children’s department and we requested permission to bring him back to cheryl’s. The sad thing is the Childrens Department considered the case and then said it was too dangerous to keep him at Cheryl’s saying if he died there we would come under big scrutiny and examination, the police would be involved etc. So they would not allow him to come back and have now said he is not even allowed to be there during the day. It is UNBELIEVABLE!!! The chances of him dying at Cheryl’s are slim, and even if he did, there is plenty of evidence from the doctors etc of why he would pass away. It seems no-one is thinking of what’s in the best interests of the child, just more about covering people’s backs. It is devastating news and I am not sure what to do now. I do know though that in time we will have to consider nursing home care for Peter, especially in his last days, or if he ends up paralysed. I have already been given information on some places and will hopefully check them out soon. We face tough times ahead, and the pressure is increasing on Peter physically and psychologically. Another tumour is now starting to grow on the other side of his head and I can see Peter starting to wonder what’s happening and losing strength and hope. I’m trying to remain strong for Peter and we continue to work hard for him and trying to provide the care he needs.
ANYONE FOR TENNIS? – In an aid to try and get fit and lose a bit of weight I have tried to do some exercise and for me the best way to exercise is to do it when you don’t really even notice you’re doing it, for example playing games. In Edinburgh for me this was always basketball, a game I love to play. The real desire for going was to have fun with some mates and play games, but the great side affect was it helped you to get fit. Unfortunately I can’t seem to find many basketball players here, although there are courts everywhere, so I began to think, hang on, we are in a hot sunny country (well sunny sometimes) and so why not take the advantage and play some tennis. I suck at tennis, those kids who I used to teach at Rydings School in Zimbabwe will testify to this, being beaten by a 12 year old does hurt your feelings a little. Anyways I suggested it to David and Juliet and they too were keen, and also confessed to sucking at tennis too. Perfect! So for the last few weeks we’ve been playing tennis on Wednesday nights at the Muthaiga Club. Its been great fun, and we all seem to be on the same level in terms of ability. We have been improving, so hopefully that will continue. We will wait to see if it is affecting my weight or fitness levels, but at least we are having fun!
BOOKS GALORE! – So I can finally announce that the library is complete. For months we have been working on this and trying to get it finished. There have been numerous problems on the way but we have overcome them. During the Easter holidays I worked with a small group of kids from the high school age down to primary and we set the whole library up. We labelled the books, put them into age groups, reference sections etc and recorded each book on to the computer. For the kids who helped they were very excited to get chance to use a computer and they did a great job of recording the books into an excel document. We worked very hard for a few days and it was finally done. There are many booked (although we can always use more) which the kids can now access for pleasure or for school work. We have a nice carpet down in the room, with a sofa and rug, its the nicest room in the whole of Cheryls and hopefully it will inspire the kids to read more!
BAAAAAAAAA – At homegroup on Thursday night the subject came up about Mark’s birthday dinner on Sunday. What present should be bought???? Now Mark is a Welshman and of course the obligatory joke about the perfect present being a sheep for a Welshman would be very funny came up. Questions arose about where could you buy a toy sheep as a joke, or a stuffed teddy like sheep. Eventually as we were getting nowhere Ben piped up half joking, half serious, ‘what if we bought him a real sheep?’. Some in the group couldn’t believe he was serious... I loved the idea, how funny would that be, it would be the most legendary present ever, it would go down in history, and here in Kenya going out to buy a sheep would actually be possible. We discussed it some more and the ideas kept growing. Where could we get it? What would we call it? How could we transport it? Could he keep it at his house? What would his wife think? A plan started to come together. Friday a few of us set to the task of finding a sheep. I spoke to people at work and our accountant told me he had a friend from his church who could help, so Friday morning we set off to Kiserian, into the sheep market and began the process of selecting a sheep. There wasn’t much choice but in the end I picked up a black headed sheep. They tied him up and placed him in the back of my car. James sat in the back keeping an eye on him and we headed back to my house. Now the tricky thing at my house was the dogs... not sure if they would be friends with the sheep or not. We unloaded him, the dogs went beserk and so we had to keep them away. We tied him to a post in the garden, on a very long piece of rope and he set about at mowing my lawn. It was probably the nicest, greenest grass he ever tasted. The staff at the house were initially thinking I had brought a sheep home to be slaughtered and shared around, but I had to disappoint them and said it was for a friend’s birthday. The funny thing is that here buying someone a live sheep is not that strange, certainly in Kenyan culture, so although the expats would think we were crazy, the Kenyans thought it made sense! He munched on the grass Friday and Saturday and slept in the store room over night to avoid being attacked by the dogs. Charles washed him and made him really clean and ready to be presented at lunch on Sunday. Now in the initial discussions we decided we would call the sheep ‘Dolly’ after the infamous cloned sheep from Edinburgh. However there was a slight snag... i forgot to check the sex before we bought it and of course I ended up buying a male sheep. Never mind we stuck with Dolly and my friend Anke spent 5 hours on the Saturday embroidering a name badge for the sheep. Sunday came, and Ben picked up Dolly from my house in his Landrover, as I was at church early to lead worship. We had arranged with the security guard at the church which is held at a private school, to tie the sheep up and look after it during church. So we did church and then a group of us waited for Mark and Sue to head to the restaurant for lunch so we would arrive after them. We loaded Dolly up again in the car and headed to the restaurant which was out of town and near the safari park. As we arrived, we realised to get into the restaurant we would have to cross a rope bridge, just like the one from Indiana Jones, and they would see us crossing the bridge and also perhaps Dolly might not want to cross the bridge in the first place. So as Ben went to bring Mark to the car park with all the other birthday lunch guests, the girls tied ribbons and bows onto Dolly, as I kept him calm. It seemed I was dubbed the Sheep Whisperer as I seemed to have the gift of keeping him calm. I stood behind the Landrover with Dolly and everyone came round. Mark’s face was priceless! Utter shock! Not in a million years did he ever expect such a present. The joke went down very well and everyone saw how funny it was. Both Mark and Su loved it. We tied him to the Landrover to munch on the grass in the car park and the Masaai security guard promised to keep an eye on Dolly. During lunch we discussed what they might do with Dolly, mark was thinking BBQ, but Su was desperate to keep Dolly in the garden. The nicest thing was that Mark said it was a great present and said he would never forget it, he commented that he knows when he is an old man, he will be walking down the street one day and have a little chuckle to himself that one day for his birthday in Africa, a bunch of crazy guys bought him a sheep! Currently Dolly.. whose name is slowly changing to Shaun, is residing in mark’s garden, enjoying the grass and the flowers! We will wait to see if Shaun is kept, sold or eaten... watch this space!
WHEN THE TANKS RAN DRY – Over the Royal wedding weekend, when I took the Friday off and the Monday here was a bank holiday I knew I should have filled up my tank with Petrol! Tuesday came, back at work again but in the evening I was invited to someones house for a good old catch up and some delicious haggis flown in from Scotland. I left the office a little early to head across town and decided to pick up some fuel on the way, as the needle was hitting the red section of the dial and the fuel warning light was flickering on. The first petrol station I stopped at... ‘no fuel’.... no problem, its a common tale here, quite often a station runs out and you just head to the next, so thats exactly what I did, reached the next one... ‘no fuel’... ‘oh ok, no problem’... moving on to the next and of course once again .... ‘ no fuel’.... ‘oooohhhhhhh’. By this point I had crossed Waiyaki Way and was getting closer to my destination but the needle was plummeting down the fuel gauge highway towards oblivion. As I approached each station I realised something was very, very wrong! Each one had cars pulling in and pulling straight out, there was no fuel. I called Juliet to say I was trying to find fuel so would be late, she then told me the attendants at a petrol station had told her there is no fuel in Nairobi!!!! WWWWHHHHAAATTTT!!! No fuel at all? That can’t be true. Thinking I was being smart I headed back to the highway and decided to head up the Naivasha Road, as I knew there would be some petrol stations there and perhaps being on the highway, slightly out of town they would have some left. I was wrong again! I was reaching the point of no return. Do I just head towards the haggis, but run the risk of not getting home later, do I just head home and abandon the haggis or do I try and find a petrol station and then do whatever I want.... I of course took the stupid option of heading further out of town in search of petrol and hoping to be the only guy left in Nairobi with a full tank and a smug grin on my face. As I got further out of town towards Kikuyu town I realised I had made a mistake and I needed to head back.. but being on the highway I couldn’t turn round, with the crash barrier dividing the dual carriageway. I was driving further and further away from home with an ever decreasing fuel tank, panic was beginning to set in. Eventually I reached the Kikuyu turn off, which would give me the option of turning round on the highway and going back the way I came, OR heading into Kikuyu town and taking the back routes home but possibly trying just 1 more petrol station that was a bit more remote. So of course I took the risky option of taking the back routes and of course the petrol station was empty too. Now I had a real dilemma, the fuel gauge was only on the last fractions of red on the dial and I was about 30 mins from home. If I took the left road it would be slightly quicker, BUT I would be going through Kawangware slum and I could hit bad traffic and if I ran out of petrol there it would be dangerous, it was getting closer to 6 o’clock and getting dark, that would be dangerous. If I took the righthand road I would be taking longer to get back but going past Karen and work, so I would know more people in the area if I got stuck. This time I took the safer option and went right. Of course I had made another huge mistake! I cruised along slowly trying to be as fuel efficient as possible and then I came closer to the main roundabout at Karen.... WWWWOOOOOOAAAAAHHHHH!! Probably the worst traffic jam I have ever seen in Kenya! The whole roundabout was blocked, no traffic moving anywhere! We were on a slight hill coming down to the roundabout and we were not really moving. I decided to switch off the engine to save fuel.... yes yes I know you use a lot of fuel to start the car etc, but I was desperate and wasn’t sure how long we would be sitting so thought it would be best. The traffic moved a little so my plan... take the hand brake off and roll down the hill slowly... another bad idea. The foot brake and steering don’t really work when the engine is not on and without wanting to break my handbrake I was in another dilemma. I sat there and watched as I got closer to the roundabout that perhaps for us coming from our direction turning back into town would not be so bad, as most people were leaving town. However there were cars, buses, lorries everywhere and what would happen if I got stuck in all that and then ran out of fuel? I had another option I could turn round and take a back road to avoid the roundabout but that would require doing about 3 miles through country roads which would be quiet. I decided to keep going, with me checking my petrol gauge now every 10 seconds (and I do not exaggerate), the needle was barely touching red and I was getting closer to the jam from hell. We got to the roundabout, I put the car in 4 wheel drive and a group of us tried to skirt round the edge to take our simple turn left. People were everywhere, mud was everywhere from the rain, cars were getting stuck, my wheels were slipping and I would have to rev hard sometimes to overcome bumps and holes, knowing that each time I was sucking the fumes out of the petrol tank. The car was surrounded by people and cars but we kept edging further. I could see part of the problem, the main road from town had cars everywhere, literally 6 cars wide, covering every part which made it almost impossible for us coming the other way, but this was happening from each side of the roundabout so thats why it blocked. I spotted on the other side of the road the Shell petrol station, it had just received a tanker full of fuel.. I couldn’t believe it.... so close yet there was a 6 car wide jam between me and the petrol station, there would be no way of getting there. I pressed onwards hoping that with some miracle I could make it home. I was perspiring, heart beating, almost shaking with the stress, I had to get through the Ngong forest without breaking down, that would be very dangerous, it was getting very dark now, as we got closer to town the traffic got worse and we hit another traffic jam. What could I do now??? I was desperate and in a very risky position. I realised I would be passing work and finally resigned that I would park the car there and get a taxi home. At least the car would be safe and I would be safe. I pulled back into work, over 2 hours later having left work, with faces full of surprise greeting me at the gate. I called a taxi and after it eventually came I set off on the journey back to my house which normally takes 15 minutes (20 max). An hour and half later I actually made it home!!! Having left work at 4pm I arrived back at my house at 7:45pm! Exhausted, stressed, relieved. We had a few days without fuel in Kenya, I used taxis for 2 days. There seemed to be some arguments between the ONLY supplier who sells to the marketers such as Shell and Total and with the government. Speculation has arisen that the government was blackmailing the petrol guys for bribes to raise money for their 2012 election campaigns... it seems a very real possibility. Now the fuel guys are taking their own back on the government by refusing to tender for the latest fuel tankers docking at Mombasa. The price of fuel has risen and is expected to run out again in a week or so. I’ve stock piled some fuel at my house this time, so I don’t hit the same problem again. It could all get resolved and we don’t run out, but if it does this time I will keep rolling and I will not miss the chance for some haggis again!
