This is a photographic diary of our lives in the East End (2020 onwards). It is a permanent tribute to Dave, my partner, my love and my best friend. 

I'm using present tense here because, for me, Dave has never died. Dave is a very intelligent, scientific and resourceful man, and is always full of good ideas. He's not only an aeronautical engineer and an IT consultant (which is what most people know of him). He is interested and excellent in so much more. For one, his intense interest in local history would make him a brilliant (and such a humorous) history guide... 

Dave is very much a people person. He has a big heart and always keen to help others. He believes in justice and equality and he's an unaffiliated anti-racist. Some of his friends made fun of his leftwing tendency and called him "Red Dave"... In our early days Dave told me many stories about far-right activities in our area. He was very aware of how racism impacted on people's lives in those days... Dave is a true Londoner who feels happy to live in a multicultural neighbourhood.

As all his family and friends would know, Dave has a fantastic sense of humour - and his sometimes dark humour suits me perfectly and we laughed so much together... At the same time he is sensitive and always young-at-heart, and I've found his occasional melancholy so sweet and loving. (Do you know anyone who cries over Toy Story?) 

Dave absolutely loves life, which makes him so loveable. He has always wanted to explore new things and see more of the world. When we started to live together in 2013, he said to me that he has found the right person to do "adventures" with... We both believed that we had every opportunity to be happy. "Adventure" is the way we've looked at life... Subsequently, we have lived our lives fully and adventurously, for years. During our many travels, Dave has developed a strong interest in photography. He started to take pictures during my work, too, and many of his fantastic pictures were used alongside my articles. We enjoyed being a team very much. Our "adventure" took us back to Italy in 2018, where we lived in Palermo and Marsala for a while (when I worked on my book project) and travelled across the south of Italy during those two years. Those were the best times of our lives.

That all changed since the year 2020. Our happiness was suddenly taken away from us. This space was created to document our lives and our battles with Dave's terminal illness in the middle of an unprecedented pandemic. This is a collection of Dave's and my own photographs, our notes, our thoughts and reflections in the form of a diary. It has also become a space for self-therapy in the context of our isolation. When Dave passed away on the 14th of September, 2023, this space has become the place where I can always talk about Dave and tell our story over and over again. This is the space where Dave is forever living. 

That year, 2020...

Ever since Covid-19 became a pandemic, life has changed irreversibly for many of us. Living under lockdowns, the temporary (or, for some, permanent) end of a working life, a drastic reduction of human interaction, mental and physical illness, and worst of all, the loss of loved ones - we have all lived through this unprecedented time.

Throughout 2020, my partner Dave and I struggled living under the Covid outbreaks and lockdowns. We both had symptoms which indicated developing health problems, which led us to request tests and scans from the NHS. It was an unnecessarily long process, made doubly painful by the pandemic. At midday on the 10th of November 2020, after waiting and pacing up and down for two hours at the Royal London Hospital, we were given the news that neither of us was prepared for: Dave was diagnosed with stage four colon cancer.

"Oh dear, I am sorry," Dave said as he turned to me, as if to apologise for the prospect of his shortened life. I was shocked into silence. The news felt unreal. "Let me wake up from this nightmare," I screamed inside. When the consultation was nearly over, I burst into tears. As we left the hospital, we cried together in the street.

Dave's diagnosis crushed us and sent us into places where we had never been before, where we were led along by the randomness of fate. "I don't want to die. I want to be with you," Dave said to me one night. Heartbroken, we went into a cycle alternating between denial and despair. How do you live your life when you are told there is an end point coming sometime in the near future?

But over time, during 2021, we managed to find hope, because we desperately needed to hope. We discovered new strengths - and developed the strengths that I never knew we had. We have learned to deal with the multiple misfortunes that seem to rain down on us. As individuals we couldn't repair the failings of the NHS - failings not least in its preventive and primary healthcare, which meant that Dave missed the opportunity to have his illness discovered and diagnosed early. But what we were able to drastically change was our lifestyle. We quitted smoking and alcohol and started to love taking long walks. We have turned ourselves into healthy-eating "freaks," in some people's eyes. Apart from Dave's chemotherapy, we explored various treatment options and sought advice on surgery. We fought the illness really hard.

In February 2021, after a long process of demanding scans and waiting for results, I was diagnosed with an illness, too. Unlike Dave, I am an introvert and have chosen not to talk about my illness and its medical details in public. Suffice to say the problem was caught early enough and I'm going to live - as long as it doesn't come back.

What happened since 2020 has taught us so much about ourselves - and all those around us, and our environment and society. In adversity, I have learned to understand what's important in life and have become much closer to family and friends. I have regrets about things that I should have done in the past - visiting my family and spending more time with them, and talking more to friends. I've realised that I could have given more time to many good people around me...

Since 2020, we have re-established our relationships with our neighbourhood and our local area, and got to know it a whole lot more. Strange to think that all that time when we were away, we had forgotten that there is so much to discover about the East End where we have lived for many years... Now having rediscovered our neighbourhood, I have come to understand what made Dave choose to become an Eastender quite proudly and why he wouldn't want to spend his last days anywhere else. 

Throughout Dave's tremendously brave fight against his illness, our struggles here together in the past three years have made us even stronger and kept us determined. We know that we are each other's home. And the East End is our home. When I walk down Whitechapel Road every day, I still hear Dave telling me little stories on any street corners, with a huge smile on his face. 

July 2020

Covid-19 conceals deepening privatisation of the NHS

17 September, 2020

This year, we couldn't celebrate Dave's birthday properly during the pandemic. I tried to find an outdoor activity that will be Covid-safe. Decided to book a street art tour for Dave as he was so interested in the street art in East London. We made sure we wore masks, so did the guide... It was a very nice but strange experience as we were all masked-up and keeping distance from each other. 

10 November 

                                                                                            Photos by Dave

12 November

It's taking time to book an appointment with the oncologist - Dave's trying to ask him/her to respond via the nurse we met in the team. He called yesterday and again today. Still no reply. It is only after a meeting with the oncologist that Dave will receive chemotherapy. So any delay is bad.

Dave and I took our daily walk - to Brick Lane today. We had a little cry again... We were feeling so helpless. Then I spent the evening looking up information online about his cancer. We cried together in bed...

13 November

Dave's oncologist called and went through his case with him. The plan is to start targeted therapy next Friday. However, the doctor said that the liver doesn't look likely to be operated on. We have to wait till chemo has been under way for three months, to see if the condition is suitable for surgery. Ablation is an option, he said. It's extremely worrying, but at least the plan is in place and Dave will meet the doctor and chemo nurse team next Wednesday.

We took a walk to the city, photographing architecture along the way. Dave suddenly turned to me and said, "Maybe it's against nature that two people are in love with each other." Is his cancer some kind of horrible punishment for happiness?

