Dogwalking in Budapest

Budapest is full of dogs. I mean that in the nicest possible way. Everyone has a dog, on a lead, and almost no dog poop on the pavement. Many people live in apartments so there are loads of Terrier types, yapping and pulling and trotting to keep up. They wait patiently while she has a chat, he texts on his phone, or the old man hobbles along with his walking stick.

And then there are the real dogs. Boxers! Plenty of them. I had several cuddles, and the obligatory Boxer lick and undercut to the jaw. Adorable. Quite a few still have their tails docked. We have got so used to seeing Boxers with a tail, wagging along.

There were a few German Shepherd dogs and one or two Border Collies, but the dog we were most taken with is the Hungarian Vizsla. A dog-shaped dog, bio-mechanically sound and slender, with a soft brown nose. There were puppies and adult dogs, all the same blonde colour, short haired, with a high gait. Beautiful to watch. 

And every block has a dog park. A fenced in area where dogs can run and play off lead, while their owners have a chat. These areas were never empty, even at 11pm on our way back to the apartment, there was the office worker letting his dog have a run around. We spotted a few dog parks on our way round on the sightseeing bus too. Dogs are hilarious to watch, when they are just being dogs.

I've mentioned before that I walk Brin the Boxer on lead, because other people are unpredictable, not to mention foxes, deer, badgers, horses and cyclists. And the Farmer would be really cross if we walked across the farm off lead when his sheep are about. We are lucky, though, to have a large garden with woodland space for him to run in. So walks are for intellectual stimulation, just him and me, enjoying a bit of quiet together.

Photography by Lesley Beeton.

Poemwalk

Shackleford woods, Lesley Beeton, October 2012

woodland walk

autumn

mushrooms

leaves underfoot

low light

cool skin

a bit damp

much mud!

mood lifts

lungs breathe

legs pump

smile

companion by my side

trotting

sniffing

satisfied

Lesley Beeton, 2012

Photography by Lesley Beeton.

Blistered in Budapest

OK, so not the most glamorous or romantic title for a blog post. Nonetheless, we had a ball, walked our feet off, got blisters, found the pharmacy, communicated with sign language, patched me up, and off we went again. That's how it goes in Budapest. So much to see. So many wonderful cafes, cakes and coffee. We soaked it all up.

The very grand New York cafe for afternoon tea and cake

The first thing that hits you about Budapest is that the Hungarian language is like no other. We couldn't make out one word. That didn't matter because most people know a word or two of English and we could point at what we wanted. 

Statues, monuments and baroque-style architecture abound (many inscribed in Hungarian so although beautiful shall remain nameless to me). I was drawn to the Danube. We drank tea, scoffed cakes and devoured slow roast pork knuckle and goulash. The weather was fantastic!

Riverside statue

Lunch!

Synagogue against a beautiful blue sky

Parliament building across the Danube

St Matthias Church, Fisherman's Bastion and Royal Palace in Old Buda (Obuda)

Japanese garden on Margaret Island

Chain bridge, one of many crossing the Danube in Budapest

A King in front of the Royal Palace

Getting ready for the marathon

Oh, and Mr B ran the marathon in 3hr 27min 45sec.

We stayed in the Riverside penthouse apartment belonging to a fellow tweeter. Thanks @EvaGodden - the apartment was wonderful, in a great location, with lovely views, comfortable and well appointed. We used the spa, gym and swimming pool in the basement, a great additional feature of the rental, especially after a hard day sightseeing.

A novel way of sightseeing

The hens were ably cared for by our wonderful neighbours, who are now experts on chicken-keeping, and have been rewarded with a double yolk! Brin went to the kennels and his lovely dog walker, Tracey, took him out daily, so he was absolutely fine.

It was a fantastic short break.

Photography by Lesley Beeton.

Malicious surprise?

Following on from last month's lovely surprise, I received this spider surprise in the post.

Ally at everyday miracles is playing along with The Elevated Envelope. The current theme is 'malicious surprise'. Along with the hundreds of spiders(!), clever Ally has chosen to include images from Lewis Carroll's 'Alice's Adventures in Wonderland', as he was a fan of the malicious surprise. 

I wonder if Ally knows that Lewis Carroll spent time in Guildford?

Thanks, Ally, for including me. I'd love to play along but don't have the time at the moment; maybe next year?

Spies versus Aliens

Until recently, I was rather good at spotting the aliens amongst us. Honestly, it's true. Just take a look around you - in the supermarket, at the gym, in the post office. Whose eyes are just a little too close-set? A head a little too high-domed? And what about the size of those feet? That sock and shoe combination perhaps? Believe me, there are clear signs of alien life all around us.

I was quite shocked however when Mr B proclaimed that there are also plenty of spies around. Spies cannot be over 6ft tall, they pretend not to know about Dame Kelly Holmes and have never heard of Feargal Sharkey Junior. You can easily catch them out by asking about their 'plates of meat' or 'Can you Adam and Eve it?'

That's because these are spies from other countries blending in to our village communities, trying not to be conspicuous. So we play our little light-hearted game when out and about, a perfect opportunity at the Village drinks night last week. 

