Britonfolder 4 Cancer, UK, Sep 2009 – Jan 2010 : Believe and achieve

Weekend 6 – day 2 pictures

Windsor – Eton train station

An outdated locomotive used by the royal family in Victorian time

The Thames between Eton ( left ) and Windsor ( right )

route 4 covers the Thames Valley route between Reading and London

The future leading politicians and businessman in their formal schoolsuits

The church and university dwellings of Eton College

The gargantuan Windsor castle is a propitious residence for the royals

The Thames with Windsor’s reclusive sporting fields on the background

Sheep are roaming on the plains covering Queen Mother Reservoir

Horton is the quintessential example of a pictoresque village

Low…, ( Poyle )

Lower…, ( Poyle)

Lowest ( Heathrow ). Modern Terminal 5 on the right

The cosy atmosphere inside the terminal contradicts with its busyness

My self-designed poster attached to a fence in front of the CRUK entrance

Same, but with the logo of CRUK above

The CRUK headquarters on 61 Lincoln’s Inn Fields. The hand of God must have opened the gate.

The whole picture

The CRUK laboratorium on the corner of the street is also active on Sundays

Don’t be deceived – it is still the same poster

This is where I did it for and I would do it again, without a shadow of a doubt

Sunday the 17th of January

This is my last day of the Britonfolder challenge. I wake up at 8.30 am, not to early. I dress myself with two T-shirts, among which my CRUK shirt, a sweater and my coat. That must be warm enough. I take the bus and shortly after that the train to arrive at Windsor and Eton Central Station at 11 am. I decipher the route to Windsor Central. I walk in the direction of Eton, where I see the college. I return, crossing the Thames again, to Windsor, where I see the castle. I start my walk here, heading for Dauchet as the first place to arrive. It’s a bit of a other walk than yesterday, because I am restricted to busy B – roads, which generally means there’s more traffic. Fortunately the number of cars declines as I distance myself from Windsor. The weather is almost implausible, so good. The route, though, touches upon the Thames every now and then. After I’ve reached Dauchet, I take a left and right to follow the Horton Road to, inevitably, Horton. On my way to there I walk next to the Queen Mother Reservoir. It’s not a joke, even drowsy things as reservoirs are dedicated to almighty Elisabeth. I can’t see it, however, because it is hidden behind a inclining grassland. Horton, two streets with a shrink, a church and a shop in the middle, is no place to stop. I carry on towards Poyle, the ‘suburb’ of Heathrow. The planes fly lower and lower and I can already discern the letters ‘British airways’ on one of them. They keep coming every single two minutes. It’s not hard too explain why Heathrow is the world’s busiest airport. In Poyle, I go left at the roundabout, right again, take the bridge over a motorway and then suddenly I am at the edge of the runway of Heathrow. I marvel at the myriad of plains who are taking off. I am jammy to be on the western side of Heathrow, where recently the fifth and newest terminal was opened. I walk through an area where I in fact am not allowed to walk. However, no one restrains me and I want to go to the nearest underground station, as I want to go to the headquarters of CRUK before darkness as well. In the arrival hall of terminal 5 I immerse myself into the hustle and bustle. The hall is really the pearl of the airport, with a modern, but cosy atmosphere. I take the tube from terminal 5 to Holborn by Piccadilly Line. After 22 stations I get off and try to find 61 Lincoln’s Inn Fields, which is not that easy in the darkness. Yes, alas, it was dark already. I couldn’t prevent it. Nevertheless, I am almost on cloud 9 when I find nr. 63 and although I still don’t understand the British way of marking housenumbers, I know I can’t be far off. And, indeed, I find 61 almost next to it. In contrast to the other gates, this gate is open and I enter. I stick my self-designed leaflet to the small gate next to the main door and take a picture. When I wanted to leave, a woman had just parked her car in front of the gate. She told me I couldn’t pass the gate, although it was open. So I explained to her that I was here for a reason. She understood it and was willing to take a picture of me in front of the building. Although I am lucky that she was there at that very moment, I owe her much for her help. I then crossed the street to also take some pictures of the CRUK laboratorium, which is almost adjacent to the headquarters. I laughed ad lib when it dowed on me that this was the final moment of my challenge. It has taken me almost four months and it was an awesome experience. And although I haven’t reached my set goal, concerning the raised amount of money, it is a good start for initiatives and challenges on a larger scale. I hope I’ve inspired some budding fundraisers. In that case, my mission is accomplished. Adieu!

