But You Look So Good (2)

I haven’t written for a long while – simply because it has become increasingly difficult to do the things that enable me to write.

But why write in the first place? I started writing when I became ill now almost 12 years ago. It made things easier to keep everyone informed as to the progression (or should I say regression?) of my brain disease CBD. Especially during the 5 year period when I spoke to Lance du Plessis on AlgoaFM, I became a household name and inundated with correspondence. Writing blogs made it so much easier.

I still receive many queries and I guess I have let many readers down by not keeping up the good work of writing. When the going gets tough, the tough gets going … So I guess I need to pick up the pen (the laptop!) again.

Last Wednesday, my day out of my office, and my day out at the AdviceWorx golf day in Kirkwood, got me thinking. Maybe, I just needed the fresh air (or the Flying Fish!) or the Company.

Thanks to Darron and Ryan and AdviceWorx for the invite. You keep my money pot and my sense of humour going!

But whilst I may Look so Good, I don’t always Feel so good!

Sitting has become a problem, so at this stage, I will wrap up and continue later. Maybe the shakes that I have developed will subside by then, too. (No, there’s no connection between the shakes and the beers I had on Wednesday!) Maybe, more of a link between the PE wind and the shaking limbs. Not sore or painful, but very irritating. Try typing when your fingers touch every key except the one you aimed for!

Speak soon …


But You Look so Good …

Ill for almost 12 years

I was invited by AdviceWorx to a Golf Day on Wednesday in Kirkwood.

Darron Nell and Ryan Truelove look after my finances.

Two problems … My finances are meagre and I don’t play golf!

But it was good getting out and it was a good day out!

I realized how small my world has become. And it was good getting out of it even if it was just for a day.

It was good seeing how normal people live. And I realized how more and more I’m moving away from being normal!

I haven’t written for ages, and I guess it’s time to take up where I left off.

So here we attempt to go again …

In Memoriam


Ingrid Elizabeth Scholtz (nee Lunnon)

1960 – 2016

In just barely a half-century, but during your too few years on this earth, you acquired many titles.

For so many, you were a leader of people, a graduate of Stellenbosch University, a Primaria of Serruria, a head girl of Hendrik Louw and Hottentots-Holland, an A academic, a captain of sports teams, a teacher and incubator of excellence in Cradock and Queenstown and at Collegiate and Grey, a caring hostel mother, a sweet singer, a culinary connoisseur, a devoted wife and mother, a feisty friend, and a spurner of mediocrity.

But to us, you were just Ingrid, our special sister and adorable aunt, taken way too soon a year ago this weekend on 12 November 2016. We and the world lost yet another special person.

Fondly remembered this and every day by Ed, Pera, Sean and Phillip Lunnon.

The Shrinking Circle of Life

Doris Lunnon 1931-1986

(C) 2017 Edward C. Lunnon | 11 years 1 month ill | Advantage CBD

Today is 28 October.

Our Mother Doris was born 86 years ago today in Observatory in Cape Town. Her life was but 55 years long, passing away on 19 November 1986.

Ten years prior to that in 1976, Mom dropped me off at Helshoogte Residence at Stellenbosch University. Amongst many other people, I became friends with Gretel du Toit from George during my year of studying for my Higher Diploma in Education.

I would on the odd occasion during my university years visit in George and stay with Gretel’s parents, Oom (Dr) Hendrik and Tannie Anna du Toit. When I underwent my military training at Infantary School in Oudtshoorn, I often used to traverse the Outeniqua Mountain Pass from Oudtshoorn to George and stay at 21 CaledonStreet. It became my home away from home (if one could call Infantary School that!)

At Helshoogte, I also became friends with Willem Wust who was Primarius of Helshoogte the year before I was. He also became friends with Gretel and we, on occasion, would drive to George together to visit. My home away from home became his in-law’s home away from their home when he and Gretel married whilst I was in my second year at Oudtshoorn’s Infantary School.

Over the years, Gretel and Willem’s home in Eversdal has become my Cape Town home away from my Port Elizabeth home when I visit in Cape Town. It was from that home that I was diagnosed with my terminal illness CBD 11 years ago.

At Helshoogte, I also became friends with Gretel’s brother Ludwig du Toit, an engineering student. And Ludwig became friends with my sister Ingrid who was also studying Education and became Primaria of Serruria in the year after I was Primarius. And Ludwig got to know my Mom before she died, and our home at Strand became his home away from home when he worked at Somchem in Somerset West as part of his engineering degree.