It was a pleasant evening in the pub, followed by us giggling all the way home, as we played 'Spy versus Alien'. I think we both won, but we definitely agreed that she is spy and he is an alien. Try it for yourself.

A post in support of World Animal Day

World Animal Day Blog Hop

Sponsored by Terri Giuliano Long, author of In Leah’s Wake, and David M. Brown, author of upcoming title Man vs Cat

Themba’s story 

Themba was a delightful little Boxer dog. He was highly intelligent, spirited, even naughty. And he packed a punch. He was tough. Which is just as well, given his health issues. He was advertised in the local paper. The Breeder wasn’t all that friendly but a little research turned up that she is a top breeder of Boxers and has been a judge at Crufts. Themba had a pedigree as long as my arm. He was also crypt-orchid, had a broken tail and a heart murmur. But apart from that, he was ace.

Being crypt-orchid can be a problem, so he underwent a small procedure to remove the undescended testicles from his body when he was about a year old.

There was nothing we could do about his tail. I think it must have been damaged during rough and tumble with his littermates. He was born shortly after the ban on tail docking was implemented in the UK.

And then there was the heart murmur, indicating the presence of aortic stenosis. This is a problem in Boxers, but there is a register, which is supposed to provide prospective Boxer puppy buyers with information. I only found this register by chance this year. Themba’s dam and sire were tested for aortic stenosis. The bitch had it. That in itself doesn’t preclude her from breeding (based on pure Mendelian genetics), but it should mean that the breeder tells buyers about it. She didn’t, but our vet is very good and picked it up straight away.

The Breeder did offer to take him back, but as he could not be used for stud, I worried that he would be destroyed. So we kept him, warts and all, and I so glad we did. Our other dog, Brin the Boxer, adored him.

This story raises two important issues. One, dog breeders need to be brought to account. This breeder was highly successful. We saw both Themba’s parents and they were fine dogs. She was not a puppy farmer. We felt confident in our purchase. We asked all the right questions. Our puppy was Kennel Club registered. Shouldn’t the Kennel Club have told us that his mother was registered with aortic stenosis, albeit mild?

Secondly, our two puppies, both pedigree Boxers, came from very different backgrounds. Brin was bred in a family home. We met his mother and grandmother, both beautiful animals. We were even interviewed by the breeder’s young children! He was completely socialized to dogs, cats, horses and children. A clear example of nature versus nurture.

We had Themba in our lives for five short years, and in case you are wondering, Themba means ‘hope’ in Zulu.

The happiest dog in the world

He was the happiest dog in the world. His tail never stopped wagging. Three months ago, he was diagnosed with severe, clinical aortic stenosis. Since then, his physical ability declined, as the frequency of cardiac syncope increased. Each collapse was followed by a period of prolonged recovery. Last night, Themba died.

It was a pleasant evening, warm and still. He had enjoyed his short walk in the woods, and was in position to survey the garden. He spotted a squirrel making its way over to the bird food, and quick as a flash, he was off. 

He collapsed under his favourite tree, and for a while it seemed he would recover. Then, as we comforted him, his heart stopped beating. Mr B and I, and Brin, were with him. It was very peaceful under the tree.

R.I.P. 

'THEMBA'

2007 - 2012

Died chasing a squirrel

Look out for my first eBook, to be published on Kindle soon 'The little dog died'. Often, the first we learn about death is the sad passing of a beloved family pet. This little book explains some of the hard life lessons by talking about the death of our lovely dog. For children aged four to seven.

Now, enter your link below and enjoy all the other animal-flavoured blog posts today.

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Funding cancer research or end-of-life care or both?

Prompted by two new tweeters in my timeline, I've written a comment about research funding and the difficulties faced by scientists in making choices about novel therapies for cancer. The post can be found on my science blog To science and beyond, but I wanted to mention it here, as it covers aspects of end-of-life care and dying matters, both of which are very important to me.

For more information and support to talk about dying, see Dying Matters. Living with Mom's cancer is a member of the Dying Matters community.

This post has also appeared on the talkhealth Blog.

Could all the money in the world find a cure for cancer?

I honestly think the short answer to that is no, but I would love to be proved wrong. 

Funding shortfall

There are any number of high-profile cancer research campaigns, all begging and pleading for funding. The UK medical research funding bodies are really stretched at the moment. Their funding was cut in the first round of austerity measures back in 2009. At the time, research scientists were warned that as much as 20% would be cut from research budgets, and that the remaining funding would be more focussed on translational research, that is, research which would yield applications in medicine, technology, engineering, for example. This meant that much basic science research into novel therapies was cut short. The EU-funded project I worked on for 4 years, looking at a novel gene implicated in cardiovascular disease risk, was cut off from the next funding round. The shortfall in funding vital research will have to be made up from private funding, legacies and public awareness campaigns. So I am always interested and supportive when I hear about anyone embarking on this sort of fundraising for projects near to their hearts. Because behind every campaign is a passion, a love, a loss. 