 

15 November

Dave's brother Michael visited last night, bringing loads of bog rolls and printing paper to us. He came in and had a cup of green tea with us.

Michael has been exchanging messages with us all week, checking on us. Sometimes he tried to cheer us up by sending humorous memes... Last night he brought a series of Sweeney for us to watch - it was a comedy series in the 1970s that Dave and Michael used to watch with their parents.

Dave and I cried every time we thought about the prospect of being parted... I'm feeling so angry and destroyed inside. How are we going to carry on with life if we don't try to block the idea of the terminal illness out of our minds?

We tried to distract ourselves and watched Woody Allen's Life and Death last night... But as soon as the film ended, it was back to reality again. 

21 November

I've been reading the brochures about cancer and chemotherapy. Scary to read about the possible infections after chemo... At the moment, a week before Dave's chemo, we're trying our best not to catch Covid...

By now, I've done enough online research to know the meaning of Dave's prognosis…I want to cry each time I look at him. I feel his fear and my heart never stops breaking for him. At the same time, I must keep his hope up and encourage him to keep fighting.

26 November

Couldn't help crying at the thought of Dave's suffering. He couldn't help crying when hearing me cry. Despair runs our lives. But we carried on consoling each other and said we will fight it with all our strengths...

I'm dealing with my own health problems at the same time. This morning, I saw that my two referrals were overdue (no booking yet), so I called the GP surgery. The receptionist said the system was down and "call back tomorrow". I was furious. "If someone needs help, you're going to tell them to call back tomorrow?" She said quite firmly, "Yes."

My e-consultation request yesterday was useless - the surgery replied by text saying someone will call me on the 30th, which is 4 days' time.

Feeling ill all day - belly ache, feeling like vomiting. Didn't go to the A&E because I didn't want the risk of catching Covid. I have to make sure there's no risk when Dave's going to chemo tomorrow morning. Prepared fruit and a sandwich for his first day. Dave packed his trousers and two books, to take with him to Barts.

27 November

Got up at 6am to prepare for Dave's pick-up at 7.30am. He's got his lunchbox (a sandwich and an apple) in his rucksack. It was so sad to see him get on the ambulance alone...I wasn't allowed to go with him because of Covid risks. (Later, we started to walk to Barts instead of using the ambulance.) 

A lot of tears this morning...especially when he sent a picture of him with a face mask in the chemo ward on the 7th floor of Barts. I don't want him to be alone. I can only keep praying that his treatment will go well today and he will be strong and get better...

Dave sent me many texts just before 9.30am when he was supposed to start the procedure. Then he was kept waiting in a room, with thirty other patients. I started washing and chopping all the veg after 10am, to prepare for dinner. We continued to exchange texts. After midday, Dave was still waiting. The ward was hopelessly inefficient. It was extremely insensitive to keep cancer patients waiting for so long... We were going to find out the severe problem of staff shortage later on...

Michael texted to ask if I have eaten. I said I'm going to have my Special K... He said I should eat something with more protein, like eggs. Then, to cheer me up, he sent me a picture of Mokey, his cat, sitting on his computer.

Dave finally got called in, and was given anti-sickness drug at around 3pm. Then half an hour later, he was given his first chemo infusion. He said his tummy felt funny but overall it was fine. Then at 4pm, he was given a second infusion. He then relaxed and started reading. Then the third infusion to take home. Dave called it a pickle jar... The nurse will come on Sunday to pick it up. There are also the anti-sickness drugs to take for five days and steroid for two days...

When Dave was dropped off by the ambulance and came home, he was tired but had quite good appetite. He had the whole plate of dinner that I prepared: cod with ginger and garlic, mash potatoes, asparagus, cabbage.

15 December

We walked via Cable Street to Tower Bridge, and watched the boats against the sunset. This is one of our favourite old routes... Many memories, many photographs to remember them by. We walked back through Wapping, like we always did. We chatted and joked about the idea of living in a nice flat near the river, to spend our last days.

My parents and family have been worried about our situation and we talk and message each other regularly. My mother and sister have been praying for Dave... This evening I received a present from my brother, sister-in-law and the children. It was a winter blanket, fluffy and warm... And there were three cards in the box: one card from the family, one from my nephew Hong Hong which he drew himself, and another one he made from last year. He wrote the heart-warming words "I love you" inside...

My brother wrote these words, too, on the family card to me. I know that it's not easy for him to express emotions - or at least that was what I knew ten years ago...I remember the time when he used to stay with me in East London, he couldn't bring himself to say "happy birthday" to me, but bought me a really lovely wallet and handed it to me... These words I received today made me feel that, deep down, he's still my little brother, despite all the changes...

22 December

The Covid situation never ceases to get worse...We have 3,913 cases in Tower Hamlets today, a frightening increase...The new Covid variant seems to spread fast and there's no stopping it...14 countries have now banned flights from Britain. So exhausted with this whole pandemic. 

24 December

Dave's third chemo session today. It was very depressing to see him having to go through chemo just before Christmas. Dave felt calmer when the drip started...I spent the day preparing paella. Talked with Les, which was therapeutic. Then Ibrahim called from Sicily. They're in a lockdown right now and he hasn't been able to travel to Palermo. He'll be trapped in Trapani this winter, with little work, until January, when the garlic harvest will begin. Christmas will mean nothing to him and his co-workers. 

1 January 2021

We are glad to see the back of 2020. But very sadly its impact remains with us...and we'll never be able to recover from it.

                                                                                                                   Photo by Dave

3 January 

Patients in limbo after cancelled cancer surgery as Covid delays NHS care

In Between difficult medical treatments, we found time to be ourselves...

22 February 

March 

Johnson wants to move on from Covid - 125,000 deaths shows why we need an inquiry

9 March 

Dave decided to take only one steroids tablet today, so that he will have one to take tomorrow as well (instead of two today). That made him much more tired today... We took a slightly shorter walk from Stepney to Limehouse.

I've been talking with my family regularly. My brother sent a message today, saying, "I know that you must be under huge pressure right now. If you'd like to talk, please let me know. I'm your family." It really moved me. We had a little chat then...

12 March 

Based on cousin Sarah's advice, we went to London Bridge Hospital to see consultant Mark George, to discuss treatment options. Mark George looked at Dave's medical reports and scan results, and concluded that the NHS treatment has been positive and working well. He said Dave should continue with it, of course... He also said that other stronger drugs like Avastin can be added along the way.

However, he made it clear that a liver surgery is not possible. Nor an ablation. This is because there are too many lesions in the liver. A colon surgery, he said, will be pointless because the liver is filled with cancer... A colon surgery will weaken the immune system and any complications will have to disrupt the treatment for the liver. Then Dave asked about liver transplant. Mark George said it's not possible because the immune system will have to be suppressed which will help cancer to grow.

