I appear to have upset someone with one or more of my blog posts. Yes, I’ve definitely upset her. She was so upset by it she felt compelled to phone me last night to complain.

She, is my sister-in-law Mary. The reason for her upset was not that I made her cry when talking about breaking the news of my illness to my parents. Nor was it details of my first chemo session that disturbed her or the fact that I was doing too much “woe is me” brow-beating.

No, the problem was, there she’d been, sat at home down in Poole, two and a half hours from London, picturing me on my sick bed, concerned that she was too far away to help, worrying about Martin and me, and resorting to reading my blog to keep her abreast of developments.

So, when she read my latest posts, she suddenly thought, “wait a minute, what’s going on here? I’m sat here worrying and she’s out there partying!!”

I appear to have given the impression that I’ve been spending my days lunching with ladies, shopping and drinking wine. No, really, I’ve had to take a little time out to take my pills!! Sorry, I said, enjoying yourself is just an unintended consequence of having a positive attitude and being determined that the b******s won’t get you down. It’s not my fault, it just happens!! (Note to self, keep in toned down in future, especially on “work” days!!!!

It happened again yesterday. That “side effect” of enjoying yourself! After a brief attempt to find a story for work (unlikely in the few days before Christmas so I didn’t stress for too long over it!!), I phoned my friend Jill to see if she wanted to make good on her offer of meeting for lunch. She took little persuading. I needed to “pop” into Canary Wharf for one last present, so she suggested meeting me down there at Jamie Oliver’s Italian cafe. Well, it would have been rude not to, wouldn’t it?

Enlivened by a glass of mulled wine and a beetroot risotto (very pink), we spent the statutory two hours chatting and soaking up the atmosphere. When we parted I had a few items on my shopping list so headed for Waitrose and picked up the requisite items. I think someone may have moved Waitrose though. It’s normally at the far end of the Canary Wharf shopping complex and walking from there to the other end and out toward home should take no more than ten minutes. Clearly though, as it appeared to take me at least two hours to come out the other end, they must have moved it! Well, every woman knows that retail therapy ought to be available on the NHS!!!

Fortunately, not too much damage was done to the wallet and my energy levels were holding up really well. I’m sure I would under normal circumstances have been more exhausted by two hours in a shopping mall! By the time I emerged it was nearly 5.30pm, which put me in the vicinity of the Grapes at around the time Martin would normally pop in for a pint. Also, our friend Trish had phoned to say she was heading over to the area to pick up her husband Colin after his day out at what they call “Sad Boys” (more of that later). So I wandered in, laden with bags, to find he wasn’t in fact there. But our friend Ross was. I had a nice cup of tea to start with (no really!). Then Martin arrived and others.

Trish eventually made it in around 7pm, having battled through London from Hampton Court way. And then the “Sad Boys” arrived! Sad Boys’ Christmas “lunch” is a tradition actually started by Martin and Pedro more than twenty years ago. The premise for the first one was that Martin and Pedro were both self-employed at the time and therefore not invited to the many Christmas parties and lunches that their friends in large companies were privy to. The very first Sad Boys’ lunch consisted of about five blokes sat in a cold, dingy Turkish restaurant in Stoke Newington (why there is anyone’s guess!). It was genuinely “sad”!

Trouble was, the following year, their non-sad mates were jealous of them, and hijacked the event. Thereafter, up to 25 blokes got together once a year, just before Christmas, in an ever-changing array of restaurants, pubs or general dives (they have to keep changing coz no place they’d been would want them back!!), to have lunch, drink, sing Christmas carols — ex-choirboy Martin’s party piece was always the first verse of “Once in Royal David’s City” — and then to pub crawl home!!

So in they all crawled last night. Someone depleted in number this year but nonetheless the cause of a very welcome reunion with some very good old friends, some of whom we hadn’t seen for ages (or maybe last Sad Boys!). My “army” of friends helping me with my present battle swelled considerably last night and I left the pub high on goodwill to all (sad) men, old friends, and a modest (thanks to the 125ml wine glass) amount of red wine.

Sorry Mary, will ask the clinic if there’s an antidote to this most unpleasant (for you anyway) side effect of my condition – fun!!!!!