New campaigns

Two new campaigns have Twittered into my timeline. Two new lines of research into novel therapies for cancer. One is a campaign for more funding for immunotherapy by Ruth Stavric, the other is iCancer, campaigning for more funding for a cancer-busting virus. I have not read the preliminary research on which either of these campaigns is based, so I would urge cancer patients and their families to approach with caution. And in the UK (to my knowledge), these therapies are not available, apart from a small number of pilot study immunotherapy clinical trials. 

Cost

Yes, cost is an issue. The stats for cancer care are astonishing, and an ageing population will present with more cancers. The health authorities are already facing increased detection rates of cancer in patients over 65 years, across all cancers. There is no doubt that a widespread roll-out of novel therapies across the NHS is never going to happen. Indeed, it is rare, even for cancer care of patients who can pay for it privately, to deviate from the standard treatment at the moment. Pharmaceutical trials do go ahead, but the clinical criteria for entering many of these trials limit the number of patients who can enter the trial. There is also a vast minefield of medical ethics to consider, on top of constant monitoring, blood tests, scans and the like. Which goes some way to explaining the lag behind research discoveries.

A bit about the science

The science behind cancer is very complex. On a molecular level the initiator of a rogue cancer cell can vary from a genetic mutation to a break in a chromosome, or a response to an environmental stimulus (like a cold, or a chemical toxin). That is why a 'one size fits all' approach to cancer treatment is unlikely to be found. Breakthroughs in cancer research in the 1990s discovered the bcr1 gene, tamoxifen responsive breast cancer, the bcr-abl cluster in leukaemia, and clinicians have been successfully using this knowledge for a number of years. So it's a long term project. And best results across all cancers will most likely come from a number of approaches, some tailored to individual genetic make-up, some tailored to the individual immuno-regulation response, some using tried and tested chemotherapeutic agents, and some based on faith and alternative therapies. Many cancer patients will benefit from a multi-approach. Many will not.

Living with Mom's cancer

My Mom died of cancer last year. She was only 66 years old. She had small cell lung cancer, a very aggressive form of cancer. Without first stage palliative chemotherapy, she would have been dead within 4 months of her diagnosis. As it was, chemotherapy gave her another 5 months with us. She opted to stop chemo after 4 months because it made her too ill to spend time with her friends, family and grandchildren. And she died a dignified, peaceful death at home. You can read about Mom's story and our positive approach to Mom's cancer. Mom's cancer was complex, made up of different cell types. These small cells spread throughout Mom's lungs and into her spine and other organs. Nothing could have stopped the relentless march of those cells.

And I'm reminded at this time, of two other inspirational women. Ellie died earlier this year, having followed every line of treatment she could, to fight her breast cancer. Kris started CoppaFeel! to promote awareness of breast cancer in young women and is in part behind the new campaign of breast awareness. 

Dying matters

Despite their best efforts, oncologists cannot save every cancer patient. Whilst I applaud all efforts at new discoveries, fundraising and the brave people who take part in clinical trials, people still die from cancer. I would like to see more funding for end-of-life care. More funding to train more people to talk about dying. Because when cancer has run its course, your loved one deserves the best. A peaceful, pain-free death. 

For more information and support to talk about dying, see Dying Matters. Living with Mom's cancer is a member of the Dying Matters community.

A little book

A year ago I was contemplating life without Mom and looking after Dad. I felt sad, lonely, afraid, ill, tired. I started blogging more regularly until I had blogged all my feelings and thoughts and felt empty, ready to start again. I've had a little break from blogging to write a little book on dying matters. It is in review at the moment and I'm very proud that I've turned a negative into such a positive.

The book signals a shift from grief and bereavement to a more outward-looking blog and I hope that will be obvious from the post topics.

Thank you to everyone who supported me through the last year. Here's looking forward to new horizons.

Dear Doctor

Thank you for taking the time to listen to my concerns. I feel that we have made great progress in working out how to help Dad. I know that you don't feel that the recent dementia campaign is widely beneficial, and I appreciate that you may be seeing more of the worried well as a consequence of the campaign. But for the families of people who may be affected by dementia, having a public campaign like this will make it easier for us to have the difficult conversation and to make plans for Dad's future care.

You see, Dear Doctor, at the end of our allotted time of 7 minutes, we will only have scratched the surface of a deeply complex condition, for which Dad will eventually need specialist care. 

And as most people who come to see you, Dear Doctor, actually have 4 or five things to discuss, it's hardly surprising that we have to return to see you time and time again, until we eventually give up and live with the pain, or we are referred to a Consultant.

And so, Dear Doctor, I was surprised to find that the Royal College of General Practitioners is running a consultation about the future of general practice and patient care in general practice. Surely, the future of this most vital service would be of wide interest in communities? The consultation is running until 8 October - I hope that many patients will take part.

And finally, Dear Doctor, I signed up for the Patient Participation Survey at the Surgery. I was asked today about what I consider to be the most important aspects of general practice care. These are my responses.

1. Length of appointment time with GP (appointments are very rushed especially for older patients with complex issues)

2. Better information about late running clinics (maybe a text message if the doctor is running more than 30 minutes late)

3. End of life care at home (better planning would help patients and families)

4. Out of hours care (ThamesDoc is a tedious process often of several phone calls followed by 'come to the walk-in centre')

I look forward to our next meeting, Dear Doctor.