The key is to carry on with the current treatment and try to prolong life, he said. He recommended that Dave sees a liver expert at the same hospital, which we will do soon.

So sad to be given little hope...Yet we both thought this might be the outcome of the meeting. It has come to a point where we are taking things as they come... Feeling mentally drained on the walk back home. Dave felt particularly tired today, as it was his 7th day after chemo.

April

8 June

June

12 July

29 July

Dave called his nurse and asked more info about the Royal London meeting in which we will continue to discuss the surgery option. She said that the team thought a liver surgery should happen first. But the risks are too big for them to consider at this stage. They said Dave should simply continue with his chemo. She booked an appointment for Dave to meet his oncologist face-to-face in early August. His oncologist always gave me the impressions that he was never ready for the consultation...

Went with Dave to have our regular pre-chemo blood test at Royal London. Then I went home and cooked a veg stew and chicken teriyaki. 

Photo by Dave, at the end of our walk (masked-up) with John, Olga & friends, 3 September 2021 

Photos by Dave, September:

16 September

For Dave's birthday this year, we weren't able to organise a birthday meal with friends because of Covid risks. I invited Michael for a three-person dinner and he was free this evening. I got us delicious Greek food for a celebratory dinner: A range of meze dishes followed by lemon chicken for us and beef and chips for Michael. Plus sweet sponge and strawberries and peach for dissert. Now that's just a warm-up for tomorrow - Dave's actual birthday!

17 September

Got up early and got ready to open the door to delivery of various treats for Dave's birthday! He received many cards and good wishes from family and friends. He also chatted with cousin Sarah for a while. Yuren and my parents called to give Dave their good wishes. My parents were singing happy birthday, which cheered Dave up... Yuren chatted with us for a while. Les also kindly sent his birthday wishes. 

We waited for the nurse to come change Dave's dressing. Then we walked to Shoreditch for a celebratory tapas lunch which Dave enjoyed a lot.

Celebration continued in the evening, with more pressies from me! 

18 September

We went to Brighton for the day, to continue Dave's birthday celebration. Lots of sunshine, a beach festival, and many good people around... We walked about twenty miles today! 

                                        Photo by Dave, on our day out in Hastings, 21 September 2021

4 October 

Dave got a call from the nurse at Kings College Hospital. They had had a meeting discussing his case. His latest MRI and PET-scan show that the tumours aren't shrinking further. And in fact, one of them seems to be lit up in the PET-scan, indicating being active.

Dave will need detailed explanation from the surgeon in the team in two days' time. But the gist is that surgery is not being considered by them right now. They might be suggesting change of chemo drug...

Feeling depressed all day. 

7 October

Dave's King's College Hospital surgeon (the one we met at London Bridge Hospital) called this morning to explain to him about their decision. The latest MRI and PET scan show that there are two to three lesions increased slightly in size and there are two or three new lesions in the liver. There's also lymph nodes enlargement. All indicating a slight progression of the disease. He suggested a second line chemo but this needs to be discussed with the oncologist on Monday.

All very depressing. But we're trying to carry on as normal. Still keep on with the exercise - and trying to do more. We're doing around 15 hours of low to medium level exercise per week. Also an extra hour before bedtime.

We walked through Victoria Park to feed squirrels... Dave picked loads of chestnuts and fed them to several cute little squirrels...

11 October

Dave's Barts oncologist called to discuss the scans and treatment. He doesn't think the progression of the disease is as bad as what it might sound a few days ago from Kings College hospital. Because the MRI doesn't show a worse trend (and the disease is stable generally). So he thinks Dave should carry on with the same chemo for the moment... Whether or not Dave will have a different chemo drug will depend on how he's doing in the coming weeks and months...

The oncologist also said that Dave should stop thinking about reviewing for surgery every three months because that will be too stressful for him and he will suffer from it... "That doesn't mean you can't think about that later," the oncologist said.

10 November

Dave's tumour marker score went down to 4.3 this time. This is the lowest ever... We were so glad to know this. But it's still uncertain what it means in the long term... We will see in December when he has the scan.

25 November, Dave's update to family and friends:

24 December 2021, Dave's update to family and friends:

"Well goodness gracious me, it's actually Christmas!

Sorry about the late update, it's been a busy run up to Christmas and I completed chemo number 27 on Wednesday… I had some MRI & CT scans to allow my oncologist to review how I'm doing with my current chemo treatment which I've been having unchanged for a year. I think some changes may have to come next year and I'll let you know, when I know…

We hope you are keeping safe. As a salutary lesson, we pulled out of our only Christmas meet up last week and then heard it had been cancelled anyway as the hosts both had caught Covid. What is worrying is that they were both double jabbed and had received the booster 2 or 3 weeks ago…" 

25 December 

What a lovely day! Spent the morning writing messages to family and friends and received messages from them, too... So many lovely kind wishes from everywhere...

Dave was in charge of the cooking today because I'm not good at roast. He started roasting the chicken and veg around midday when I was busy checking and reading the proofs sent to me by my publisher in Taipei. My book Ciao Ousmane has been translated and the translation is excellent.

Dave's Christmas dinner was absolutely delicious and we enjoyed it so much - not having had roast dinner for the whole year... I loved the parsnips and stuffing especially and asked for more... Then came the vegan Christmas pudding and mince pies, and even the the custard is vegan!

Dave enjoyed watching me open the pressies and seeing my response to each one... He also liked the coffee maker and espresso cups I got him, and especially the lounging suit, jumper and a East End history book... It was so lovely spending the day together. We managed to think about nothing but enjoying the day...

Boxing day, Vicky Park, photos by Dave

In the new year...2022

Photos by Dave, January days...

4 January 2022

We walked to Barts for Dave's appointment with his oncologist, to discuss his MRI and CT scan results. Not good news: One of his tumours in the liver has grown from 16mm to 29mm. Also a lymph node near colon has increased in size. This shows that Cetuximab has ceased to work so well. The oncologist decided to change drugs for Dave. He will be on Folfox (which includes 5FU and Oxaliplatin) and Avastin. Oxaliplatin will be for 12 cycles. Avastin has to be paid for.

10 January 

Walked with Dave to Barts for his chemo this morning - he started using new chemo drugs today. He wasn't given Avastin today but will start Avastin in the next cycle. From this chemo, he won't be taking steroids.

It seemed to have gone well. And his tumor marker this time is 6.7, which has gone down from last time.

13 January

A sunny day. We went to the town hall and got married! (See pictures above) We chose to stay low-key about this, given our circumstances. We had only two witnesses (Eammon and Michael) there and didn't invite any guest. We walked around the churchyard after the simple ceremony, and then went home and had fish and chips and some delicious non-alcoholic wine. Dave got us both a nice ring each, for the fun of it... 

14 January

After our meeting with Larry before Christmas, I've had some strange thoughts... Because he would normally send me a message or two after our meet-up, especially after Christmas. But this time he was silent. I was wondering what he was up to... 

