Nope, still not dead. That’s what you were thinking, hey?

But no - Goldstraw’s still live(ish) and kicking - just been hellishly busy. Perhaps one of the more positive aspects of self-employment is that it generally keeps one away from fripperies like blogging!

Health update: I have tinnitus.
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Despite sporadic yet determined efforts on my part to de-rail it, it would seem that The Diet is working. Today I deflowered a hole on the belt of my suit trousers. Oo-er, missus…

Seems a while since I posted a picture of myself on the blog - and normally they’re “horror” genre ones to show off my latest scar or whatever. I can’t promise this one won’t give you nightmares either, but it should show at least some weight loss. Yes, Vikki and I are both on diets - low GI since you ask - and I have to say it’s not going too badly. Strangely, I miss chocolate less than I do savoury snacks - I couldn’t care less about chugging down a Mars Bar but would happily kill for a Twiglet!

So yesterday was Back to Hospital Day, for my pow-wow with the oncologist. Apparently (and somewhat contrary to what they told me last time), I don’t get to go scot free yet - I need to rack up five years from surgery date before they sign me off for good. That’s 2009 to save you the maths. In the meantime, I’ll be back there every six months.

The good news is that everything is OK and there doesn’t seem to be any sign of the cancer returning. And 2009 isn’t so far away - I just took my first wedding booking for that year!

It’s nearly a year since I walked the corridors of the Express & Star for the last time and so it seemed a good idea to bring people up to date, particularly since I’ve been too busy to update the blog much.

Much to my surprise, I’ve been busy with plenty of work here and there - the variety is quite stunning, and definitely the best part of self-employment. The main downside is not knowing when to stop - sometimes Vikki has to literally drag me off the computer at 11pm!

I’m currently working on my first album, which will be sold on the internet and elsewhere. When that happens, Goldstraw.com will become more of a site dedicated to my personal music, though this blog will remain in some shape or form. I’m also doing loads of freelance journalism and plenty of web design work.

Health wise, I’m seeing the oncologist for a check-up on Monday, but I gather that after that (presuming I’m OK) they’ll leave me alone for four years.

Oh, and I’m on a diet!

And you can now find me on Facebook, for those of you so-addicted:

http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=547370521

I thought it was about time I got round to writing something in 2007, and I have some great news to share with you. On Monday I went to the hospital for my first NHS check-up (since leaving the Express & Star I’m obviously no longer covered by the private health scheme).

Well, Central Outpatients in Stoke is a bit Stalinist - you’re rather herded from one waiting area to the next, but the staff are all friendly as only Potteries folk can be and eventually I was seen.

So here’s the news. Everything is fine and there is no evidence of cancer whatsoever. They want to see me in about four months’ time, as I’ve only just fallen into the NHS system, as it were.

But then - assuming everything remains tickety-boo - they won’t want to see me for five years! Yep, YEARS.

You can imagine how I feel. So here’s a toast to all those who looked after me so well, those who lent their support and prayers and particularly to my beloved Victoria for her constant love and companionship.

Many thanks to all who sent their good wishes on the various forums, e-mails and cards. The stitches came out on Tuesday and as you can see from the pic, I’m in much better shape than the last time I posted here.

Even with a physog like Boris Karloff’s there was no rest for the wicked, much less the self-employed. Gigs on Friday and Saturday with Fairplay - luckily I was hidden behind a stack of keyboards for most of the evening. Back home from Leominster at 4am Saturday morning and from Preston at 2am on Sunday. Rock and roll, heh?

So there we were, having a lovely time, celebrating our first wedding anniversary with our families. Who would guess it would end in a serious accident?

I was running around with my five-year-old nephew when I slipped in the wet gravel of the garden, banged my head on Auntie Chris’s concrete fence, then opened my face up on the concrete slabs edging the garden.

Massive blood loss, a 1.5-hour op under general anaesthetic and 32 stitches later (five of them invisible on the top of my head), this is the result.

I’m home, though feeling pretty sorry for myself. I seem to have inherited my father’s accident-prone gene with a vengeance.

Last night I was panicking. The oncologist had promised to ring me up with the results of Tuesday’s MRI scan, whether good news or bad, and I was beginning to wonder why I hadn’t heard. Apparently, somebody was listening to my prayers, as he rang this morning. All clear. Yes, yes, yes!

To the oncologist’s last night. A great deal of poking and prodding. Seems happy enough with me, but orders some tests as a matter of routine.

The chest x-ray is done while-u-wait. Clear. Thank you, God. However, that still leaves the small matter of another MRI scan next Tuesday. The worst thing is the feeling of being “in the system” again. Brings it all back.