A GOOD DAY TO BE BRITISH – Although that certain Friday was no public holiday here in Kenya, I made the personal decision that being a subject of the Queen it would only be responsible and my duty to take the day off and celebrate in her grandsons wedding. It seems I was not the only person to think the same...South Africans, Germans, Kenyans, Britons, infact almost everyone! I did need to go into work in the morning to deal with a few issues, Peter had not been well overnight and so I wanted to get him checked out at the docs. As I passed the childrens home I walked into the hall and found 4 teenage boys glued to the TV screen watching the pre-match... I mean pre-wedding build up. I asked if they knew what was happening... they answered ‘yes’. I asked if they knew who was getting married...’yes of course’... oh ok, so it seemed the kids at the home wanted to watch it as well. After the visit to the docs, we passed by a supermarket and as we walked round, EVERY TV set had the wedding on, even the security camera TV’s and everyone seemed to be keeping an eye on it. Eventually I dropped the boys off back home. I passed my house to see Will’s and Harry get into their car to head to church and I figured if traffic was ok I would make it to David and Juliets in time for the actual wedding... the pressure was on, could I make it to my venue before the bride! I whizzed through town, traffic not busy and arrived just in time to see Kate jump into her car and head to the church. Feet up, lunch ready, we sat and ate a Salmon lunch whilst watching the wedding of the millennium! The chat for the next few days was wedding, wedding, wedding, even with my friends from other countries.. EVERYONE loved it, the Kenyan press was full of it, and for us Brits there was a real sense of patriotism and pride. This is what we do well... pomp and circumstance... everyone agrees, no one does it better! It was the Disney fairytale wedding, and as they talked about 2 billion viewers, being here in Kenya you could see how that was possible. If it was as big as this here then imagine all the other commonwealth countries and beyond how big it would be globally! An awesome day and a really positive vibe. Colonialism may have brought good and bad to Kenya but there is still that sense of connection with Britain that remains. A very good day to be British!
PRESSURE – So the last few weeks things have been developing with Peter, the 13 year old boy I look after who has cancer. Each week on Thursdays we go to the Nairobi Hospice. He has a neuroblastoma tumour on his forehead which is incurable. Each week his tumour grows bigger and bigger, its almost at the size that even hats are struggling to cover it. The tumour is starting to move down by the side of his right eye and causing it to close. His eyesight is now beginning to fail in that side as the tumour causes pressure. He tends to walk around with the hat covering half his face and he keeps his head bowed. I was heartbroken the other week as we sat with doctor and did some counselling. He confessed that the kids who live around his guardians place, where he stays, call him names and laugh at him, they refer to him as ‘Mango Head’, as he told this, tears rolled down his cheeks. The cruelty of children can be unbelievable sometimes, but I know that they are young and don’t understand. What was positive was that he says the kids at Cheryl’s treat him well, don’t tease him and are supportive. As the tumour grows it is increasing pressure on his brain. We went for a CT scan last week and I could finally see the extent the tumour is growing on the inside of his skull and putting huge pressure on his brain. An Oncologist saw the scan and said he was surprised Peter was still able to walk, stating that the pressure on his brain must be immense and that it could start causing paralysis and parts of his body not to function. In a way it seems to be a miracle he is still able to do so much, and for that we are grateful. The hospice was keen for Peter to come back and stay at Cheryl’s because he could get 24 hour care there, a proper bed and be with his friends. They sent a request to the children’s department and we requested permission to bring him back to cheryl’s. The sad thing is the Childrens Department considered the case and then said it was too dangerous to keep him at Cheryl’s saying if he died there we would come under big scrutiny and examination, the police would be involved etc. So they would not allow him to come back and have now said he is not even allowed to be there during the day. It is UNBELIEVABLE!!! The chances of him dying at Cheryl’s are slim, and even if he did, there is plenty of evidence from the doctors etc of why he would pass away. It seems no-one is thinking of what’s in the best interests of the child, just more about covering people’s backs. It is devastating news and I am not sure what to do now. I do know though that in time we will have to consider nursing home care for Peter, especially in his last days, or if he ends up paralysed. I have already been given information on some places and will hopefully check them out soon. We face tough times ahead, and the pressure is increasing on Peter physically and psychologically. Another tumour is now starting to grow on the other side of his head and I can see Peter starting to wonder what’s happening and losing strength and hope. I’m trying to remain strong for Peter and we continue to work hard for him and trying to provide the care he needs.
ANYONE FOR TENNIS? – In an aid to try and get fit and lose a bit of weight I have tried to do some exercise and for me the best way to exercise is to do it when you don’t really even notice you’re doing it, for example playing games. In Edinburgh for me this was always basketball, a game I love to play. The real desire for going was to have fun with some mates and play games, but the great side affect was it helped you to get fit. Unfortunately I can’t seem to find many basketball players here, although there are courts everywhere, so I began to think, hang on, we are in a hot sunny country (well sunny sometimes) and so why not take the advantage and play some tennis. I suck at tennis, those kids who I used to teach at Rydings School in Zimbabwe will testify to this, being beaten by a 12 year old does hurt your feelings a little. Anyways I suggested it to David and Juliet and they too were keen, and also confessed to sucking at tennis too. Perfect! So for the last few weeks we’ve been playing tennis on Wednesday nights at the Muthaiga Club. Its been great fun, and we all seem to be on the same level in terms of ability. We have been improving, so hopefully that will continue. We will wait to see if it is affecting my weight or fitness levels, but at least we are having fun!
BOOKS GALORE! – So I can finally announce that the library is complete. For months we have been working on this and trying to get it finished. There have been numerous problems on the way but we have overcome them. During the Easter holidays I worked with a small group of kids from the high school age down to primary and we set the whole library up. We labelled the books, put them into age groups, reference sections etc and recorded each book on to the computer. For the kids who helped they were very excited to get chance to use a computer and they did a great job of recording the books into an excel document. We worked very hard for a few days and it was finally done. There are many booked (although we can always use more) which the kids can now access for pleasure or for school work. We have a nice carpet down in the room, with a sofa and rug, its the nicest room in the whole of Cheryls and hopefully it will inspire the kids to read more!