Then I received a message from Larry's daughter Melissa today. She told me the shocking news: Larry has died two weeks ago, on the 29th of December. She said he died of a heart failure and it was sudden. He was alone in his flat. Was it frightening for him? Did he feel alone and helpless? It's unbearable to think about his last moments like this...It saddens me so much.

I thought back to the time when we met with Larry before Christmas. Although he was looking frail, he said he was feeling well and sounded hopeful for the future. He was looking forward to working again when the pandemic was over. 

On hearing his death, I wish we had visited him during the pandemic... Did he feel lonely and maybe depressed? Our illness prevented us from visiting people...and I do regret it very much.

Dave and I took a walk to the river today. I was thinking about Larry all the way - of our meetings and conversations all these years. 

I met him for the first time at a Unite meeting in the mid-2000s. He was a brilliant photographer and was working with the hotel and catering branch of the union. I was doing research with migrant workers there. We became friends and he used to come round to many dinner parties in my place in East Ham at the time. We started to work together sometimes - he was the photographer for several of my articles. I also helped him with talking to people in Chinatown for his photography project there. 

When I moved to Whitechapel, our friendship continued. I remember back in 2012 when my book Scattered Sand was published, Larry kindly organised a house party for me, to celebrate the publication. He cooked a lovely buffet dinner. He was always generous and kind to me. I wish I had done more for him.

Larry Herman's obituary

Some of Larry's work

25 January, Dave's update to family and friends:

"Greetings from St Bartholomew's Hospital (oncology suite, room 4) as I type this in the middle of chemo session number 29. I'm now on my full 'new' chemo regime which involves me having the private chemo drug Avastin on top of my new standard chemo treatment which I started two weeks ago.

As the treatment is new, the nurses are introducing it slowly, which means I'm in here for 5 or 6 hours, until they are happy about my reaction and next time they can pump the stuff into me more quickly…

So far, the side effects of my new treatment are as expected, with the only weird one being the avoidance of anything cold as it is painful to touch or drink for 5 days. Warm things are fine, but cold things physically hurt and if I drink anything too cold my throat spasms and I can't swallow, which is bloody disconcerting. I hope this isn't a bad sign, but both my oncologist and my specialist cancer nurse have left at the same time. I'm not taking it personally (unless I get some really weird side effects like growing an extra arm).

We were lucky enough to get a 4th Covid jab last week, which is the second booster dose needed by the clinically vulnerable… HH and I have been promised that if we test positive for Covid we are first in line to get the anti-viral pills which should prevent us needing hospitalisation. This sounds OK, but the only way to know if it works is if we catch Covid - which now seems increasingly likely as all restrictions and safeguards have been removed. If anything really bad happens to me, I will personally be haunting Boris Johnson.

All the best from the E1 two. Hey! That's a good pun, I must use that again."

Always saw it as a small victory when Dave's tumour marker went down...(See above: Dave sending me news from the ward - This was before they lifted restrictions and allowed me into the chemo ward)

8 February 2022, Dave's update to family and friends:

"Greetings and a belated happy lunar new year from HH and I.

I'm just having chemo session number 30.... Goodness me, that's a lot!

Whatever is in the sachets of liquid that get pumped into me over 5 hours, it's strong stuff. The Avastin infusion comes in a plastic sachet the same size as a packet of stir fry sauce (although it's a hell of a lot more expensive), but it still takes 90 minutes to be pumped in. The other main infusion is Oxaliplatin (and that contains platinum, woo hoo, I'm rich!) and this takes 2 hours. This is the chemical that causes the cold reaction and I'm now having to sit and wait for my yoghurt to get warm before I can eat it!

Apart from the cold reaction, the only other side effect I've had with the new treatment has been feeling really tired and creaky. I would prefer to have the acne I had with the previous treatment rather than feeling so washed out for a week, but this is what 'real' chemo feels like and I've been lucky to have avoided it for a year. I still believe that no longer being prescribed steroids has contributed, as they kept me feeling really perky during the past year, although I bet it's not a good idea to use them for too long…"

8 March, from Dave:

"Today, you find me doing chemo session 32 at Barts. Who would have thought that 2 weeks ago, Ukraine hadn't been invaded and things hadn't yet gone strange.

It's a lovely crisp 'nearly spring' day here and I've got a window seat for the next few hours...

My new treatment is chugging along and I have a scan in a week's time to see how the tumours are responding, so have fingers crossed. My side effects of being tired and creaky continue, so I now look at this as practice for when I'm 90... 

We are both watching the C*vid situation with a mixture of trepidation and interest. Cases are going up, but it's not a big jump, thank goodness. Our fingers remain crossed and we remain very careful, as we hope you all are…"

22 March 2022, Dave's update to family and friends:

"Greetings from Barts chemo session 33 (in bingo parlance "All the threes/dirty knee/fish, chips & peas" © Mecca Bingo).

It's definitely spring now and I've got the window seat whilst being infused with various cytotoxic chemical cocktails!

…I had a scan last week to check how I am responding to the new chemo and will get the results when I meet my new oncologist next Monday. That means fingers have to remain crossed for several days. It's been 2 months since I've seen an oncologist, which isn't very impressive, but the nurses check on me every fortnight…

We continue to watch incredulously as Covid case numbers rocket and the government appears to be cheating with the statistics, by stopping surveillance testing as well as removing any requirement for people to report self-testing results. Scientific estimates of infections are well in excess of 300,000, whilst the government claims less than a third of that. I suppose this is OK as long the infections are mild, so the critical numbers these days are hospitalisations and deaths. However, infection numbers are an indication of what could be happening in a few week's time..."

28 March, from Dave:

"We are just back home after a rather stressful afternoon at Barts. We turned up and my appointment appeared to have been cancelled, despite my specialist nurse arranging it. After a bit of a wait, they fitted me in and I eventually met my embarrassed oncologist.

Good news....

The CT scans from a couple of weeks ago showed that the new treatment has held my tumours in check and they haven't grown.

Not so good news....

Unfortunately, one of my chemo drugs, Oxaliplatin, will have to be dropped as I am starting to suffer from nerve damage and if I don't stop, I will lose feeling in my hands and feet..."

3 May 2022, Dave's update to family and friends:

"I'm just having chemo session number 36 after a bit of a delay as things are rather busy here at Barts. Things are so busy, I'm lounging in my executive chemo chair in a side room, on my own. It's a bit like going private, but the sandwiches are the same…

I had my 5th Covid jab last week (my third booster) and this time I had the Moderna jab. Give me 6 months and I will have had the full set of UK vaccines and get a free t-shirt.

