Clubbing

Friday, 11^th, August, 2023

Having been a lifelong supporter of Groucho Marx’s not wanting to belong to any club that would have me as a member, I’ve joined a club. A yacht club, of all things. It’s quite posh. And, no, I’m not a sailor. Or posh. Despite Boarding School. I’ll explain later.

As a thank you, and a first reccee to assess the terrains for my gamboling disability gait, I’ve taken my landlady for lunch. It’s a lateish lunch, a Friday, and the restaurant is empty. Everybody will be getting ready to go out on their boats, Tracey explains. After the starter, but before the main course has arrived, we’ve both ordered fish, we’re sitting with a view of the River Hamble, my phone goes. I’m expecting a call from a hospital in Lymmington, so, and although I wouldn’t normally take an unregistered number, in these circumstances, I take it. Is that Mr Mortenson?, call me Guy, all that sort of nonsense.

I’m coming for a CT scan on Monday, apparently. Am I? Didn’t you know?

We eventually work out it’s Wednesday, which as an appointment I did know about, and it does involve a scan, which I didn’t know about. And I have to be fully liquidated.

I’m staring at two-thirds of a pint of San Miguel. Not that kind of liquid.

Two litres of water every day.

And nothing else.

Starting now.

Did I mention the two thirds of a pint of larger? And a bottle of Borolo in the car.

I’ll start on Monday.

Starting now.

I don’t tell Emily, the very pleasant but rather assertive nurse on the other end of the phone, but I’ll start tomorrow.

The jury is out on the effects of coffee as a diuretic, note I said there coffee as a diuretic, not caffeine as a diuretic. Emily insists I drink a cup of water for every cup of coffee I drink. Usually, I will have two or three coffees in the morning while I read, none during the rest of the day (I’m not vegan on this, if I’m meeting a friend in a coffee shop that afternoon, I’ll have a coffee). I have my own feelings on this coffee conflicting information, and have read a lot on the chemistry over the years — there’s a lot of chemistry in the study of caffeine and blood make up — but, here’s the thing, I have developed some house rules over the treatment of cancer and although I shall adopt some of my own wacky esoteric beliefs, I shall obey what I‘m told to do by Oncology and Oncology related staff. So, for the next six weeks (two weeks until radiotherapy starts and a four week course), no coffee, no alcohol. Note, again, I said no coffee. There is cafffeine in chocolate. Why do you think it’s such a huge industry?

There are two things I know (I think I know) about caffeine. Its molecules sit on receptors normally taken up by ATP (deep chemistry), when you stop taking coffee, ATP molecules reinhabit their now cookoo-less habitats. ATP molecules are slightly bigger than caffeine molecules so as they force their way through now smaller diameter blood vessels in the brain, you get headaches. 

The second is that substances like caffeine encourage the brain to produce dopamine (which is why they’re addictive) so the brain ‘forgets’ how to produce it itself. When the caffeine (alcohol, weed, etc etc) stops, the brain has forgotten how to produce dopamine itself (this is not a medical explanation) which makes you a miserable, difficult bastard. Hopefully only for the duration.

Combine those two effects, headaches, mood swings, low energy: lucky landlady.