Tuesday, 12 April 2011
COAST.... photos below
GOING COASTAL... – 4:50am the alarm tune starts playing away, my eyes creep open to see the darkness still blacking out the curtains and window frames, turning on the bed side light my eyes scrunch up as though someone is trying to gouge them with their fingers and I need to protect them. It’s time to get up, check the boys are awake, quick shower and then hit the road. I open the bedroom door to walk to the bathroom, via the spare room, knocking gently asking out loud ‘are you awake?’. I open the door to see the light is already on and two smartly dressed boys sitting on their made beds, suitcases nearby ready to leave. A little surprised I congratulate them on their readiness and still eye scrunching I head for a shower to wake me up. James who is helping me on this expedition woke at 4:30am and decided to get the other boys ready. Charles the gardener is busy in the kitchen making hot chai for the boys. I throw on my clothes, gather my bags and head for the kitchen and car to start packing. Outside is an eerie silence not normally associated with the Nairobi city life, it is still early enough that most are in bed, except for the few cars wishing to avoid rush hour traffic and heading to work early. Everyone climbs in, the car is packed, the boys are excited, after a quick prayer for a safe journey we exit the gate, waving goodbye to the house staff and start meandering through the empty city streets. It is not long before we are out on the Mombasa highway and heading south. We are on the Athi Plains just as the sun starts to rise, this is record timing, the journey has now fully begun... 600kms to Watamu on the coast of Kenya. THE REASON WHY? – So what was this trip all about? Well Peter who is now 13 years old has been battling with cancer for almost 18 months now. He has a neuroblastoma on his forehead. Chemo was attempted for 12 months at one of Kenya’s top hospitals, but as the course came to an end, the aggressive tumour came straight back. This left us with the agonising decision of what to do next. In the end, following doctors advice and looking at predicted outcomes it was decided Peter had had enough treatment and discomfort of chemo. It was now time to leave him in God’s hands, barring a miracle Peter will not make it, probably before the end of the year, but timing no one really knows. It was now time to move from investing in Peter’s treatment to investing in Peter’s life and the time he has left. After a quick rallying cry to many supporters money was raised to take Peter on a trip of a lifetime, a week on the Kenyan coast, something that most Kenyans never get to experience in their lifetimes, but what would be considered a middle class holiday for the average westerner. So the road trip party was going to include: Peter, one of his best friends Erico and James who has finished high school and awaiting university who cares for Peter and looks after him, plus myself obviously, the chauffeur, holiday planner, first aider and parental figure. This trip was all about spoiling Peter. WATAM’’S – The resort which gave us a special discount for our trip and were so amazing helping us in making this trip possible was Turtle Bay Beach Club, which is in Watamu, soon to be nicknamed ‘Watam’s’ by the boys. Watam’s is nearly 2 hours drive north of Mombasa on the coastal road. With numerous beach resorts along the coast line Watamu is one of the slightly quieter ones but one of the most glorious beaches. Turtle Bay Beach Club although providing your standard resort type stuff with all inclusiveness somehow manages to retain a family run feel. This place was chosen because it is great for families and being all inclusive meant it would be easy for the boys. So for 6 days the boys where on the coast and it was an interesting time... EYES WIDE OPEN – Walking down the steps towards the lobby, luggage in tow were 3 boys with eyes wide open, gasps of breath, followed by little giggles. The lobby was huge, cold towels brought out to freshen the faces and along with cold juice, it was time to feel like Kings. After dumping the bags in the rooms, with the now constant giggling and shocks of awe we headed down to the vast pool and there at the edge was the white sands of Turtle Bay and the big blue wide expanse of the ocean. Shock and awe was finally defined by the 3 boys. I headed with Peter down to the sea, the other 2 standing slightly back, afraid of the vastness and size of the ocean, seeing waves crashing into the sands for the first time and being intimidated by its power. Peter though, unafraid and craving adventure walked with me down to the edge, barefooted and ready to plant his feet in the ocean for the first time. Although Peter grew up next to lake Victoria, a rather sizable lake connecting the countries of Eastern Africa, the ocean was a whole new ball game, this was big, I mean really big. He slowly placed his feet in the zone where the waves would gently lap up onto the white sands, the luke warm feeling of water rushing in between his toes and over his small feet, this was the Indian ocean, Peter’s first ever ocean. James and Erico stood back and watched in amazement. For firsts, they don’t come much better than this. All I could think of, after all the rubbish that I’ve faced in recent months, was ‘how amazing is this’, it felt like a huge honour and privilege to be there, to witness such joy and wide eyeness. How many oceans have I seen, how many seas have I swam in, from a young age, to me this is just another ocean full of fun and excitement, to the 3 boys this was the edge of the earth, the furthest perhaps to travel in 1 lifetime, miles and miles away from the Nairobi frenzy. It was just time to stand in awe and wonder, who could make something so magical, so powerful and so utterly beautiful as the ocean. BEACH LIFE – There were only a few beach beds by the pool but many on the beach itself right at the hotel, next to thatched rooves and shades. The first morning we selected our patch (which would end up being ours for the week), my plan to be in sight of the pool and the ocean to keep close eye on the boys, with a metal table allowing me to padlock my bag to it and keep the valuables safe. Some beach life educating needed to be undertaken, but was soon abandoned. The boys could not understand... why would you sit all day on a beach bed sleeping when there was a giant pool with crystal clear water and a scary ocean just begging to be explored. So we hit the pool, knowing that I had about 2 and half swimmers in tow. James took to the pool water with ease, Peter strode in with confidence and demonstrated his swimming abilities, basically front crawl, head in the water, powering as hard as he could until he needed to breath again which would required stopping, standing up, wiping his eyes and taking in huge gulps of oxygen, this obviously limited the distance he could swim at any one time. Erico, pretending to be able to swim seemed to wade through the water never really daring to lift his feet off the floor. The swimming pool was huge which about two thirds set a low depth and then a slightly separate deeper end. It soon registered that swimming lessons for Erico would be required. Having been 15 years since getting into the baby pool at Rydings School in Zimbabwe and teaching Gabriel to swim for the house competition I was a little concerned I had forgotten how to teach swimming (although even 15 years ago it had all been made up at the time as well, although Gabriel did eventually swim an entire length of the senior pool with a paddle board, what I genuinely feel as one of my greatest achievements and proudest moments). After about 20 minutes of lessons Erico was free to do his thing and well for the next 5 days he practically lived in the pool, when he was not in the pool he was at a table for lunch, or in the bathroom, or heading down to the ocean and canoeing, or cycling, but at all other times he was in the pool, the least of us at swimming but with the biggest heart for dwelling in the water all day, he was quickly named ‘Erico the fish’. By the end of the trip Erico could swim breast stroke, swim under water and had all the confidence of a child having enjoyed a lifetimes worth of summer holidays. DRESS CODE – So the restaurant was next to the pool and reasonably informal. One thing that concerned me before travelling was the extent to which Peter’s tumour was growing, and his desire to constantly cover it with a hat. We discussed as we headed to the pool that he could keep his hat on if he wanted, but the temptation of splashing around without the care of looking after a hat meant in the pool he was happy without it, there were too many other distractions to bother thinking of what other might see, or think. Outside of the pool though is a different story, with adults starring and looking at us like we were some motley crew, 3 kenyan kids an a white guy, I guess we did kind of stand out. For the first dinner we headed to the restaurant. I knew there was a dress code, I knew hats were not allowed, but while trying to identify some sort of manager the boys where already at the buffet getting food. I gave up looking and just decided to get on with it. Some of the chefs at the buffet had questioned him over the hat, and feeling very protective I wanted to bounce over and tell them to back off in the politest way possible. But when eventually the dress code manager person came over to mention he should remove the hat, slightly embarrassed I stood up and took him to one side, in some attempt to be out of earshot of Peter, to explain to the waiter the situation. No problem, no problem, now it has been explained was the message from the waiter. Still for a few meals from the waiters or chefs not aware of the situation they would say things to Peter and I realised he was being rude in response... not surprising really, in the end I told him if anyone has issues just tell them to speak to me, in my best big brother attitude. After a couple of days though, everyone was used to us, the waiters, chefs and manager guy were all really nice and we were fine. Well how could you not be fine with soooooo much food available. The boys feasted. At times perhaps it was a challenge to find the right food for them at the buffet, particularly as it was tailored mainly to western tastes, but the boys soon found their groove. The most interesting choice they made was breakfast which generally consisted of an omelette with bacon or sausages on bread... bread covered in strawberry jam... each morning it left me delivering a giggle of my own, although that was lost on the boys. ALL BOYS NEED ADVENTURE – bicycles were free to take out, and this was Peter’s biggest wish, to get on a bicycle and go somewhere. We went to try them out, finding bikes the perfect size for the boys... and for me... well it felt like I was on some bmx for an 8 year old. I decided I would manage, having ridden bikes for years in Edinburgh. Helmets were adorned onto the boys heads, somehow managing to get over Peter’s tumour. Obviously being the experienced cyclist and bad rolemodel that believes in ‘do as i say and not as I do’ I decided to fashion a nice baseball cap instead of a helmet, so that I could keep the sun off my forehead and hoping that the protective layer of thin cotten fabric would protect me from any unfortunate tarmac to forehead greetings. Off we went, heading to the centre of Watam’s along a very straight and slightly potholed road. Pain, then some more pain, shortness of breath, sweat pouring down my back, my neck, my forehead, pain, more pain, knees starting to snap under the pressure, yes this bike was indeed far too small for me. Worried I was going too slow I managed to keep in front and lead the way. Watam’s consisted of a bank, a salon, a petrol station, a few little shops and about 3 roads, oh and an Ice Cream parlour. After the first leg of our Tour de Watam’s there was a significant requirement to eat ice cream, so sat around the plastic patio furniture we ate our Italian Ice Creams, satisfied that they were truely earnt, even though we had just gorged on a huge lunch just an hour earlier. 