The change to my treatment is certainly producing different side-effects from those in the past year. My main problem is feeling profoundly tired. After doing our daily steps, I now need a good rest and if I do anything else (e.g. some simple tidying in the garden for an hour or so) I feel as weak as a kitten and have a snooze in an armchair (like father, like son!)"

17 May 2022, from Dave:

"I'm writing this having walked home with HH from Barts following chemo 37, on a marvellous sunny, almost summer, evening. It's good to have some proper weather at last, although my Jonah effect could herald snowfall by Friday. The chemo started later than normal and there were a few delays as the ward was short of several nurses.

I continue to work through my fatigue problems, but people keep pointing out that I look well, which is very kind as I sometimes feel like I'm 95 when getting up and down from low level lounge furniture…"

14 June 2022, Dave's update to family and friends:

"Finally summer has arrived and I've just come home from chemo session 39 at Barts after a much earlier start than usual…

I had a CT scan last Saturday and will be discussing that and my tumour marker scores with my oncologist next week. That same week, I'm scheduled to have the PICC line in my arm removed and replaced with a port on my chest under my skin, so it's all go hospital-wise here!

We are still trying meet people before we go away [to Taiwan]. Last week we had a lovely meet up lunch (and historic East End stroll) with my cousins Sarah and Rachel and brother Michael. There will be other opportunities coming up and we'll be in touch! My tour-guide rates are very reasonable.....

Whilst doing the research for the walk I discovered a fascinating fact. The leader of the mutineers from the Battleship Potemkin, Afanasi Matushenko, stayed with anarchist writer and activist Rudolf Rocker in Dunstan House in Stepney Green 100 yards from where we live, back in 1905. If you want some more history like this, you'll have to come to visit. You'll see where Lenin used to have his lunch, and Stalin lodged on Jubilee Street, also round the corner from us.

Talking of "Jubilee", the East End "diamond" jubilee celebrations were pretty muted, as there aren't many monarchists in E1, although there was a large street party on Jubilee Street organised by the council…

All the very best from E1, the home of anarcho-syndicalism in London (see Rudolf Rocker, above, and Monty Python)...."

28 June, from Dave:

"How are you doing? We hope you are taking advantage of the good weather, be it gardening or ukulele playing....

I'm afraid this update is a whopper!

Treatment session 40 at Barts has been completed, christening my new 'port' which was fitted last week and starting my new, tablet and infusion based treatment (more on both of these later on). To celebrate the 40 chemo milestone, I was presented with a golden catheter which I then stuck into the new port in my chest (instead of having a small plastic tube permanently coming out of my arm and catching on the furniture).

Talking of 40th anniversaries, next week, brother Michael celebrates his 40th work anniversary at the same company! There are only 3 other people who have been there longer, and 2 of them have been locked in the basement since the 2008 banking crisis.

What now follows is mainly medical stuff, so please take some notes as I'll be asking questions later.

My recent scan results were a mixed bag. My oncologist has been off sick for some time (which doesn't bode well), but HH and I got an upgrade and saw a nice professor instead. From the scan, the radiologist's report and my raised tumour marker scores (graphs are available), it was clear my chemo treatment was not holding my liver tumours at bay. If you remember, my treatment was modified in March when its main active component was removed as I had started to lose feeling in my hands.

We discussed the next options and I agreed to go onto an new chemo regime immediately (Lonsurf, which is no relation of the washing powder, plus the Avastin I pay for already). The regime is tablets morning and evening over 2 weeks, followed by a 2 week rest period, with Avastin infusions every 2 weeks. This means I no longer need to have to take home a chemo pump full of poison, which is a bonus. However, it does mean I will now have to take an additional 10 tablets a day, so I can genuinely claim to rattle when I walk.

If this treatment doesn't work, there are various other options available, including restarting the use of the chemo that I stopped in March, since having numb hands is still better than being dead.

Last Wednesday, HH and I went to Barts at 7:30am for the fitting of my new chemo port (and the removal of the PICC line from my arm). The process was pretty involved as I had to spend an hour in the operating theatre under local anaesthetic. Highlights of the morning included having the jugular vein in my neck sliced open (a la Dracula), and during the procedure the surgeon reassuring me "it may feel like my fist is in your chest, but it's just my finger!" How we both laughed.... To be honest, it wasn't too painful, just unpleasant (as I had adopted the chicken approach of saying "yes" every time the anaesthetist asked "does that hurt?".) Ironically, the most painful part was at the end when the nurses pulled off all the sticky surgical tape which had also stuck to my body hair, thus providing me with a free chest wax along with the port.

One interesting feature of my port, became clear today when it made an audible click (like a press-stud fastener) when a needle was inserted, which was both satisfying and a little disconcerting. However, I'm now able to have a swim, bath and 4 less district nurse visits each month because the port (unlike me) is low maintenance and doesn't even require a dressing as it's under the skin on my chest, thus saving the NHS money.

The upshot of all this medical shenanigans has meant our trip to Taiwan is still going ahead, on or around the same date, as long as the new chemo works, but it does mean we'll only be there for a month or so...

I have just received my (not) sexy black surgical stockings, after being checked to ensure the blood pressure in my arms was more than that in my legs, so I don't over inflate (I think that's what the nurse said.....). Whilst being prepared, I was weighed and my height taken and I appear to have shrunk by over an inch! I was told that this is because I'm getting older (and you shrink) and my collapsed vertebra from last year. At this rate of shrinkage, HH will be taller than me in 8 years.

In further symptom news, apart from my brain fog, I've noticed that I don't feel the heat when everyone says it's too hot. At last I have a chemo effect that will be useful in Taiwan. Because of the brain fog I can't remember any new symptoms, but I'll let you know if I ever do remember them.

With my reducing height, brain fog, not feeling the heat, muscle wasted limbs, compression stockings and aches all over, my transition into a little old lady is nearly complete.... (Or do "I identify as a little old lady"?) Now where's the blanket for my knees?

In other E1 medical news, up to early this afternoon, HH was due to be having keyhole gallstone surgery next week which had been delayed for a year by C*vid. I was just going to say that the NHS got there in the end, but whilst she was waiting to pick me up from hospital today, she was called by the Royal London Hospital and told the operation had been postponed to early August and she will now have to fight to get an earlier slot if there is a cancellation. Grrrrr.

My Jonah/Jinx effect hasn't been so successful lately, although the weather is holding up nicely. I'll continue to predict snow and add that Boris will be cleared of all accusations against him…

As they used to say on Hill Street Blues in the 1980s 'Let's be careful out there.'"

13 July, Dave's update: 

"Time flies when you are having fun! Treatment session 41 at Barts was completed without too much fuss, yesterday.

2 weeks ago, it was sad to hear that Dame Deborah James, fund-raiser and campaigner, had died of bowel cancer that evening, aged 40. She was diagnosed in 2016, so I hope to continue my cancer fight for many years like she did, although adopting the nickname "Bowel Bloke", dressing in a poo costume and doing a podcast is unlikely (although dressing as a podcast and doing a poo is definitely possible....)

