This is usually the page where I post latest news of upcoming theatre events etc. but there is only one item of significance in my life now, and that is Emma’s breast cancer. As is the way with these things, her diagnosis came completely out of the blue and with devastating effect. Of course she is far from alone: up to 60,000 women are diagnosed with the disease every year. But when it hits your own little world, it turns it upside down.
My work is on semi-hold, and the BBC has been brilliant in allowing me to commentate as and when I am able to, just as Emma is now on leave to give this everything. She is a remarkable woman, known on social media by many of you who will also be familiar with the blogs she writes while abroad touring with me. It doesn’t surprise me at all that she wants to write about this very different experience – not every day or even every week: just when she feels like it. I hope that it proves cathartic for her and I pray that she will come through this.
August 17th 2017
What I have quickly come to realise about this inconvenient cancer is that it’s not simply my diagnosis. It really hits around you. Family, friends and complete strangers have been overwhelmingly kind and encouraging and have got us through this first shocking month.
From the moment those words “breast cancer” were uttered in hospital, and Latest Husband fought desperately hard not to be sick and collapse on the floor, it’s been his cancer as much as mine. He’s been to all my appointments, sat waiting in corridors while I’ve been scanned, examined and operated on. He’s squeezed the blood out of my hand as we waited to hear whether it had spread or not and most recently whiled away the hours while the pink poison of chemo was pumped into my veins.
In these situations you have to find humour in the small things; I’m currently thinking it’s highly amusing that Jonathan hates needles. And trust me, at the moment there are a lot of needles going on in my life! So every time someone appears with a sharp implement, he shuffles like an embarrassed schoolboy and makes a swift exit muttering about “fresh air.”
It may also surprise you to know that he’s been a totally indulged and spoilt husband for the past 21 years; rarely being pressed into any form of domestic service – particularly of the kitchen variety. However, since my first chemo last week, it’s been a steep learning curve for us both, and he’s tackled the cooking with some trepidation and a huge dollop of gusto!
But showing his typically competitive streak, not for him the simple basics, he’s leapt in with risotto, chicken with roasted Mediterranean vegetables and fennel, and beef stir fry. I’ve refrained from commenting on the fact that he’s used every single kitchen utensil in the house. Or that the washing up has to be surreptitiously redone as it’s not quite up to my standards of cleanliness. And that he went to the electrical department looking for a “bulb of fennel.” I’m actually very grateful to be able to just collapse on the sofa on a diet of afternoon television (Come Dine With Me/Escape to the Country etc etc) and then just eat what is presented. He’s also researched all sorts of foods that are good for me, and our fridge looks like an allotment: full of every green thing known to man. Latest has force-fed me buckets full of green stuff from a blender every morning. There’s also a ‘guess the mystery ingredient’ competition element. This morning it was a tomato. Yesterday it was a chilli beetroot: you get my drift!
He’s also acted as a prison warden, allowing me limited amounts of fresh air and leg stretching in the morning, then frog arching me back to bed for an afternoon sleep when he deems I’ve had enough. He’s run errands, acted as chauffeur, discovered supermarkets (yes, he really was sheltered!) intercepted phone calls and dealt with necessary admin.
But now it really is time for him to go back to work before we start falling out. I’ve been lucky; this first cycle seems to have gone very smoothly. I was fit and healthy when I started it and I just didn’t know how I would be affected. Yes, I’ve been tired and slept a lot. And when I haven’t slept, I’ve rested. I haven’t been sick at all, and taken all my anti sickness drugs religiously, so they seem to have worked their magic. AND I haven’t lost my hair yet, so no need to employ Monika (my trusty wig who’s waiting for me in our spare room). So, all things being equal, he will be back on the radio for the first West Indies test match from Birmingham. It’s a day/night test, so I’m hoping he’ll be able to bring me breakfast in bed before he goes (fat chance) but it seems rather timely that this is the first Test match to be played with a pink ball in this country. And given pink is the colour of the breast cancer charity, I’m hoping it’s a good omen for the weeks ahead.