3 very happy cyclists and 1 older guy with a knee broken, head spinning who was pretending to be able to ride a bicycle with some kind of skill. We headed back to the hotel, with Peter who had a HUGE big grin on his face, this had made his day. That was it, I realised we just needed one big thing each day, one thing that he would love and enjoy, beyond the already awesomness of being in the swimming and by the sea, something big that a story could be told from. Canoeing was the order of the day next. As the ocean would leave the Turtle Bay shores to venture on to some foreign beach perhaps in India or somewhere far away, we were left with a big open space to explore fish, crabs and anything we could find. A sand bank would appear in the ocean, and a smooth glass like surface on the water of the lagoon as the waves had moved away to focus their attention on the breaker further out and coral wall with the tide over on that distant shore. Canoes were free for the hotel guests and so we set off paddling. Slightly concerned about the swimming abilities of some of the crew, life jackets were forced upon the 3 boys, again by the overly confident, bad role model adult who clearly didn’t need one. Heading out in 2 canoes we left the shore line for our first adventure into the deep ocean (well slightly deep lagoon, well maybe 5 foot deep lagoon). We reached the sand bank, parked up the canoes safely on the sand, and wondered around the coral to see what we could see. After many small fish, a big green fish, bright red star fish and an octopus we decided to head back. This was to be the first of many adventures in the canoes. PIZZA – If there is one thing that makes a boy smile, its the word ‘Pizza’. Apart from the main restaurant there was also a Pizza restaurant we could go to. Once tasted it was not forgotted, and in some attempt to avoid pizza at every meal I negotiated our way through a week or alternating between the main restaurant and the pizza place. BALANCING ACTS – being a resort type place in the evenings there would be some kind of performance, perhaps a choir, a band, acrobats or a magician. Probably the highlight was the acrobats, about 8 super strong Rasta’s who must spend most of their time in the gym jumping through hoops, climbing massive pools, all balancing on each other and doing flips and flops on some very hard concrete. They had truely remarkable skill. Unfortunately Peter didn’t always make the evening entertainment. It became clear after the first cycle trip and the canoe trip his body couldn’t cope with huge amounts of exercise, he would become very tired, and the headaches had started to really set in more and more. Each day we juggled with doing some fun activities with also time to rest and chill and it wasn’t long before he discovered the purpose of those beach beds. In the evenings I decided it was best he had early nights, to make the most of each day. It was a balancing act between having fun and not pushing him too hard, by the end we had it down to a tee (or is that tea, I’m not sure?). AEROBICS AND OTHER POOL ACTION – The pool was generally a casual area, with kids and adults all messing around. At around 11am each morning the music would come on, blasting through some huge speakers and for a brief moment you questioned yourself and where you actually where. Was this a beach resort in Kenya a or cheesy nightclub in the UK pumping out Rihanna with possibly the worst DJ in the world who only liked listening to songs for approximately 30 seconds at a time before moving on to the next. James and Erico decided to join in on the first day, yes it was time for water aerobics. 2 young Kenyan boys amongst a whole bunch of white Kenyans, Europeans and Americans. It was hilarious as in the water dancing began. Photos would never do justice but a good time was truely had by all. Later in the afternoon was water polo. On day 1 I ended up taking the position of goalie, which wasn’t so much fun, particularly as the slightly aggressive British guys decided to take it a little too seriously and felt being a big guy it was fair to stand 1 metre in front of my face and throw the ball as hard as possible into my face. My purpose for being there was to try and include as many of the kids playing as possible and also to keep an eye on Peter and the boys, making sure these over eager adults were careful with the boy, who by visibility alone was clearly in need of being taken on gently by any would be attacker. My days at water polo were limited, in fact 1 match was enough, but for the other days the boys continued to play and for Peter scoring goals was a particular treat he managed to enjoy quite a few times. Towards the end of the trip, about 3 evenings in a row, as the sun began to lower in the sky, the shade moving across the pool, the hotel guests slowly starting to depart from their day at the beach and heading to rooms to freshen up for dinner, I was in the pool with Erico and a British boy, a similar age to Erico. We hardly spoke the 3 of us, but for probably over half an hour each evening we threw the polo ball to each other, sometimes deliberately splashing each other, sometimes just trying to do spectacular catches and sometimes just enjoying the simple pleasure of throwing and catching a ball. We did occasionally say some things and talk and I discovered this young lad was here with his family, but was the youngest, didn’t really have anyone to play with and was from Wales. I loved it, here was this young lad from the UK, on his annual family holiday, with Erico a young orphan from the slums of Kenya both in the pool throwing a ball to each other, simply as equals, simply as two young lads just having fun. For me it was just another pleasure to be part of. DHOW (NOT REFERENCING HOMER SIMPSON)– On the last day at the resort I booked a special treat for the boys, a trip on a Dhow (a traditional sail boat used to transport goods up and down the coast). It was a sundowner trip, down the local creek, with cocktails and bitings. Normally the boat could take up to 35 people, but on that day only 8 of us had booked, so we had the boat to ourselves. We cruised down the creek, drinking yummy cocktails (non-alcoholic for us) and ate plenty. Probably the best part was the plate of breaded king sized prawns which was left for myself and a British guy to finish off as no one else seemed to like prawns. YUMMY! THE HOLIDAY THINGS – So when you’re on holiday you write postcards, you use your pocket money to buy souvenirs and both of these were enacted by the boys. Through the generosity of so many people I was able to give the boys pocket money to spend in the hotel shop. In the cool air conditioned atmosphere of the hotel shop the boys perused the shelves and items until decisions were finally made and hats and t shirts were purchased, soon to be worn by the newly graduated tourists. Post cards were written to the doctors and people at the Nairobi Hospice who have been helping take care of Peter and also to Cheryls, to bring sunny coastal greetings to all the staff and kids. LEAVING – The day finally came where it was time to hit the road again, it was greeted with much sadness and an almost unbelievable notion that such a holiday could end. But the treats were not over and a brief stop at Mombasa city brought in a tour of the famous Fort Jesus, something studied at school along with a passing by of the massive (fake) elephant tusks that cover the road in the middle of the city and represent the iconic image of Mombasa, something often seen on TV but again for non-coastal Kenyans, hardly ever seen. Heading back up the highway an overnight stop was held at Maneaters Camp, as one of the few guests we pretty much had the place to ourselves. The swimming pool was tiny in comparison to Watam’s but presented an excellent size for playing tig in the water. The camp is situated at the famous area where Colonel Patterson killed man eating lions who terrorised the workers building the rail road through Africa, watch ‘The Ghost and the Darkness’ film for the gory details! The following day it was time for the long tarmac road back to the big smoke of Nairobi, putting the sunny coastal region further and further behind us and arriving back in the cooler climate of Nairobi. The adventure was over, but would be played over and over again in the minds of the 3 young Kenyan boys. A trip to be truly remembered until the day you die, whether that be this year or in 60 years, it was a really blessing, something to be treasured and never forgotten something that helped to put life into a young boys days, whose days may be numbered.
Friday, 18 February 2011
CANCER
Right now it seems that the horrible disease of cancer is dominating everything. The start of 2011 has been a nightmare and there are worrying signs for us ahead. As you will know we have 2 children with cancer and also Samuel is battling with a tumour as well.
After my trip back to the UK I came back to Kenya to find Peter, the 13 year old boy who has been battling with a tumour on his head, having arrived back at the same situation he was in 13 months previous. We were had reached the stage of Peter receiving his final chemo session at the start of January, but just as that was due, a smal bump came up in the same spot as before on his forehead. It was very hard to take and when I did return from my grans funeral the lump had really grown, chemo was halted and tests were done. It was now time to face the docs and get an update. So in the midddle of January we had a meeting and were told the surgeons said they could operate and try to remove the tumour, but there was no guarantee they could get it all. Peter woudl then need to go on chemo for another year or so with possible radiotherapy too. The complication with chemo though is that as he has had so much already the cancer will have started to evolve and build up some immunity so it woudl be tricky in choosing which chemo drugs to use. The prognosis wasn't good and the docs left it to us to decide whether we go ahead with surgery and treatment or call it a day on trying to cure Peter. We walked away from the meeting devastated, how on earth could we make such a decision on someones life?? either give him a chance or call it a day and bring a death sentance on him.
We met the next day to discuss but none of us could come to a conclusion. I was getting ready for the Mount Kenya trip and I knew I needed more time to think. Also I was hoping to talk about the caase with 2 people on our mount kenya trip who were senior and experienced hospice doctors. So for the next 2 weeks I was away on the expedition, thinking, questioning, and in all honesty was probably more worried about how I could live with myself if I decided not support more treatment, its something I am ashamed to say that in a way that worried me more than the choice for Peter, how could I play God???
So a few weeks went by and I got some good advice from the hospice guys, they said ask what his chances are of surviving beyond 5 years. I got back to Nairobi after the mount kenya trip and emailed the doc asking that very question. He came back to me saying that 'IF' surgery worked and he received more chemo etc, his chances of lasting more than 2 years was 2 in 10. As soon as I received this email it was now clear in my mind. We could not put Peter through such painful surgery, loads more chemo and pretty much end up in the same place. It was clear we had come to the end of treatment for cure but now focusing on making the best of the days he has left. Thankfully his legal guardian and extended relatives all came to the same conclusion and there was a great deal of reassurance in that we had reached the decision together and shared responsibility in it.
Peter still doesn;t know what is going on, but I have now registered him at Nairobi Hospice, a place I once went to as a school boy on my first trip to kenya, to help out for a week. How could I ever believe that 15 years later I would be back there with a boy I am caring for. Next week on thursday we will go to day care and with the help of the nurse, counsellor and doctor there we will break the news to Peter. I am dreading that day and just cannot imagine how Peter will take the news, a boy aged 13 knowing that his life is going to end soon. We don't have a time scale and no-one can predict, but with the location of the tumour and the rate it is growing it is not looking great.
In the coming months we are going to face some very diffficult times and some seriously heart breaking ones. It seems so unfair that after all this work, after taking him through so much we are now in this situation. But I am glad of the support of the hospice and I know we will be really relying on them for help. Their vision is "Putting life into their days" so not worrying about extending life, but making the most of the life we have. This has made me think about Peter and the time he has left. I want to do something special for him, while we still can. I remember in the UK that there are charities that organise special things for kids who have terminal illnesses, such as disney world trips etc. If I could I would take Peter to Old Trafford to see Man utd, the team he absolutely adores, or I would take him to disney land Paris. But I know this is not possible, too many complications, getting passports, money, and risks of taking someone in his state overseas. But what I can do is organise a trip to Mombasa, its not Old Trafford, or disnety worl, but ist the closest thing to ana amazing holiday for a kid from Cheryls. I have spoken to a resort called Turtle Bay, an all inclusive place in Watamu. Its not my ccup of tea, but they seem to do things for kids, its a safe place and they have a great swiming pool etc. They have agreed to help us out and are giving me resident rates, with a 20% discount on top, plus the childrens rates are really cheap. My plan is that 4 of us would go down. Myself and Peter, plus a best friend of Peter (someone he can choose) plus James, who helps me out with lookking after Peter, James is one of our older boys who has finished school and spent many a night in the hospital looking after Peter.
The cost of the trip for 5 days which includes petrol etc is roughly £1,000 for the 4 of us. Its not often I would use this blog to directly try and raise money, but in this case I must, because I don't have this kind of cash available. I would be hoping to do the trip at the start of April, I can't wait too long in case his health detriorates and we couldn't travel, but I also need time to get organised and raise some money. The hotel have also agreed I don't have to pay the 50% deposit until a week before so they have given me more time than usual. we cannot put this money through the CWK charity as it would not necessarily fit their Trust Deed, so in raising these funds I would just need to receive them in my UK bank account and then I can pay the hotel here in a bank in Nairobi.