I have settled into my new chemo regime, and haven't had any major side effects, not even rattling with all the pills inside me. I am now on my monthly 2 week "rest period" and waiting for my tumour marker scores to see if the new treatment is working, so please cross fingers.

This all means it's still "all systems go" for the trip to Taiwan, as long as the new chemo is shown to be working and my oncology team say it's OK. I'm lining up the continuation of my treatment at a hospital in Taipei so everything should be seamless (like my surgical stockings)…

Last week HH and I had a lovely light lunch and a Thames stroll with our friends Mick and Sharon and their lovely dog Apollo, who is an absolute darling (just like Mick and Sharon).

Well, that's all for now folks!

I'll leave you with a fascinating fact from Smithfields, which is next to Barts Hospital in London. It popped up on YouTube yesterday and no, I don't know how the algorithms work, but it must have guessed I'd be interested.

Smithfields was the main spot where the executions used to happen (being next door to the Old Bailey and Newgate Prison). It's the spot where lots of martyrs were burned at the stake and William Wallace (Braveheart) was hung drawn and quartered (and there's a plaque outside Barts to that effect). In 1532, Henry the Eighth sentenced Richard Roose, a cook, to an unusual method of execution, he was boiled to death in a giant cauldron.

There, you learn something new every day.

Don't get boiled in the sun!"

Dave's photos in August:

September 2022

A short, long-awaited family visit, delayed by the pandemic. It was so lovely to stay with my parents in Taipei... 

17 September 

It's Dave's 59th birthday! We had a lovely walk along the river in the morning. Then a Japanese feast was organised by my family (my parents, brother, sister and sister-in-law) for Dave's birthday celebration. We presented the beautiful cake made by the local bakery (see video below). My two nephews enjoyed presenting their cards to Uncle David! 

Birthday boy coming down the stairs! (see video)

Then in late September, we had a beautiful few days in sunny Kenting in the south of the island, where we celebrated my parents' birthdays...

The last few days in Taipei...

Autumn, back in London...

10 November

Two years after Dave's diagnosis, there are fewer and fewer treatment options remaining... 

Dave received a call from Prof. Gerlinger during our walk. The blood test results that we've waited for two weeks have come back. Devastating news. The test showed that he has various tumour DNA mutations (KRAS and MRAS) which have developed in the past two years. (The cancer cells with these mutations are resistant to chemo treatments).

This means that Dave can't start using the planned targeted therapy Panitumumab, but has to resort to using a less good option which will give him various strong side effects such as neuropathy...

It feels like fate is just going to swallow us up...regardless how hard we fight... We came home and talked some more. Then I cooked wholegrain pasta with aubergine and onions in tomato sauce. We carry on doing the normal things, eating, doing the dishes and sorting things out... We have no intention of giving up.  

14 November

We went to consultation with Prof Gerlinger this afternoon, to discuss Dave's treatment options. The forthcoming treatment will be a 21-cycle chemo of both Capox and Avastin. The infusion of Capox and Avastin will be followed by Oxaliplatin tablets for two weeks and then a week's break. How do we handle the side effects? The doctor had little clue but said cold gloves might work when we mentioned the idea to him...

16 November

We walked over to the Museum of London today - It's going to relocate in two weeks' time. It will be moved to the site of Smithfield Market and re-open in 2026. Dave said that it could be his last time to see the museum. We spent a couple of hours in there. Dave got a painting of city of London as a souvenir.

Sadness fills my day everyday. These visits to places don't make it less sad but more real that Dave might not be with me for a very long time...

This afternoon, Dave insisted on getting a winter coat and a pair of shoes for me. We went into M&S for the shopping.

22 November

Walked over to Fleet Street on our daily stroll. Stumbled across an area where all the barristers and lawyers are located. From there, it was five minutes' walk to the river. The sun was out and it was beautiful and soothing... I tried to get my daily vitamin D from the late autumn sunshine! The song Waterloo Sunset came to mind as we watched the boats... Nice little gulls came by, making lots of noises...It was funny to be able to focus my camera on two of them for more than a couple of minutes before they flew away... Dave enjoyed this walk a great deal.  

25 November

We've been doing "morning sessions" every day - we have our coffee and talk about how Dave feels (and how we both feel)... It's been useful for him to discuss his emotions and also good for me to think about how to cope better... Some of Dave's friends wondered about his optimism and his downplaying of his realistic situation... Through these conversations, I knew that Dave wasn't in denial about the prospects of his illness, but was simply dealing with it in his own way... He calls it "shock and freeze" where he becomes numb to what's happening...because he feels he has had little control over the illness. This is why he doesn't appear terribly upset to the outside world and doesn't seem to be in a panic state... It might puzzle his friends and family sometimes, but it is his own way of coping. The important thing is that he is fighting on, and not giving up. He lives with the hope that things could still improve...

We went for a long walk in the afternoon, all the way to Russell Square. Visited London Review Bookshop.

1 December 

Went to Barts with Dave in the morning for his whole day of chemo. Oxaliplatin/Capeox with Avastin. This is the first time in more than a month, and each fusion took about two hours, plus time to flush it.. By 3pm he just started Avastin.

The cold gloves and socks were painful to wear. So bad that Dave had to take off the gloves for a while... Never saw him suffer so much from the chemo. The gloves gradually warmed up over two hours. Dave said he will get used to them in the end...

The CEA isn't good - 107 this time, double of the last CEA. Very worrying, but in front of him I didn't show my panic...

We were sitting by the window all day. Looked dry out there. Some blueness in the sky...but I feel so depressed.

February 

In the past two weeks, Dave's oncologist has changed the chemo regime and stopped using the tablets that caused Palmar-Plantar syndrome. The results have been encouraging and he has had no side effects so far. We have resumed taking long walks - twelve miles on Sunday... 

9 February, Dave's update to family and friends:

"Chemo 51 has just been completed after 2 weeks on my new chemo regime with no bad side effects! My feet and hands are recovering well, but one rather sad side effect remains, my feet smell terrible! Checking with my oncologist, it's all because of the skin falling off in the past month and new flesh growing. Well, that's my excuse and I'm sticking to it!

My tumour marker score is still high, but is gradually creeping down after a small jump during my two week enforced 'treatment free' rest, which is a good sign.

As part of my recovery, HH and I had a rather interesting day last Sunday, when we accidentally walked 12 miles. We were going to travel to Lancaster Gate (from where we live in the East) to visit a friend. Since it is only 15 minutes on the Elizabeth Line, we were going to use the train, but the line was not working, so we planned to walk some of the way (2 miles or so), and take the tube for a few stops, for the rest of the journey.