Saturday the 16th of January

This is the account of my sixth and last weekend, which I have completed by foot instead of by bike. Why, you could argue. It is called Britonfolder for a reason. That’s true, but it’s also true that safety goes before the challenge. Because without safety there is no challenge, only loss. Philosophical, thus true. Before this weekend, Britain had to deal with the heaviest snowfall in more than thirty years. Certainly the longest period of snowfall. For more than two consecutive weeks it had snowed without a stop. Now it finally looked like the problems coming with it would be resolved in the prospect of sun and rain. The result for me was less favourable, because the road and cyclepaths had become extraordinarily slippery. The molten snow had become a greasy sludge and the ice on top of it was like a mirror, so smooth. Therefore, it was impossible to cycle. Because there was nothing that could stop me from bringing Britonfolder to a successful end, I decided to go walking. The only adjustment was that I couldn’t cover the whole route, which was more than 100 miles, from Oxford to London. Hence, I would walk the first bit ( from Oxford to Abingdon ) and the last bit ( from Eton to London ) . And that’s the way it happened. Starting in Oxford at Osney Bridge, I slipped over the Thames Valley path. I watched the University students rowing with their coaches cycling over the path where I was walking to advise and support them. They shouted vigorous language to the boys, who with their zealous efforts went much faster than the coach could cycle. After I had let the rowing boots behind me, I came into the village of Sandford, where I sat down for a moment to recover. It was a bit drizzly so I walked on to don’t suffer from hypothermia. The next villlage was Radley, which was not more than a private-owned boat letter company. The part between Radley and Abingdon was another 3 miles, and the toughest part of the route. The path became more and more slippery and a large amount of dirty mud sticked to my shoes, which are fortunately adept to this kind of walking. I had a breathtaking moment when a enormous group of geese flew very close over my head. The noise they produced was astonishing. The nearer I came to Abingdon, the worse the path became. Finally there was no path left any more. The only thing I saw in front of me was a large pool. I climbed over a fence and tried to walk between two rivers in a rough meadow. I succeeded by using this way twice. The third time I stood as far as my calfs into the water. It was almost swimming instead of walking. I had almost lost heart, until I discovered a cycling path, the nr. 5 one, very close to where I was standing. With my trousers and socks soaked, I carried it off to walk to Abingdon centre. I didn’t feel my limbs and muscles anymore. However, the satisfaction I had was winning. In Abingdon I headed for the bridge over the Thames, the finish of Thames path nr. 6. I hoped that tomorrow would be a drier day.

Weekend 6 – day 1 pictures

Osney Bridge, Oxford ; the start of my walk

A panel of the Thames Path National Trail

An old-fashioned factory adjacent to the Thames

The Thames Path crosses with cycle routes frequently

The sign of cycle route 5, which I intended to ride, and a buoy, which are to be found every 100m along the Thames

‘The head of the river’, a pub and truth simultaneously

Rowing is the apt sport for University students

Time for a little break in Sandford-on-Thames

Sight on Sandford

An undiscernable sign tells me it’s another 3 miles to Abingdon

Due to melting snow and rain lots of rivers are flooded. So is the Thames.

This panel commemorated me of my cycle trips I’ve made. I encountered them time and again

The Thames with Abingdon’s church on the background

Thames in Abingdon; in the direction of Oxford

I thought that Oxford was old…

The central square is charming even on rainy days

In this CRUK I bought two neat small dictionaries, for 50p each

Morning, noon or night? I prefer the morning

I came upon an article in the Daily Mirror with the following heading: ” Morning is best for cancer tests”. Furthermore, it states: ‘ Patients being tested for bowel cancer should request an appointment in the mornings. A new American study has found that screening for the disease, using a test called a colonoscopy, is much more effective if given early in the day, when doctors are more likely to discover precancerous growths, called polyps. Bowel cancer kills around 16,000 people a year in the UK, mostly over 65. Researchers studied the results of tests on 477 patients and found those done by 8.30am revealed 27 per cent more polyps than those carried out later. With each passing hour, the numbers declined. Although the study was done at one clinic, researchers at the University of California in Los Angeles say the results are likely to be similar elsewhere. One theory is that doctors perform less well as they tire through the day.’ That’s a major breakthrough. 27 per cent is more than a quarter, so that’s worthwhile to pay attention to. It means that doctors have to get up early, but, on the other hand, don’t have to retain their utmost attention during the whole day. Of course they have to be conscientious and meticulous, but if it turns out that the morning is the most appropriate to take tests, why shouldn’t they prepare for doing it in the morning then? It can maybe exemplify for tests concerning other types of cancer. It evokes feelings of happiness in me that the results are so good. Only changing the time of the day is enough to improve the effects of tests. This is what I call the quintessence of discoveries.