As I say i don't often use this to appeal for money directly but in this case the blog seems the best tool. We will still be spending money on Peter's medical care and we do have some funds in the bank to keep going with this, hopefully we will have enough in the long term, but for now we are ok. So I need to raise £1,000 for this special trip for Peter, a final gift, pretty much the last thing I can do for him other than organise his care. If anyone can help please email me and let me know, small or large, anything would be really appreciated, I want this to happen for him, I want him to enjoy the time he has, I want him to get the chance to play in the ocean, mess around in a swimming pool, have some laughs with some friends on the beach, eat some yummy food and for a week just pretend like everything is ok and forget about all this cancer stuff, I want to put life into his days. my email address: kjbkenya@hotmail.co.uk
Finally I must say thank you for all the support so many have given towards Peter over the last 18 months. Your prayers, your financial support have been overwhelming. I am gutted the outcome is not different, but if it wasn't for so many people getting involved perhaps he wouldn't have made it this far. Please keep praying, there is always room left for a miracle.
After my trip back to the UK I came back to Kenya to find Peter, the 13 year old boy who has been battling with a tumour on his head, having arrived back at the same situation he was in 13 months previous. We were had reached the stage of Peter receiving his final chemo session at the start of January, but just as that was due, a smal bump came up in the same spot as before on his forehead. It was very hard to take and when I did return from my grans funeral the lump had really grown, chemo was halted and tests were done. It was now time to face the docs and get an update. So in the midddle of January we had a meeting and were told the surgeons said they could operate and try to remove the tumour, but there was no guarantee they could get it all. Peter woudl then need to go on chemo for another year or so with possible radiotherapy too. The complication with chemo though is that as he has had so much already the cancer will have started to evolve and build up some immunity so it woudl be tricky in choosing which chemo drugs to use. The prognosis wasn't good and the docs left it to us to decide whether we go ahead with surgery and treatment or call it a day on trying to cure Peter. We walked away from the meeting devastated, how on earth could we make such a decision on someones life?? either give him a chance or call it a day and bring a death sentance on him.
We met the next day to discuss but none of us could come to a conclusion. I was getting ready for the Mount Kenya trip and I knew I needed more time to think. Also I was hoping to talk about the caase with 2 people on our mount kenya trip who were senior and experienced hospice doctors. So for the next 2 weeks I was away on the expedition, thinking, questioning, and in all honesty was probably more worried about how I could live with myself if I decided not support more treatment, its something I am ashamed to say that in a way that worried me more than the choice for Peter, how could I play God???
So a few weeks went by and I got some good advice from the hospice guys, they said ask what his chances are of surviving beyond 5 years. I got back to Nairobi after the mount kenya trip and emailed the doc asking that very question. He came back to me saying that 'IF' surgery worked and he received more chemo etc, his chances of lasting more than 2 years was 2 in 10. As soon as I received this email it was now clear in my mind. We could not put Peter through such painful surgery, loads more chemo and pretty much end up in the same place. It was clear we had come to the end of treatment for cure but now focusing on making the best of the days he has left. Thankfully his legal guardian and extended relatives all came to the same conclusion and there was a great deal of reassurance in that we had reached the decision together and shared responsibility in it.
Peter still doesn;t know what is going on, but I have now registered him at Nairobi Hospice, a place I once went to as a school boy on my first trip to kenya, to help out for a week. How could I ever believe that 15 years later I would be back there with a boy I am caring for. Next week on thursday we will go to day care and with the help of the nurse, counsellor and doctor there we will break the news to Peter. I am dreading that day and just cannot imagine how Peter will take the news, a boy aged 13 knowing that his life is going to end soon. We don't have a time scale and no-one can predict, but with the location of the tumour and the rate it is growing it is not looking great.
In the coming months we are going to face some very diffficult times and some seriously heart breaking ones. It seems so unfair that after all this work, after taking him through so much we are now in this situation. But I am glad of the support of the hospice and I know we will be really relying on them for help. Their vision is "Putting life into their days" so not worrying about extending life, but making the most of the life we have. This has made me think about Peter and the time he has left. I want to do something special for him, while we still can. I remember in the UK that there are charities that organise special things for kids who have terminal illnesses, such as disney world trips etc. If I could I would take Peter to Old Trafford to see Man utd, the team he absolutely adores, or I would take him to disney land Paris. But I know this is not possible, too many complications, getting passports, money, and risks of taking someone in his state overseas. But what I can do is organise a trip to Mombasa, its not Old Trafford, or disnety worl, but ist the closest thing to ana amazing holiday for a kid from Cheryls. I have spoken to a resort called Turtle Bay, an all inclusive place in Watamu. Its not my ccup of tea, but they seem to do things for kids, its a safe place and they have a great swiming pool etc. They have agreed to help us out and are giving me resident rates, with a 20% discount on top, plus the childrens rates are really cheap. My plan is that 4 of us would go down. Myself and Peter, plus a best friend of Peter (someone he can choose) plus James, who helps me out with lookking after Peter, James is one of our older boys who has finished school and spent many a night in the hospital looking after Peter.
The cost of the trip for 5 days which includes petrol etc is roughly £1,000 for the 4 of us. Its not often I would use this blog to directly try and raise money, but in this case I must, because I don't have this kind of cash available. I would be hoping to do the trip at the start of April, I can't wait too long in case his health detriorates and we couldn't travel, but I also need time to get organised and raise some money. The hotel have also agreed I don't have to pay the 50% deposit until a week before so they have given me more time than usual. we cannot put this money through the CWK charity as it would not necessarily fit their Trust Deed, so in raising these funds I would just need to receive them in my UK bank account and then I can pay the hotel here in a bank in Nairobi.
As I say i don't often use this to appeal for money directly but in this case the blog seems the best tool. We will still be spending money on Peter's medical care and we do have some funds in the bank to keep going with this, hopefully we will have enough in the long term, but for now we are ok. So I need to raise £1,000 for this special trip for Peter, a final gift, pretty much the last thing I can do for him other than organise his care. If anyone can help please email me and let me know, small or large, anything would be really appreciated, I want this to happen for him, I want him to enjoy the time he has, I want him to get the chance to play in the ocean, mess around in a swimming pool, have some laughs with some friends on the beach, eat some yummy food and for a week just pretend like everything is ok and forget about all this cancer stuff, I want to put life into his days. my email address: kjbkenya@hotmail.co.uk
Finally I must say thank you for all the support so many have given towards Peter over the last 18 months. Your prayers, your financial support have been overwhelming. I am gutted the outcome is not different, but if it wasn't for so many people getting involved perhaps he wouldn't have made it this far. Please keep praying, there is always room left for a miracle.
Thursday, 10 February 2011
MOUNT KENYA - PHOTOS ALSO BELOW POST
ON TOP OF THE WORLD – After years of talking about it, it being a distance dream.. (of mine I’m not sure, but of somone’s, yes), the time finally arrived for our expedition up Mount Kenya, Africa’s second highest peak after Kilimanjaro, only 900metres higher. Our expedition was to take 5 nights traversing and ascending into Mount Kenya’s peaks and valleys before climbing the to the summit (or Point Lenana, which is as high as you can walk). We set off, gear in hand to Old Moses camp. The pace is always slow at the start because the biggest fear is getting altitude sickness which at the least means you have to get off the mount, and at the worst means death. The slower you walk the better because it means you acclimatise quicker. Slow walking??? Thats my kind of mountain trip! First camp we were in tents, a little too short for me and David, windy and cold at night and arriving in the dark and trying to find all your stuff was no fun. Our porters carry our stuff, plus some plastic table and chairs for us to dine with, total extravagance. That night at Old Moses there was a hut so we ate sat in side, a delicious meal and then headed to bed. David and I both struggled to sleep and by 2 am, without any sleep we decided to pack up our stuff and head into the hut to sleep in one of the small dorm rooms, so for about 4 hours we slept. Next day we continued to climb, the vegetation changing around us, no more trees, mainly bush, heather and some very unusual looking plant life. We headed up to this beautiful valley which would be only ours for the night. IN the bottom we could see a tiny hut which would be the kitchen and bedroom for the porters, for us it was tents again. The valley was stunning and amazing it was only us there. Through the whole journey we could see some of the peaks of the mount, mainly covered in some snow and it was always drawing us and pulling us closer and closer.
That afternoon as we rested and recovered at camp we start to see what initially looked like cloud moving into the valley. After more inspection we realised it wasn’t cloud but smoke from a fire. Above a whirring noise kept coming and we watched as a helicopter kept going back and forth above us. We discovered through phone calls to basecamp that a fire had been started by Poachers on the Chegoria side of the mountain (supposedly a stunning landscape which we had been saving for our descent). People were being rescued from the fire and it soon became clear we would not be descending the mountain that way. This did bring some initial disappointment from the group but then relief we hadn’t come up that way and got caught in the fire.
The next day we packed up and I was ready early. Because of my bad asthma our expedition organiser had given us extra guides, so Paul one of the guides encouraged me to set off early ahead of the others so we could tackle the first initial climb which would be tough. It was much easier for me to walk at my own pace and control my breathing, my strategy was keep going slow and steady with stopping as little as possible. It was all about rhythm, breathing and walking in rhythm, that’s how I would control my breathing so everytime i stopped it was hard to get back into the rhythm, so me and Paul set off, at my pace, and before I knew it we were at the top of the first hard bit of the morning. I was so pleased and realised if I was going to get to the top the next day I would have to do it this way, on my own with Paul as my guide. The others caught up and we descended into another valley and slowly headed to Shiptons, our final Hut before the summit. The landscape continued to change and became more and more weird with what looked like alien plant life. The closest thing I could compare it to would be a Star Trek ‘set’ from the early episodes in the 60s or 70s, it was crazy.
Reaching Shiptons we felt the cold and could see the mighty task before us to reach point Lenana. It was standing there above us, proud and majestic, partly snow covered with an almighty steep scree just before it. All of us felt anxious, how was this going to be possible???? Even knowing that thousands had gone before us in time, it still seemed crazy and impossible. There was an air of anticipation in the camp that night, as we ate, read our books, talked with some crazy Israelis who were also climbing the next day. We kept going outside the hut to see the mountain, I guess hoping in some way it had changed shape and wasn’t quite as bad as the last time we looked, or perhaps maybe just we had missed looking for an easy route. It never changed, and remained the same shape all night funnily enough.