We set out and were ahead of schedule when we got to the station we planned to use to join the underground, so decided to carry on walking and join at the next station.... This continued until we got to Marble Arch and realised we were practically there! HH bought us a lovely Persian lunch, and we strolled around and still felt fit enough to walk home, too…"

23 February

What happened to Mohamed, a Deliveroo driver, made my blood boil...

3 March

Dave and I walked up to Altab Ali Park, where trade unionists and activists gathered for the rally in support of Mohamad, the delivery rider who fell ill during work and was mistreated. He's still in critical care in hospital. Jeremy Corbyn made a speech.

March

Dave's chemo takes place every two weeks. In between his chemo sessions and other hospital appointments, we try to live life as normally as we possibly can. We spend time taking many long walks, visiting old and new places, enjoying exhibitions and special tours, rediscovering London... On top of this, we're planning travels in the summer. Living every day as an important day!

We went with our friend Les for a day out to Margate. This is Dave's review of the gallery there: "The Turner Contemporary Gallery was interesting (and built on the site of the boarding house at which turner stayed when he was gallivanting between London and Margate). However, it does not contain a single piece of Turner artwork... Maybe they sold any Turner pictures they had to afford building the gallery in the first place.... They did have an Antony Gormley man standing in the sea outside, though.... A twin one standing in the Thames in Wapping, near where we, and Turner live/lived." 

19 March

Dave shared this article with me: Chew slowly, keep moving, eat 30 plants a week. 

'We are not doing too bad," he said to me. 

April

Last week, just as we thought things were becoming more stable and we had started looking forward to some time away, Dave began to experience more chemo side effects, leading to colitis. As the the effects of the inflammation became uncontrollable, doctors decided that Dave should stay in Barts for a while, until they found the root cause of the problem. His chemo scheduled for this week was postponed. For the whole week, Dave has been prescribed a stream of meds and electrolyte infusions, and has been looked after so well by the nursing team...

A different doctor visited. She said all blood tests results are OK and negative. CT shows "no big issue." The colon inflammation isn't severe. So they are puzzled what the real cause is. It doesn't have to be chemo. To find out, they'll give him colonoscopy and other tests.

Dave was his usual humorous self and asked the nursing staff about the different colours of their uniform. What does the dark green uniform tell you about their role here? One of the nurses replied, "Slave." He went on to say how terrible he has been treated in his job. He said the doctors "lack interpersonal skills despite their career achievements"...

I brought two croissants to cheer Dave up. He also has his standard NHS lunch with dessert. Today's dessert was raspberry which he liked.

In the afternoon, we took a stroll in the hospital garden again. The sunshine was beautiful and we stood there letting it touch our faces...

Although I don't say it to Dave, I feel so sad, so depressed, every day. How I wish the situation were different and Dave were well and enjoying the day somewhere else... But Dave is so optimistic and rarely says a word about the misery he's in. He is still hoping and looking forward to getting better. However, I fear that things won't get much better from here... I fear deeply. I'm keeping that fear to myself.

Better news when I arrived at Barts this morning: Dave had no diarrhea overnight and slept well. His temperature was back to normal, 36.8. This is the result of yesterday's Occrotide, anti-diarrhea injection. He had Occrotide non-stop, on a drip. He will continue with it today.

We had lunch together by his bed. Dave didn't eat much of the hospital food, but enjoyed the croissant I got him...He was feeling better and talking much more today. In the afternoon we had our routine coffee - flat white with almond milk was Dave's favourite right now...

My depression always sets in when I am about to leave the hospital at night... Dave was enjoying watching the Sicilian series Mafia only Kills in Summer on his tablet and he laughed a lot with it today... We had to stop half way because visiting hours have ended. I kissed him goodnight.

The walk home from the hospital after visiting hours was the start of my feelings of depression and hopelessness every night...Watching Dave in such a shape, so frail and thin, day in, day out, is the saddest thing for me...It is killing me inside. Couldn't help crying every evening when I walked home. I'm feeling so angry. I'm fearing so much for him. There's no one around. I know I am alone. 

And for Dave, alone in his side room, the indignities of Colitis felt like "yet another kick in the teeth" as he put it...

6 April

Got up early again and went to Barts to be with Dave. He got himself ready for the colonoscopy. It was supposed to be around midday. But we were kept waiting till after 1pm. Finally the patient transport staff and a nurse turned up, and took Dave to RLH.

Over there, Dave was given enema, a very unpleasant procedure before the colonoscopy. Then he was put to sleep for two hours. By the time he came back to Barts, he was still sleepy. Dinner was brought to him but he didn't have much appetite and just had a few spoonful of the sweet and sour chicken with rice. He finished dessert in no time though...

Nurses have been so nice and working hard with Dave. They are brilliant. 

13 April

Dave continued to feel tired and had no appetite today. Barely had anything to eat at lunch - had a few small vegan sausages with spaghetti. Then he called the Barts hotline and reported his symptoms: fatigue, no energy, etc. They probably didn't think it was very serious and hadn't got back to him all day.

I walked to Stepney Green to collect meds for Dave from the pharmacy this afternoon. Then food shopping. Feeling very low... Worried about Dave, and the future weeks we have ahead of us. 

17 April

Some positive news at last. Went to Barts with Dave for the consultation with Dr Pihlat, an oncologist in the team. She reported that the scan results show that liver is stable at the moment (no tumour growth). 

Dave's colonoscopy results show that there's mild Colitis. Doctors don't fully know what has caused the problem in the past few weeks. But they think it might be bacterial imbalance/overgrowth. Needing to introduce good bacteria to fight off the bad. She suggested intake of pro-bio drinks (good bacteria). And she prescribed antibiotics. She also said steroids should be taken for a longer time after chemo. 

Chemo is OK to go ahead. She also said it is fine to take trips like Valencia. She said that doctors encourage people to have holidays because these improve quality of life. Glad to be on the right track! 

We're very pleased with the meeting. On the way back from our walk, Dave had a chocolate milkshake, first one since the Taiwan trip last year. He really enjoyed it...

Late April

Dave's been feeling better this week, with the help of ample steroids. And spring is arriving, at long last...

4 May 

Dave's message to family & friends:

I've just completed Chemo 56 in a record time of 5 hours, after everything went well on the ward with no delays.

It looks like I will have to forego the coronation ceremony on Saturday as I'll be waiting in Barts to have my chemo pump disconnected. However, I may be in the ideal spot to see the fly-past though the ward windows on the 7th floor. As an added bonus, at least the government has confirmed (only with a week to go, mind you) that people can protest about the monarchy (and the £250 million cost of the coronation) without facing arrest......

Whilst my treatment was starting today, HH had a consultation at the Royal London Hospital, to discuss an MRI scan of her pelvis and then she joined me at Barts to finish my treatment. At her consultation, she was told her results were normal, which was a relief. She has been put on the waiting list for a partial hysterectomy.