Fasting

When I hear the word fasting I always think about the Ramadan, the annual month of fasting Muslims have to undergo. I had muslim children in my former class and when the period of fasting took off, you could notice it by their refusal of chewing gum to their bad breath ( maybe a link ? ). On the other hand, I had always great admiration for them, because I desperately need breakfast in the morning in order to stay in good spirits. I have don’t have breakfast I become grumpy. Nevertheless, I have had some periods in my life that I ate really little. During those periods I was often hungry but I noticed that when you eat nothing for several hours, there is a certain turning point when you don’t feel hungry any more. It’s like you are thinking about what you want to eat and the next moment you have your mind on complete different things, anything except food. It’s a nice feeling. During this three months of Britonfolder ( almost ), I haven’t fasted at all. Probably because I needed energy for the cycling. But better late than never, so on my last day in the UK ( I will be back for another two weeks in January to finish this project ) I decided to fast. A beneficial fact is that today it is the 18th of December and as you all know do we reach the shortest day of the year, speaking of hours of sunlight. In the Muslim tradition, I thought it would be a good idea to fast from the morning till it becomes dark. At daybreak, though, I was found wanting good spirits. I had some bread with jam. The night before I slept late so I really needed some fuel to start the day. This didn’t daunt me, I decided to just start an hour later. I finished my breakfast at exactly 9 am. I went to school without lunch, without fruit or veg. I had school till 3.25 pm, so that would count for at least 6,5 hours of fasting, whether I liked it or not. I was tempted by some lollypops in school, but I didn’t want to give myself a twit for breaking my discipline for something vile as a lolly. Still, I was itching to eat something. However, I was without a shadow of a doubt to carry out my plan successfully. I allowed myself a bottle of water. Not totally according the Muslim rules ( totally not ) but for me fasting consists of being deprivated of food not of liquid. At about 2.30 pm the first consequences of my diet turned up. I felt a slight headache arising. I am prone to migraine and it’s one of the most terrible things for me to have, because the only thing I can do is lying in bed, completely worn out. I drank a bottle of water ( o,5 litres ) and the effect was spot on. I felt better immediately again. The last hour until darkness, I had to pull out all the stops to maintain my good intention. Then, at 4 pm, when it was not completely pitch black, but dark enough for me, I rewarded myself with a mince pie, the British Christmas tradition. I have fasted for no more than 7 hours, but it’s a beginning. You have to build it up in order to be beneficial. Tonight, though, is for now my last night in Oxford, so I won’t stick to that guideline. However, it gave me a good feeling, the hours when I fasted and probably I will do it again in the near future.

Museum of Oxford

The museum of Oxford is the little brother of the big, mesmerizing museum in Oxford, the Ashmoleon. The latter is apparently the biggest university museum in the whole world. I never knew that. However, the museum of Oxford is quite interesting as well. Apart from boring information about medieval Oxford, there are slide shows in full swing which thwart a tedious afternoon. The implementation of human-size dolls makes a visit worthwhile too. For noughties or unruly kids who are in a frenzy of busyness, there’s even a theater where you can dump your offspring. If you like to know more about Oxford’s modern history, your peckishness is alleviated as well. There is a copious supply of info about the last couple of decades, how Oxford evolved from an industrial town to the British cornerstone of science. If you rather prey on ordinary life, you can comb the museum to your hearts content. It is not that interesting so as to rave about, though I don’t want your expectations to slump. If your a scourge of local museums, though, you will end up with an antipodal opinion. A major contributor to that is the abundance of signs upon the walls, among which the one with the bicycle one it which you see above. ”Cyclists only” it says. I wish we had only cyclists on the roads nowadays. Less pollution, less obese children and less insurance costs, so the government has money to get around. Anyway, I aberrate. As you probably can understand, I like to sound off. I don’t want to startle people, I only want to let them know the truth, without jazzing it up. I am indebted to you to talk some more about the museum, though. Don’t take your pals there, because it will turn out that they’re human baits for boredom. It’s unlikely that a hidden fascination for museums pops out. Moreover, foil the possibility of seeing them turn into pesky teenagers. I haven’t got the intention to sound pejorative, I only want to give you a good advice. The museum of Oxford is not too bad, only paying one visit will get around.