August 9th 2017
Last Saturday I went shopping. I was supposed to be topping up my admittedly already rather extensive stock of bikinis. I had a couple of weekends in Portugal planned to escape a) the English ‘summer’ and b) the cricket!! I had also just booked to fly to Australia this winter to join Latest (husband) who will be covering the Ashes for the BBC. Instead, I found myself shopping for wigs.
Not the fancy dress variety you understand. No, just 18 days earlier I had been diagnosed with breast cancer. The description of a roller coaster doesn’t really do it justice. From my fantastic GP to the phenomenal professionalism of Leicester Glenfield Hospital’s breast unit, our feet have hardly touched the ground. And there is no ” softly softly” approach with this lot – after two hours of investigations they told us kindly but without mincing their words.
“You have a breast cancer. Do you understand”?
Well yes I do but I’m a bit too busy for this; the cricket season is in full swing and Jonathan is all over the country…I also have a full on job for the BBC. There’s the small matter of those holidays I was looking forward to; the equestrian competition season is at its height and number 1 son is playing hockey on the other side of the world. Sorry, it’s rather inconvenient!
The next two weeks became an intricate pattern of hospital appointments, work and deceipt as we struggled to make sense of what was going to happen. Had it spread? No (bizarrely it felt like we had won the lottery and we went out to celebrate!!). What treatment would I need? Turns out to be 24 weeks of chemotherapy, then surgery then radiotherapy. How on earth would we break the news to my two children who lost their father some years ago to Motor Neurone Disease?
So I wrote a list. I’m a great list maker – it’s the only way anything gets done at Agnew Towers. Pretty much top of that list was ‘ sort wig’. And that inevitably meant a shopping trip!! Hurrah, there was something to look forward to. Hairdressing friends told me the sort of thing I needed to look for; lace fronts, comfort caps; hand or machine weave, natural or synthetic hair. I became quite an expert overnight! And armed with a girlfriend and a credit card I found myself on Saturday afternoon in the very capable hands of Martin.
Now I’m a girl who can spend. A lot actually. And quite a lot on her hair with cuts and highlights and blow dries. So when Martin reasoned with me that the amount I spent on a wig would soon be recouped by NOT going the to the hairdressers, I knew we were going to get along famously. Don’t get me wrong….I can’t even bear to think about losing my blonde ( ish) tresses. I might sound shallow but I have heard women say over and over again that it’s been the worst point in their cancer treatment. I will be exactly the same. My gorgeous friend Neil has already promised to come armed with champagne and his clippers and finish the job off once my hair starts going. He says he will do Jonathan too ( he only has a few strands anyway!)
So I literally waltzed out of the shop wearing Monika (pictured). She’s named after one of my brilliant team of specialists who, along with my pink poison (aka my chemo) are going to save my life. There’s going to be a fair saving on my hairdressing bills too…..
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CLASSIC TMS AUDIO
A classic View: Hugh Cornwell – lead singer of the Stranglers
Manchester United and England’s Gary Neville reflects brilliantly on the impact cricket has made on his life:
Strictly Come Dancing judge, Len Goodman: a great story-teller
The legendary broadcaster/DJ Annie Nightingale. What a character!
Downton Abbey’s Mr Carson, and Hampstead CC Chairman, Jim Carter
Daniel Radcliffe, aka Harry Potter, on his 18th birthday
Days after the 2011 riots I interview the Prime Minister David Cameron at the Oval
Leader of the Labour party, Ed Miliband meets his childhood hero
One of my favourites – chatting to Elton John on his piano stool
Eric Clapton brightens up a rainy morning at Lord’s with his stories about Ian Botham
Rugby legend Gareth Edwards is my entertaining guest at Cardiff
England are moments away from winning the Ashes in 2005, and Hugh Grant pops in for tea
Great fun with Aussie comedian Adam Hills
Lesley Garrett is quickly into full flow at Lord’s
The interview everyone still talks about: pop star Lily Allen
Two years later, Lily returns for tea with a husband, a cake and a bump
Mark Webber takes us into the cockpit of his F1 racing car
A perfect guest for lunch at Cardiff – Max Boyce
Lunch with the ageless Nicholas Parsons
A lovely session with Richie Benaud as he bows out of British TV
Tea with England football coach Roy Hodgson
The match referee’s cousin pays a visit to Lord’s: Russell Crowe
John (Boycie) Challis takes an extended View from the Boundary at Edgbaston
My favourite piece of commentary. Kerry O’ Keeffe and I watch Steve Waugh’s 100 in Sydney 2003
Keane’s Tom Chaplin sings a beautiful solo at Old Trafford
To listen to my ‘Desert Island Discs’ click here
For three really special evenings only, or at least until I persuade him to do some more, this will be a brilliant show for cricket fans. Bumble has done it all in cricket, from playing for Lancashire and England to umpiring. He was coach of England during some turbulent times before becoming the world class commentator whose banter we enjoy today.