Ludwig passed away a few years ago from cancer and Ingrid passed away just 50 weeks ago from cancer.

And on this past Monday evening Tannie Anna passed away in Durbanville where she has been living close to Gretel and Willem in a retirement village for the last few years. Today was her memorial service in Sonstraalhoogte, on my mother’s birthday.

I was not there in body, but was definitely there in spirit.

So many  people come and gone, so many friendships found and lost and so many memories forged and forgotten …

Forever Young

To All the Matrics

From All of Us

“May you grow up to be righteous, may you grow up to be true, may you always know the truth and see the light surrounding you. May you always be courageous, stand upright & be strong…and may you stay…Forever Young!”

Diagnose – then Adios

(C) 2017 Edward C Lunnon / 11 Years on … / Advantage CBD

So today was the day I had been looking forward to for two months. 

In August, it became time for me to see the neurologist. It was my annual pilgrimage. Not because I want to, but because I have to. Discovery wants those darn forms filled in again. Is there any chance that a miracle has cured my incurable disease, and they can stop paying my monthly disability allowance? There were also new problems which I had to discuss. So the timing worked out well.

I was lucky when I made the appointment. It would only be a tw0-month wait this time. Thursday 12 October it would be – thank God not Friday the 13th! …”And don’t forget to bring your R150 cash levy”, were the closing words of our conversation.

I made two more calls after that to check on the date and to see if there was any luck of a cancellation. There wasn’t, but there was a “don’t forget to bring your R150 cash levy” reminder!

Yesterday, Wednesday, I received a call from the rooms just to remind me of my appointment at 10h20 and not to “forget to bring your R150 cash levy”. 

Today, before I left home I drew up my list of things I needed to discuss with the Doctor.

I arrive at 10am – a bit early, paid my R150 levy and watched three patients go in before me.

10h30 and it was my turn … Good morning.

Dr (from the chair behind his desk): So what can I do for you?

Ed: I have this form that needs to be completed.

D: I’ll have to do that over the weekend and that will cost extra.

D (pages through form and fires a few questions at me): Are you walking with a stick? Can you wash yourself? Dress? Write? … What medication are you taking?

E: Carbolev and Lyrica

D: Strength?

E: I can’t remember. But can ask the pharmacy …

D: Can you travel alone? Oh yes, I saw you at the airport the other day.

Phone rings and Dr spends next five minutes talking to another doctor.

Dr: Sorry about that. As I said, I’ll have to do the form on the weekend and that’s going to cost you extra.

E: My left hip is extremely sore. It starts in my bum and goes all the way down to the foot. The foot wants to turn inwards and downwards. It doesn’t want to be at 90 degrees at the ankle – rather wants to be straight. Rivotril has helped before. Can you give me a script for more?  And for pain pills?

D (paging through file): You saw Dr G (neurosurgeon) last year.

E: No, that was for my back. I had two operations, remember? I wasn’t able to walk upright and the neurosurgeon operated and got me walking again.

D (whilst writing on his pad): Well start at the bottom with X-rays on the hip. You can go to Greenacres or S Geeorges and then either phone me for the results or come and see me. What strength Rivotril?

E: I can’t remember. And then my eyes are becoming increasingly worse. I’m struggling to see. I’ve discussed with the ophthalmologist and optician.

D: It’s not your eyes that’s the problem. It’s the brain. It can’t decipher what the eyes are seeing.

E: Is it part of the disease? Do other patients also have eyeproblems? Will it get worse?

D: Yes, it’s part of the disease. And if the disease gets worse then your sight will too.

D: (Passes the note pages across the desk and gets up from his chair and heads  for the door): Are you driving or do you still make use of a driver? 

E (I get up too): Driver. It’s the most difficult thing to accept …not being able to drive.

D (He opens the door and shows me out):  Goodbye Mr Lunnon.

Fifteen minutes after entering the consulting room, I walked out. 

I needed to order my driver, an Uber taxi, but I didn’t want to sit in the waiting room. So I walked out into the slight drizzle, crossed the road to the KFC, and stood in the rain.

Tiny drops of water ran over my specs, mingled with my tears and dropped down onto the screen of my phone.

When I got home, I scrunched up the paper on which I had written my list – most points not even asked, let alone answered.

And we’ve only just begun … (And the account hasn’t even arrived yet!)

(And there was no mention of pain pills in the script!)