General stats

40 : number of years since the breast cancer rate is continually decreasing

12000: number of breast cancer deaths per year in the UK

1/3: percentage of the population that sometime in his/her life will get affected by cancer

95: number of people who die of lung cancer daily in the UK

8/10: percentage of people with bowel cancer who undergo surgery

2600: number of skin cancer deaths per year in the UK

8100: number of people who get affected by the non-agressive type of skin cancer ( non-melanoma ) per year

10400: number of people who get affected by the agressive type of skin cancer ( melanoma )  per year

45000: number of volunteers in CRUK shops throughout the UK

580: number of CRUK shops throughout the UK

CRUK guest speaker at EF school Oxford

John in front of the screen

This day, Thursday the 10th of December, is the day that the weekly lecture at my school, EF International Language School in Oxford, is given by a guest speaker of CRUK. After about a month of e-mailing between me, CRUK and my school I managed to have one at my school. Normally the lectures are given by teachers, who are reluctant to do so because it has to last for 1 hour and 20 minutes and students easily get bored. Often they choose a very specific subject that they are personally interested in. I won’t blame that for that, I would do it myself too, but for others who have no connection or bond with it, it can be a bit tedious. I hoped that the CRUK lecture would avoid such a situation. Fortunately, when I met the speaker this morning, I met a compassionate man, called John. I was introduced to him by the academic advisor of my school and I made him familiar with Britonfolder. At the onset of the lecture I was asked whether I wanted to tell something about Britonfolder, but I rejected that offer as I thought it would be better to do it at the end. John started the lecture with an audience of 25 people. A bit disappointing, despite I hadn’t expected a big crowd to turn up anyway. However, John began to talk about general facts regarding cancer and his own experiences with it. His father, mother, grandmothers, brother-in-law and the most terrible, the 15-year old friend of his son, got all affected by it. Besides his father, they had all died. John had been a solicitor, he told us, and retired. These days, you can find him every Friday in the CRUK shop in Thame, doing the financial stuff involved in running a shop. His personal motives were obvious. Nevertheless, he also puts effort in giving lectures to inform people about cancer. I think this is very valuable and you can call John a philantropic person. He does something for other people in order to prevent having them suffer. Anyway, the lecture was about what the policy of CRUK is, what their aims for the next five years and for until 2020. At this moment, a quarter of the people under the age of 25 gets affected by cancer. In ten years, CRUK is determined to lower than to 20 %. That’s one of the many ambitious goals. Furthermore, John elaborated some very difficult medical issues which I had never encountered before. For example, have you ever heard of keyhole surgery? It’s one of the newest techniques to treat cancer. It goes like this: instead of ”cutting someone open’ the surgeon just makes a tiny gap in the patients’ skin. He then implements two ’claws’ in it together with a camera. The camera is connected with a big screen, so the medical team can see what happens inside. With the claws they can operate. It’s similar to what I’ve read in the Oxford mail about a superadvanced machine which was only available in an Oxford hospital which helped surgeons. They didn’t have to stand any more during an operation. They could sit and handle the device. Another word John mentioned and which catched my attention, was ‘ shotgun approach’. It is used to clarify the way surgeons used to treat cancer in earlier days. It’s called shotgun approach because of the similarities in precision ( but not ). Let’s say you want to shoot a bird from a flock of birds with a shotgun, you’re likely to kill more than one. The same applies to former cancer treatment, in which case not only the malignant tumour was removed but also lots of other, healthy cells. Nowadays they try to avoid that with new technology and equipment. When he was finished, I had the opportunity to tell my story and the crowd listened breathlessly. I showed them a poster of Britonfolder, told them they could support me by putting some spare money in the designated collection boxes and thanked them for coming. It was reassuring to see that some picked up a poster which I had put on a table near the exit of the lecture theatre.