I woke at 1am, knowing that in an hour we were to get up, so I put my ipod on and watched the minutes tick by. At 2am we rose, started packing our things in the dark, (having all pretty much slept in the clothes we were to climb in that day). Tea and biscuits for breakfast and then back packs on and for the first time, really warm clothes, rain coats, gaiters, waterproof trousers, basically the works. My day pack was filled with snacks and energy stuff to keep me going. As usual I was ready before everyone else so Paul grabbed me and said lets go. We set off, the first to ascend the final stage. I had my head torch on, walking poles at the ready and set off in the pitch black. My plan was clear, using my head start, stay as long as you can infront of the others, so then when they catch up and go past hopefully there would not be as far to go so I could reach them and join them at the top so they wouldn’t have to be hanging around for me. So head down, breathing kept in control and realise its just going to be uphill for the next 3 – 4 hours in the dark. As we set off my head was down with the torch just lighting the way in front of me, the ground sparkled like it was covered in thousands of diamonds, the gravel, the grass, the plants, the rocks, the sand, everything sparkled, it was magical. But soon this began to end and we got to the scree, climbing each step but occasionally the feet slipping back. I tried to just look forward and not think of the others behind me, but after not long I could see the torches below getting closer and closer and then I heard talking. As we stopped to breathe I looked behind and realised it was the Israelis, who had set off the same time as the rest of my crew behind me, but seemed to be powering on hard. We let them pass, and began to walk again, my crew still a fair way behind, mayb 15 minutes gap. We carried on at the pace of my choosing, slow and steady, one foot at a time in front of the other, breathing in breathing out hard, breathing in, breathing out hard, we just kept walking and to my shock somehow we seemed to have caught up with the Israelis, they had slowed right down and were struggling. We passed them but they kept up and then they passed me, it was like playing tag for about 20 minutes, until I was ahead and had created a gap between me and them. I wasn’t trying to race them, I was trying to concentrate on my own pace, but secretly inside I was pleased to be back in the lead again. My own group seemed far away but I knew the higher we got the slower I would become and I was sure they would catch me anyways. We stopped to rest by a Tarn, still in the dark, we sat myself and paul, rested and he told me the next step is the last stage, 1 hours climb. I looked down and couldn;t see any lights, we sat for 10 minutes eating and resting. My eyes were adjusting to the light and I could see the peak looming ominously above me, a large black rock shape that was obviously bigger than a single rock, but there it was. I began to see how steep it was around us and that the scree just ran straight down, if you got dizzy and fell it would be a long way rolling down the mountain at this stage. One Israeli met us and sat down, but we had rested enough and set off again. At this stage it began to dawn on me that perhaps if I could keep going maybe I could get to the top first... me the asthma boy, overweight and unfit might just make it there for the sunrise and the honour of being first (although I did have a head start so it wouldn’t be that amazing).
We set off and boy did it get hard, then harder and even harder still. Soon we were scrambling over rocks and the steps up and over rocks grew bigger and harder, harder to control breathing, legs aching, oxygen getting lower and weather getting colder. The closer we got to the top the more I could see and the more it felt it was getting further and further away. I began to stop more and more to breathe, the torches below getting closer and closer, I knew the Israelis were picking up the pace and I had resolved to myself I had got this far being in the lead I must get to the top first, I was not going to let the Israelis snatch victory in the final stages. We kept pushing, higher and higher, the top getting closer but the climb getting harder. I could see the last stretch, I dug in deep pushed hard, threw caution to the wind and worked my way up to the final moment, a large rock to climb up, Paul gave me his hand but I was determined to do it myself, I pulled my way up and there we were, on top of the world... well the small bit of world around me. I could see the flag on the final few rocks, Paul waited and let me rush to it, I hugged it and leaned on it, breathing and seeing the sun just start to peak above the horizon. I had made it, I made it first, I was at the top, in time for sunrise.... I could not believe it. For a few minutes I had the place to myself, it was mine, my flag, my summit, my view, I had done the impossible. What relief and what joy. The Israelis soon joined me and I shook their hands (with a little smugness inside, but really just happy, and pleased for them too). About 10 minutes later the rest of the gang joined. I think we timed it perfectly, I had left maybe 15 mins before them and so it was perfect we were all at the top at the same time.
We spent 20 – 30 mins at the top, watching the sunrise, taking photos and trying to take it all in. BUT it was freezing... I was struggling to control my breathing and soon it was time to go down. This was the hardest bit, we had to cross a very steep rocky and snowy and icy section which at times meant being on all fours holding on to the mountain. One bad slip and you would be sliding down to major injury if not death! This threw me, it wasn’t the height or danger but in concentrating so much on climbing down I forgot to control the breathing and I lost it, and for an asthmatic thats a big deal. We got to the point of being able to walk a bit easy down but my breathing had gone, my body was devoid of energy and I trudged down, the back of our group, defeated by my inability to breathe. There is a small hut on the other side which we were not using and I just got there, lay on the gravel slope on my side curled up, I was done, I was spent, I didn’t want to go any further. I was sad at that point, I thought of my grandmother who had just passed and sat their slowly attempting to eat a pop tart but each chew required too much strength, tears rolling down my cheeks through my glasses. It was my lowest moment. I gone from total joy and jubilation from being at the top to being lost, sad, grieving and drained of energy. Everyone was ready to press on down. I picked myself up, wiped my cheeks, Paul who had come to know me very well came over as I set off down he just took my day bag off me, he knew I was spent and had little energy and was struggling to breathe. He took my back pack and we headed down, past the glacier down another scree, past the most beautiful pool at the bottom of the glacier and by 11:30am we reached the next hut. I was done, I was wrecked, we had breakfast and I went to lay down. I was worried my breathing was still not right.
An hour later they called us for lunch I began to eat a sandwhich when suddenly I realised the sandwich had peanut butter in it, i couldn’t believe it, it was the last thing I needed. My lips swelled a little, there was an itch in my throat and a pain in my chest and started to feel sick. I tried to blank it out but I couldn’t. I went to lay down, I slept, relaxed and in time it faded away. By evening I had regained some strength, the breathing was better. Next day we continued down Naramora side, at pace, the plan to reach the hut and then next day walk to the gate. Word came though that there was a problem at our last hut etc and so perhaps we would be picked up there and go stay at someones house. In a way I was sad we wouldn’t walk to the gate but as time pressed on and the first rain set in I decided, we had done it, we had done the mountain and it was time to go. The final 9 kms on the last day would have been on a dirt road, we would not have seen much so I was happy we were leaving, I was stinking, I was ready for warm weather and a shower.
So we had done it... in fact the hardest bit of the whole trip was sleeping at night, it was horrible, but the climbing, when I was able to do my own thing was fine and despite a rubbish descent I had made it and done it well. We were slow, but that was to our advantage as none of us had issues with altitude sickness and hadn’t taken any tablets to prevent this. I loved the top and I am so glad I did it. I joked with my friends and people who had organised the trip beforehand, trying to show I was forced into the trip and didn’t really want to go and well if you asked me a week before I really wasn’t interested in the trip, i had so much going on at work and in my life I was struggling to face the thought of doing the mountain. But having done it, it was fantastic, hard, fun, tiring but great. Don’t think I would be going to the top again, but maybe the next challenge is Killimanjaro... we will see.
That afternoon as we rested and recovered at camp we start to see what initially looked like cloud moving into the valley. After more inspection we realised it wasn’t cloud but smoke from a fire. Above a whirring noise kept coming and we watched as a helicopter kept going back and forth above us. We discovered through phone calls to basecamp that a fire had been started by Poachers on the Chegoria side of the mountain (supposedly a stunning landscape which we had been saving for our descent). People were being rescued from the fire and it soon became clear we would not be descending the mountain that way. This did bring some initial disappointment from the group but then relief we hadn’t come up that way and got caught in the fire.
The next day we packed up and I was ready early. Because of my bad asthma our expedition organiser had given us extra guides, so Paul one of the guides encouraged me to set off early ahead of the others so we could tackle the first initial climb which would be tough. It was much easier for me to walk at my own pace and control my breathing, my strategy was keep going slow and steady with stopping as little as possible. It was all about rhythm, breathing and walking in rhythm, that’s how I would control my breathing so everytime i stopped it was hard to get back into the rhythm, so me and Paul set off, at my pace, and before I knew it we were at the top of the first hard bit of the morning. I was so pleased and realised if I was going to get to the top the next day I would have to do it this way, on my own with Paul as my guide. The others caught up and we descended into another valley and slowly headed to Shiptons, our final Hut before the summit. The landscape continued to change and became more and more weird with what looked like alien plant life. The closest thing I could compare it to would be a Star Trek ‘set’ from the early episodes in the 60s or 70s, it was crazy.
Reaching Shiptons we felt the cold and could see the mighty task before us to reach point Lenana. It was standing there above us, proud and majestic, partly snow covered with an almighty steep scree just before it. All of us felt anxious, how was this going to be possible???? Even knowing that thousands had gone before us in time, it still seemed crazy and impossible. There was an air of anticipation in the camp that night, as we ate, read our books, talked with some crazy Israelis who were also climbing the next day. We kept going outside the hut to see the mountain, I guess hoping in some way it had changed shape and wasn’t quite as bad as the last time we looked, or perhaps maybe just we had missed looking for an easy route. It never changed, and remained the same shape all night funnily enough.