Despite Bumble being my first, first class wicket in 1978, we are firm friends and share a healthy sense of humour. So come prepared for some great entertainment.
2nd: City Hall, Newcastle Book tickets
3rd: Bridgewater Hall, Manchester Book tickets
22nd: SymphonyHall, Birmingham, Book tickets
4th: Devonshire Park Theatre, Eastbourne. Book tickets
12th: Capitol Theatre, Horsham. Book tickets
8th: Milton Keynes.
15th: Princess Theatre, Torquay.
6th: Cliffs Pavilion, Southend
17th Town Hall, Cheltenham. Book tickets
17th: Victoria Theatre, Halifax.
22nd: Waterside Theatre, Aylesbury
24nd: Pavilion Theatre, Bournmouth
26th: New Wimbledon Theatre
31st: Lyceum Theatre, Crewe
1st: New Theatre, Hull
4th: Theatre Royal, York
5th: New Victoria Theatre, Woking
Cricket: A Modern Anthology
In this wide-ranging and beautifully-produced anthology, I have chosen a wide variety of writings on the sport that has consumed my life, from the 1932/33 Ashes (Bodyline) series right up to the present day. In a series of carefully considered, thematically organised reflections, I examine the importance of their contribution to our understanding and appreciation of cricket. With input from several eminent cricketing historians, including the librarian at Lord’s, the book contains a fascinating range of material, from renowned classics to books that have hardly seen the light of day in the United Kingdom (e.g. The Hanse Cronje Story by Garth King); from overseas fiction to modern day autobiographies (Marcus Trescothick, Simon Hughes, Mike Brearley etc.) that have attained classic status. With 75 seminal cricket images, original line drawings and a comprehensive index, this book is a must-have for any self-respecting cricket fan.
For more information or to buy, CLICK HERE
Thanks, Johnners: An Affectionate Tribute to a Broadcasting Legend
Thanks Johnners is a warm tribute to my mentor Brian Johnston and his time at the helm of Test Match Special.
The on-air incident, in which my comment on Ian Botham’s attempt to avoid stepping on his stumps – “He just couldn’t quite get his leg over” provoking prolonged fits of giggles – most notably from Johnners – has been voted the greatest piece of sporting commentary ever. The friendship between myself and Brian became immortalised through that broadcasting classic, but there was a deeper bond between us, as this book reveals.
For more information and to buy, CLICK HERE
This is in effect my personal diary of my experiences in Australia in 2010/2011 – when England finally won the Ashes in Australia for the first time in 24 years. With additional contributions from the best BBC cricket bloggers and the resident TMS statistician, Aggers’ Ashes is the only companion you will need to relive those wonderful days when history was made Down Under.
For more information and to buy, CLICK HERE
Over to You, Aggers
The world of cricket has seen many ups and downs since my autobiography was first published back in 1997. This substantially updated edition of the book features my thoughts on the Cronje bribery scandal; the loss of the BBC televised coverage to Channel 4; England’s failures at the 1999 World Cup, in South Africa and against the Australians in 2001; and their successes against the West Indies and Pakistan. This book takes the reader on an odyssey around the cricketing world.
For more information and to buy, CLICK HERE
8 Days a Week: Diary of a Professional Cricketer
An honest but entertaining account of a county cricketer’s life on the road.
For more information and to buy, CLICK HERE
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