I've cracked

no - not "up", just that this afternoon I have finally put in motion a complaint to the NHS about my mis-diagnosis, mistakes over incomplete treatment, neglect to mention positive factors, and failure to forward my old scans to my new hospital. Firstly thank you to all of you who sent me texts and F/book messages of support for my appointment yesterday. Those of you following my struggle will not be overly surprised to hear that despite the intervention of my Cancer MacMillan nurse, my gp's clerical assistant, many phone calls from me, and the assurance 10 days ago from Nottingham City Hospital that they would indeed now finally forward my old scans, it was not to be. The Marsden have received nothing. Professor Gore's Registrar made a call there and then - of course they were "on answerphone". I've fired off my first email complaint, and will let you all know how it goes - "pour encourager les autres" sort of thing! Meanwhile, my partner and I had a fantastic day in London. We did a lot of travelling - tube, bus and walking, saw an amazing exhibition at Rove Gallery in Hoxton Square where artist Tim Lewis has created an extraordinary piece called "Pony". (try www.kinetica-museum.org although when you're actually there, you discover that these pieces move!). After that - the promised show in the basement of Shoreditch Town Hall having met with a mysterious hitch - we walked back to the tube. I've always wanted to see (a) where my grandfather was born and (b) Highgate Cemetery - one of London's "Magnificent Seven". As 'his' street backs on to the cemetery, off we set. Well, you might think, hmm, hanging around in cemeteries when terminally ill - weird - but, hey, why change the habits of a lifetime? We fed the squirrels in Waterlow Park on the way. The lady in the little kiosk at the entrance presumed we'd come to see Karl Marx's grave - we hadn't particularly, although we did find ourselves in front of this distinctly plutocratic monument. The whole place is like an English jungle but with angels, dogs, cherubs, crosses, obelisks and columns poking out of the honeysuckle, ivy, marestail and Virginia Creeper. Some of the trees were the first I've seen of this year's autumn - carpets of yellow and orange under our feet. Mind you. there's also quite a bit of slippery pink granite under your feet too - I had visions of being carted off to the nearest casualty and having to confess, well, I'd come down to see how much longer I've got left to live so I went in this cemetery and... We saw a green woodpecker (don't get many of those in Nottinham city centre), and heard a bird I couldn't even identify. I took loads of photos. It is such a beautiful place, and I really did feel that all the 'inhabitants' are "at peace". Afterwards we walked off south and found - next to an attractive Victorian polychrome brick library - that my grandfather's birthplace got torn down sometime, judging by the concrete monstrosities now there, round about 1970. Fortunately, when we carried on walking - now getting a bit footsore, and having to resort to the umbrella again, that the house where the family lived in the 1901 census IS still there. The area is attractive, and I am now left puzzling over why they moved to Nottingham. Finally, having another three hours yet before we could use our cheap (ho ho) train ticket home, we went off to Lincoln's Inn Fields. 'Time Out' warned that there might be a queue for the once-a-month, limited numbers, evening opening of Sir John Soane's Museum - and they were right. Luckily we were only two houses away from the gate - whilst the queue quickly stretched to the end of the square! I've been to the amazing museum before. Soanes was an architect and collector - an obsessive collector, and the house is riddled with almost-secret passages, balconies, basement grottos, and cuppolas of glass as well as the normal drawing and diningrooms. It holds one of the best collections of original Hogarths, including "The Rake's Progress" (I feel my life has been a bit like one of his moral tales!). However last night it was lit almost entirely by candle-light. It had a really magical quality, and was really stepping back in time.... Today I've written up my diary entry (be happy, you've got the abridged version!), fired off my complaint, was able to astound someone on the genealogical website by pointing her to where she can get a photo of her gt grandfather at work as a coachman, made some bread and some soup - and am now resting until Friday evening when I'm off with a friend to the Nottingham Open to see my artwork "Mets #1" on show. Greetings to everyone - and keep doing whatever it is YOU love doing. xxxx Penny