I woke at 1am, knowing that in an hour we were to get up, so I put my ipod on and watched the minutes tick by. At 2am we rose, started packing our things in the dark, (having all pretty much slept in the clothes we were to climb in that day). Tea and biscuits for breakfast and then back packs on and for the first time, really warm clothes, rain coats, gaiters, waterproof trousers, basically the works. My day pack was filled with snacks and energy stuff to keep me going. As usual I was ready before everyone else so Paul grabbed me and said lets go. We set off, the first to ascend the final stage. I had my head torch on, walking poles at the ready and set off in the pitch black. My plan was clear, using my head start, stay as long as you can infront of the others, so then when they catch up and go past hopefully there would not be as far to go so I could reach them and join them at the top so they wouldn’t have to be hanging around for me. So head down, breathing kept in control and realise its just going to be uphill for the next 3 – 4 hours in the dark. As we set off my head was down with the torch just lighting the way in front of me, the ground sparkled like it was covered in thousands of diamonds, the gravel, the grass, the plants, the rocks, the sand, everything sparkled, it was magical. But soon this began to end and we got to the scree, climbing each step but occasionally the feet slipping back. I tried to just look forward and not think of the others behind me, but after not long I could see the torches below getting closer and closer and then I heard talking. As we stopped to breathe I looked behind and realised it was the Israelis, who had set off the same time as the rest of my crew behind me, but seemed to be powering on hard. We let them pass, and began to walk again, my crew still a fair way behind, mayb 15 minutes gap. We carried on at the pace of my choosing, slow and steady, one foot at a time in front of the other, breathing in breathing out hard, breathing in, breathing out hard, we just kept walking and to my shock somehow we seemed to have caught up with the Israelis, they had slowed right down and were struggling. We passed them but they kept up and then they passed me, it was like playing tag for about 20 minutes, until I was ahead and had created a gap between me and them. I wasn’t trying to race them, I was trying to concentrate on my own pace, but secretly inside I was pleased to be back in the lead again. My own group seemed far away but I knew the higher we got the slower I would become and I was sure they would catch me anyways. We stopped to rest by a Tarn, still in the dark, we sat myself and paul, rested and he told me the next step is the last stage, 1 hours climb. I looked down and couldn;t see any lights, we sat for 10 minutes eating and resting. My eyes were adjusting to the light and I could see the peak looming ominously above me, a large black rock shape that was obviously bigger than a single rock, but there it was. I began to see how steep it was around us and that the scree just ran straight down, if you got dizzy and fell it would be a long way rolling down the mountain at this stage. One Israeli met us and sat down, but we had rested enough and set off again. At this stage it began to dawn on me that perhaps if I could keep going maybe I could get to the top first... me the asthma boy, overweight and unfit might just make it there for the sunrise and the honour of being first (although I did have a head start so it wouldn’t be that amazing).
We set off and boy did it get hard, then harder and even harder still. Soon we were scrambling over rocks and the steps up and over rocks grew bigger and harder, harder to control breathing, legs aching, oxygen getting lower and weather getting colder. The closer we got to the top the more I could see and the more it felt it was getting further and further away. I began to stop more and more to breathe, the torches below getting closer and closer, I knew the Israelis were picking up the pace and I had resolved to myself I had got this far being in the lead I must get to the top first, I was not going to let the Israelis snatch victory in the final stages. We kept pushing, higher and higher, the top getting closer but the climb getting harder. I could see the last stretch, I dug in deep pushed hard, threw caution to the wind and worked my way up to the final moment, a large rock to climb up, Paul gave me his hand but I was determined to do it myself, I pulled my way up and there we were, on top of the world... well the small bit of world around me. I could see the flag on the final few rocks, Paul waited and let me rush to it, I hugged it and leaned on it, breathing and seeing the sun just start to peak above the horizon. I had made it, I made it first, I was at the top, in time for sunrise.... I could not believe it. For a few minutes I had the place to myself, it was mine, my flag, my summit, my view, I had done the impossible. What relief and what joy. The Israelis soon joined me and I shook their hands (with a little smugness inside, but really just happy, and pleased for them too). About 10 minutes later the rest of the gang joined. I think we timed it perfectly, I had left maybe 15 mins before them and so it was perfect we were all at the top at the same time.
We spent 20 – 30 mins at the top, watching the sunrise, taking photos and trying to take it all in. BUT it was freezing... I was struggling to control my breathing and soon it was time to go down. This was the hardest bit, we had to cross a very steep rocky and snowy and icy section which at times meant being on all fours holding on to the mountain. One bad slip and you would be sliding down to major injury if not death! This threw me, it wasn’t the height or danger but in concentrating so much on climbing down I forgot to control the breathing and I lost it, and for an asthmatic thats a big deal. We got to the point of being able to walk a bit easy down but my breathing had gone, my body was devoid of energy and I trudged down, the back of our group, defeated by my inability to breathe. There is a small hut on the other side which we were not using and I just got there, lay on the gravel slope on my side curled up, I was done, I was spent, I didn’t want to go any further. I was sad at that point, I thought of my grandmother who had just passed and sat their slowly attempting to eat a pop tart but each chew required too much strength, tears rolling down my cheeks through my glasses. It was my lowest moment. I gone from total joy and jubilation from being at the top to being lost, sad, grieving and drained of energy. Everyone was ready to press on down. I picked myself up, wiped my cheeks, Paul who had come to know me very well came over as I set off down he just took my day bag off me, he knew I was spent and had little energy and was struggling to breathe. He took my back pack and we headed down, past the glacier down another scree, past the most beautiful pool at the bottom of the glacier and by 11:30am we reached the next hut. I was done, I was wrecked, we had breakfast and I went to lay down. I was worried my breathing was still not right.
An hour later they called us for lunch I began to eat a sandwhich when suddenly I realised the sandwich had peanut butter in it, i couldn’t believe it, it was the last thing I needed. My lips swelled a little, there was an itch in my throat and a pain in my chest and started to feel sick. I tried to blank it out but I couldn’t. I went to lay down, I slept, relaxed and in time it faded away. By evening I had regained some strength, the breathing was better. Next day we continued down Naramora side, at pace, the plan to reach the hut and then next day walk to the gate. Word came though that there was a problem at our last hut etc and so perhaps we would be picked up there and go stay at someones house. In a way I was sad we wouldn’t walk to the gate but as time pressed on and the first rain set in I decided, we had done it, we had done the mountain and it was time to go. The final 9 kms on the last day would have been on a dirt road, we would not have seen much so I was happy we were leaving, I was stinking, I was ready for warm weather and a shower.
So we had done it... in fact the hardest bit of the whole trip was sleeping at night, it was horrible, but the climbing, when I was able to do my own thing was fine and despite a rubbish descent I had made it and done it well. We were slow, but that was to our advantage as none of us had issues with altitude sickness and hadn’t taken any tablets to prevent this. I loved the top and I am so glad I did it. I joked with my friends and people who had organised the trip beforehand, trying to show I was forced into the trip and didn’t really want to go and well if you asked me a week before I really wasn’t interested in the trip, i had so much going on at work and in my life I was struggling to face the thought of doing the mountain. But having done it, it was fantastic, hard, fun, tiring but great. Don’t think I would be going to the top again, but maybe the next challenge is Killimanjaro... we will see.
Thursday, 20 January 2011
MORE CHRISTMAS PHOTOS BELOW
IT’S CHRISTMAS TIME... – So the Christmas season has ended and now we are all into the gloomy January days... unless you live in Nairobi where it’s bright sunshine and the hottest month of the year! The Christmas period has been an eventful one for me and not the best, in a way I am glad it’s all over, but there were some good times had with kids. Below this post you will see some photos from our Christmas celebrations with the kids. About a week before Christmas we put up a Christmas tree and decorated it as well as doing some homemade decorations for the hall. On Christmas day I made my way into the home mid morning, and then headed off to the Police station to report the robbery from the day before to get the police report. Back at the home around lunchtime we started to cook something a bit different for the kids, bacon, eggs and beans. It was a bit tricky cooking outside on the charcoal fires, getting the timing right was the biggest challenge but we managed to get everyone fed and there was a mixed reaction to how good the food was... interesting the baked beans didn’t go down too well, which surprised me as they eat beans all the time with rice, but perhaps it was that Baked Beans are sweeter, but the scrambled egg was a big hit! In the afternoon various visitors came and spent time with the kids, this is one of the interesting things about Kenya, on Christmas day many families do their own celebrations and then head out in the afternoon to spend time with the less fortunate. In the evening we played some games outside while the volunteers moved a huge mound of presents, that had been stored in the library, down into the hall under the tree. After the games the kids came into the hall with tables set for dinner with Christmas crackers and seeing all the presents, they were sooooo excited! I had brought 2 large stockings from the UK which were then stuffed with toys. Each child came up about 3 times to get something from the stocking just before we ate. Dinner consisted of beef stew and chapatti, that day I decided to get a higher grade of beef and so the kids loved it! After dinner we handed out the presents and that’s when the real excitement came. Last year each child managed to get some small toy and a second hand book. This year most kids had at least 2 presents and many had 3 or 4 (especially the little kids). It did feel like we had stepped up a bit there. A big thanks to all those that contributed to presents and Christmas which covered wrapping paper, decorations, presents, crackers and decent food! Of course we topped the evening off with a showing of HOME ALONE, the kids favourite, it never seems to fail. Overall a great day, I made it home about 11:30pm after dropping off volunteers, legs, eyes and well the whole body was pretty weary so my bed was like heaven when I got back.
BOXING IN THE SUN – The next morning after Christmas I was up at 7:15am, heading off to church to lead worship for the first time at KVC. It seemed to go well but to be honest I was struggling to keep my eyes open and have the energy to play and sing. After church I whizzed up the road to David and Juliets. The whole armed robbery was starting now to play on my mind as I knew it would come up in conversation over lunch. David and Juliet had invited about 15 people I think round to theirs for lunch. Some people I knew, others it was a first time. There were a few kids playing around, drinks in the garden, and they had put up some dining tables in the garden too, decorated really well and then it was time to eat. We had such a lovely time and for the first time I actually liked Christmas in the sun because it was such a nice day and wonderful to be sat at this elaborate table outside in the sun eating a gorgeous lunch, fantastic. There were the inevitable conversations about what happened on Christmas eve and this was the first point I guess it sunk in that I could have actually been shot and either wounded or dead at this point. Pretty hard to take. But the day was good and I met some new people and made new friends which was nice.
DOUBLE BLOW – Monday I thought I would pop into Cheryls and see how everyone was. I was greeted by an undercover policeman who was talking about the robbery. He was pretty sure that within a couple of weeks they would have the guys responsible. I was sceptical, but entertain his discussion anyway. Tuesday came and I headed into work feeling very low, I guess everything had caught up on me. I headed into hospital with Peter who was getting checked up after his last chemo. He had a slight bump on his head from banging it on a bunk bed and we wanted to get it checked. In the hospital the docs were concerned and decided he needed an xray, our big concern was the cancer was back. I started to walk him to X-ray, wondering what his meant, if his cancer is back what does that all mean. My phone rang and it was my sister with bad news, my Grandmother had just passed away in the night. Trying to concentrate on the phone call in the busy hospital it felt like my world was just turning upside down. The conversation ended and we headed to x-ray. Back at the docs reviewing the x-ray I told the doc what I had just heard, it was all hard to take in. The decision then was to get a CT scan... but all I wanted to do was get out of the hospital and go think about my gran, but I had to persevere for Peter. We did the X-ray and scan and sorted out a few things for Rukia as well. Eventually I left something like 4:30pm. I was exhausted, confused, upset, relieved that Peter seemed to be fine in the end. I dropped him off, gathered my stuff and headed to David and Juliets to stay with them. Walking in the door it all hit me and I burst into tears. Later that evening I spoke to my parents and arranged flights etc to come back to UK for the funeral.
