Hello.  I’ve been at a Spa.  Excuse the whiff of chocolate.  There are two reasons for this.

1.  I had a chocolate back massage which sounds like something administered at “specialist” clubs in Soho but is actually innocent and quite lovely.

2. I discovered Marks & Spencer salted caramel chocolate in a service station on the way there and I’m here to tell you its bloody lovely.

I’ve missed blogging and while I was away I realised that while news on the whole cancer thing will be fairly sparce until mid August I can be “not quite Ripley” about the rest of my life.  There’s always stuff a girl can be brave about that doesn’t have to involve Professor Zappy (ah Vinnie and Professor Zappy – didn’t we have a time of it?)

I had a lovely companion with me at the spa (which I should name shouldn’t it?) …the Moddershall Oaks Spa in Staffordshire that is.  She wasn’t physically there, although I suspect that would have been great fun, but she accompanied me at my table for one at the restaurant, got a bit soggy by the pool and was lowered to give an extremely old enough to know better silly man a hard stare in the relaxation room when he flirtily (urgh) suggested I was hiding the newspapers from him and “he’d be back to have words”.  Here’s a couple of words mate.  The second one is “off.”

I’m referring to the stunningly talented Caitlin Moran and her book “How to be a Woman”.  It’s utterly wonderful.  I barked with laughter at some bits and other bits made me nod head so vigorously it nearly fell off.  So read it.  I insist.

I’m back underneath the huge polo mint next week for the MRI scan that will tell my Consultant if he has to do the happy face and flirt outrageously with me … or the sad face … and flirt outrageously with me!  I’m cool about it – kind of (the results, not the flirting because that cheers me up).  I think you just get to a stage that whatever the news is you want to know so you can move on and plan.  I must remember that even if the news is good I should read the small print in Fate’s little contract; the one about “these things have a habit of coming back so there’s a 5 year waiting period before the “woohoo’s” should be really loud” but hey, the alternative is buying industrial sized packets of glitter and putting the sexy back in Colostomy bags… well not “IN” exactly.

Anyway, I’m still here, I’m still smiling and you’re still reading – thank you but honestly my mate* Caitlin Moran is SO much better at putting her feelings down on paper. 

*replied to a couple of tweets, hasn’t put out restraining order for stalking