NEW YEAR – The week progressed, flights were booked for the following week and I wanted to get as much work done before I left. New years eve I finished work at 7pm exhausted again and headed over to David and Juliets, there was big group of folks from South Africa staying with them and we had a nice meal, although I have to confess I could have easily gone to bed at 8pm. We ate, we laughed and then headed to Peter Toners house for midnight. Peter is from Scotland and so had organised Haggis and a piper. It was a fantastic night and for a few hours I laughed and joked and forgot about everything that had happened. We left not too late hoping that the new year would bring more joy than sadness!
BACK IN THE COLD – So last week I was in the UK for my grandmothers funeral. Everything went as well as a funeral can, it was difficult saying goodbye, but I was relieved that I had managed to see my gran on my last trip in November and that was a nice memory to have. I just caught up with a few friends and family and didn’t do too much work apart from dealing with a few emails. It was kind of tiring changing beds every few nights and living out of a bag but nice to get a break from Kenya.
BACK IN THE HEAT – So back in Kenya now and it seems the joys of 2011 are not quite here with us yet. Peter, the boy with cancer it turns out now does have big problems, the lump on his head has started to grow again and in the 2 weeks I have not seen him it has progressed at a rapid rate. I know the docs are confused and it seems unusual what has happened. I am yet to speak to them directly but its worrying times. I have heard words about surgery and all sorts but I don’t know for sure yet. It’s all up in the air. Also adding to this, before Christmas I spoke to the docs about Rukia, the other girl we have with cancer, they have told me she has only 30% chance of coming through this too. It’s not looking good. Last week she was in hospital with pneumonia and on oxygen. Thankfully she came home yesterday but her future is up in the air. Both these events are devastating and worrying, I’m not sure what is going to happen but we are in a serious situation with them both now and I know in the next few days we will have to make a very tough decision about Peter.
FINDING SNOW IN KENYA – Now if I asked you where can you find snow in Kenya, you might probably say on Mount Kilimanjaro, but of course you would be wrong, because Kili is actually in Tanzania. So where else would you find snow??? Up mount Kenya of course! It’s the second highest peak in Africa, I think only 1000ft lower than Kili so it’s still pretty high. I think there might be some snow on top, but just depends on the time of year. Anyways next week on Thursday 27th January, 5 of us are heading up mount Kenya. This trip has been on the cards for over a year or so, and it is finally here. We will take 5 nights and 6 days to do the whole trek. It’s going to be huge, sleeping in tents and huts, freezing cold, battling with altitude sickness etc but I do hear it’s well worth it, well that’s what I hear, I’ll let you know what I think when we get down! Only 1 week to go now!
CRIMEWATCH – So since the whole Christmas eve robbery things heated up around the Cheryls area. This one gang has basically moved in and been doing car jacking and mugging people at gun point. Sadly a child was shot nearby and other vehicles have been car jacked. However it seems things have now calmed down. The police did stick to their word about dealing with it. They moved in a big unit of under cover police and have been tracking down the gang. The easiest way for them to solve this problem is simply to shoot the gang and execute them, much easier than bothering with prisons and trials. It’s an interesting tactical approach one of which I have mixed feelings about. On the one hand it feels good that this gang will have gone, but at the same time just killing them off feels a bit wierd. They have chosen that life though and they know this is how the police react. So it seems things are quietening down again and hopefully back to normal. We are looking at improving our own security at the home, but I am hoping and do expect things will be back to normal. This kind of pattern happens all over Nairobi, a gang moves in, cause problems, police move in and kill them off, a new gang sets up somewhere else where the police are not around. So please don’t let any of this stuff worry potential visitors, you probably stand more chance of being run over by a car in the UK than anything happening to you here, so I reckon that’s the best way to look at it!
BOXING IN THE SUN – The next morning after Christmas I was up at 7:15am, heading off to church to lead worship for the first time at KVC. It seemed to go well but to be honest I was struggling to keep my eyes open and have the energy to play and sing. After church I whizzed up the road to David and Juliets. The whole armed robbery was starting now to play on my mind as I knew it would come up in conversation over lunch. David and Juliet had invited about 15 people I think round to theirs for lunch. Some people I knew, others it was a first time. There were a few kids playing around, drinks in the garden, and they had put up some dining tables in the garden too, decorated really well and then it was time to eat. We had such a lovely time and for the first time I actually liked Christmas in the sun because it was such a nice day and wonderful to be sat at this elaborate table outside in the sun eating a gorgeous lunch, fantastic. There were the inevitable conversations about what happened on Christmas eve and this was the first point I guess it sunk in that I could have actually been shot and either wounded or dead at this point. Pretty hard to take. But the day was good and I met some new people and made new friends which was nice.
DOUBLE BLOW – Monday I thought I would pop into Cheryls and see how everyone was. I was greeted by an undercover policeman who was talking about the robbery. He was pretty sure that within a couple of weeks they would have the guys responsible. I was sceptical, but entertain his discussion anyway. Tuesday came and I headed into work feeling very low, I guess everything had caught up on me. I headed into hospital with Peter who was getting checked up after his last chemo. He had a slight bump on his head from banging it on a bunk bed and we wanted to get it checked. In the hospital the docs were concerned and decided he needed an xray, our big concern was the cancer was back. I started to walk him to X-ray, wondering what his meant, if his cancer is back what does that all mean. My phone rang and it was my sister with bad news, my Grandmother had just passed away in the night. Trying to concentrate on the phone call in the busy hospital it felt like my world was just turning upside down. The conversation ended and we headed to x-ray. Back at the docs reviewing the x-ray I told the doc what I had just heard, it was all hard to take in. The decision then was to get a CT scan... but all I wanted to do was get out of the hospital and go think about my gran, but I had to persevere for Peter. We did the X-ray and scan and sorted out a few things for Rukia as well. Eventually I left something like 4:30pm. I was exhausted, confused, upset, relieved that Peter seemed to be fine in the end. I dropped him off, gathered my stuff and headed to David and Juliets to stay with them. Walking in the door it all hit me and I burst into tears. Later that evening I spoke to my parents and arranged flights etc to come back to UK for the funeral.
NEW YEAR – The week progressed, flights were booked for the following week and I wanted to get as much work done before I left. New years eve I finished work at 7pm exhausted again and headed over to David and Juliets, there was big group of folks from South Africa staying with them and we had a nice meal, although I have to confess I could have easily gone to bed at 8pm. We ate, we laughed and then headed to Peter Toners house for midnight. Peter is from Scotland and so had organised Haggis and a piper. It was a fantastic night and for a few hours I laughed and joked and forgot about everything that had happened. We left not too late hoping that the new year would bring more joy than sadness!
BACK IN THE COLD – So last week I was in the UK for my grandmothers funeral. Everything went as well as a funeral can, it was difficult saying goodbye, but I was relieved that I had managed to see my gran on my last trip in November and that was a nice memory to have. I just caught up with a few friends and family and didn’t do too much work apart from dealing with a few emails. It was kind of tiring changing beds every few nights and living out of a bag but nice to get a break from Kenya.
BACK IN THE HEAT – So back in Kenya now and it seems the joys of 2011 are not quite here with us yet. Peter, the boy with cancer it turns out now does have big problems, the lump on his head has started to grow again and in the 2 weeks I have not seen him it has progressed at a rapid rate. I know the docs are confused and it seems unusual what has happened. I am yet to speak to them directly but its worrying times. I have heard words about surgery and all sorts but I don’t know for sure yet. It’s all up in the air. Also adding to this, before Christmas I spoke to the docs about Rukia, the other girl we have with cancer, they have told me she has only 30% chance of coming through this too. It’s not looking good. Last week she was in hospital with pneumonia and on oxygen. Thankfully she came home yesterday but her future is up in the air. Both these events are devastating and worrying, I’m not sure what is going to happen but we are in a serious situation with them both now and I know in the next few days we will have to make a very tough decision about Peter.
FINDING SNOW IN KENYA – Now if I asked you where can you find snow in Kenya, you might probably say on Mount Kilimanjaro, but of course you would be wrong, because Kili is actually in Tanzania. So where else would you find snow??? Up mount Kenya of course! It’s the second highest peak in Africa, I think only 1000ft lower than Kili so it’s still pretty high. I think there might be some snow on top, but just depends on the time of year. Anyways next week on Thursday 27th January, 5 of us are heading up mount Kenya. This trip has been on the cards for over a year or so, and it is finally here. We will take 5 nights and 6 days to do the whole trek. It’s going to be huge, sleeping in tents and huts, freezing cold, battling with altitude sickness etc but I do hear it’s well worth it, well that’s what I hear, I’ll let you know what I think when we get down! Only 1 week to go now!
CRIMEWATCH – So since the whole Christmas eve robbery things heated up around the Cheryls area. This one gang has basically moved in and been doing car jacking and mugging people at gun point. Sadly a child was shot nearby and other vehicles have been car jacked. However it seems things have now calmed down. The police did stick to their word about dealing with it. They moved in a big unit of under cover police and have been tracking down the gang. The easiest way for them to solve this problem is simply to shoot the gang and execute them, much easier than bothering with prisons and trials. It’s an interesting tactical approach one of which I have mixed feelings about. On the one hand it feels good that this gang will have gone, but at the same time just killing them off feels a bit wierd. They have chosen that life though and they know this is how the police react. So it seems things are quietening down again and hopefully back to normal. We are looking at improving our own security at the home, but I am hoping and do expect things will be back to normal. This kind of pattern happens all over Nairobi, a gang moves in, cause problems, police move in and kill them off, a new gang sets up somewhere else where the police are not around. So please don’t let any of this stuff worry potential visitors, you probably stand more chance of being run over by a car in the UK than anything happening to you here, so I reckon that’s the best way to look at it!
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