In other news, my colitis appears to have resolved itself, despite it still not being clear exactly what caused it. The antibiotics I have been taking did not turn my wee red after all and after the "poo hell" of Easter, my digestive system has now behaved impeccably since then, which is annoying as we now have to monitor everything that happens in case it indicates the start of a problem.

My dietician confirmed that HH and my diets are ideal, and over the past 2 weeks, to counteract the weight loss caused by the colitis, I have been bulking up, and boosting my carb and protein intake. My target was to add 0.5 kg a week, which I have exceeded easily and I have also been training in the gym to add some more strength to my arms and legs, which were getting rather boney, precluding the wearing of shorts outside for fear of generating many laughs at my expense. For older readers, it can be said that at certain angles, when wearing my gym kit, I look rather like Max Wall doing his "funny walk." (Note: I have now watched the Max Wall funny walk on YouTube and it wasn't that funny.... Times were simpler in those days....) Now that I am back to "normal" weight, my diet has reverted back to normal (so no more cheesecake for me!).

Unfortunately, my tumour marker score has gone up again, so this needs to be looked at by my oncology team and we hope it won't involve yet another change in medication (although upping doses is OK). The score may fall of its own accord when I revert to a more normal diet, but I am due a scan, so this should indicate what is happening. The oncology team are not overly concerned yet.

HH and my trip to Valencia with our friend Les is "all systems go" for next week and we are really looking forward to some sun and exploring somewhere that isn't London. Global warming has made sure the temperatures in Spain could be "interesting" (as in record-breaking), but I think we can take it.

In the meantime, last week we met up with my friends David and Andy. Andy had come down from Lancashire for a few days and David still works in London. Purely by chance, we ate in a restaurant that used to be David and his work-mates' pub when he worked at Barts 20 years ago! It's certainly a lot more salubrious as an Italian restaurant now!

Last Sunday, we met up with HH's friends John and Olga in west London and walked across Hyde Park on a lovely spring day.

6 May

This is an important day for some Brits, King Charles' coronation. As we got up and had our morning coffee, Dave switched on TV and started watching the ceremony. Strange spectacle... For one thing, Charles looked grumpy - as if the heavy gown and hat were weighing him down...

This show has cost the Brits over £100 million, but not many seem to be complaining...

When we walked over to Barts for Dave to have his pump disconnected, a few people were outside taking photos of the air show. Dave did, too - for the love of airplanes. We got some coffee from the canteen downstairs and then had coffee in the light rain when Dave took pictures... Strange kind of fun.

May

We had such a great time in Valencia, enjoying long walks and exploring the city's contrasts of old and new...Sadly and shockingly, on our fourth day there, Les suddenly had a sore throat and then tested positive for Covid, which meant we had to part company. Due to Dave being clinically vulnerable, there was no way we could continue to safely stay in the same apartment with Les. We spent the last two days of the holiday on our own while Les was recovering...

Despite the panic, we were fortunate enough not to have caught the virus. We have tested negative for four days so far. This felt lucky because we had spent four full days in close contact with Les in Valencia. "Lucky" may be the wrong word here, because there are good reasons why we remain Covid-free: we have had seven Covid jabs so far and have been so strict with Covid prevention in the past three years... As Dave's oncologist said, he thought we're among the few who haven't caught it in the country.

Despite the Covid incident, we want to remember the sunshine and good times in Valencia... 

15 May

We met with Dave's oncologist Dr Gerlinger to discuss progress. He told us that Dave's tumour marker score indicates that the current treatment isn't effective anymore. Dave will have his last round of the current chemo this Thursday. He will then begin a new regime in mid-June. We fear that his drug options could be running out...

Went with Dave to Barts for his final round of the current chemo. 57th session. No more infusion after this. It was delayed for two hours because of the pharmacy. We didn't leave hospital till early evening.

The shortage of staff was severe. A nurse told me that four nurses are doing the jobs of nine. It clearly affected their morale. We're watching the NHS collapsing around us...

Dave's tumour marker score went up again, from 125 to 193 this time. Clearly the drugs have ceased to work. 

19 May

We know that Dave is gradually running out of drug options. We have asked his oncologist Dr Gerlinger again and again to put him on any possible clinical trials. So far, he said there isn't any suitable ones available. 

We went to an International Clinical Trials Day event this morning. It's organised by Barts Cancer Institute. We were the only patients. Everyone else was a doctor/healthcare professional. The talks were interesting. One of the speakers was an oncologist we know in the team. Dr Pihlat. We were looking for any information on clinical trials... But so far, more theory than practice.

We are still hoping to see suitable trial for Dave in the near future... Hopefully Dr Gerlinger will look out for us. We're not giving up.

This afternoon we received a box of face masks sent by my sister Hsiaolan.  

June

Before Dave had to start the new chemo treatment in mid-June, I organised a trip to Norway. At this point, we were not aware how long Dave was able to live. Given his limited drug options, I was fearing that he might not be able to make it to Christmas.      I wanted him to live every day as fully as he could and travel as much as he was able. I wanted us to have a good time together in Norway. (Also, I thought I could meet with a couple of people for my book research.)

We had a beautiful time in Oslo. Enjoyed the long walks and long hours of daylight. There were new discoveries every day. The most impressive on our first day, on the 2nd of June, was the Munch Museum, a fantastic structure and beautiful interior. Enjoyed Edvard Munch's works. Then we went up to the sky bar and enjoyed the view of the harbour from above, with cold ginger beers in our hands... Then I insisted on taking Dave to a delicious lunch downstairs in the same building. Dave enjoyed his mussels very much, and then dessert. We chatted about our travel plans this week, and for a short while, completely put aside our reality back in England. So glad that we were able to have these happy moments together...

We took a long walk along the harbour area, in the warm sun. Felt so good. There were so many saunas along the way. Norwegians know how to enjoy themselves... 

Woke up to another beautiful morning in Oslo the next day. We got ourselves delicious cinnamon buns and coffee as we walked down to the harbour again. Ran into a charity-run festival and stayed listening to the music whilst enjoying our cinnamon buns... What a nice start of the day.

We walked to the Museum of Cultural History several miles away. It took us more than an hour to get there. It was a huge space containing medieval and 19th-century farming villages of wooden houses, waiting rooms for stations, shops, and a stunning stave church which took us some time to find... It was a truly amazing wooden Christian church built in the 16th century. Beautiful carvings on pillars...

Then we walked to the Fram museum, which Dave happily found out that it was the Norwegian ship that reached the South Pole in 1912, same time as Titanic (beating their British counterparts).

Over twelve miles in all on this day. Dave preferred some comforting Italian food for dinner. So we went to a nearby Vino al vino which had delicious seafood risotto. Over dinner, Dave said to me, "I think I could live here." It was the first time he said so about any place we visited. "Me too," I said. We were both surprised how much we like it here and find it so truly relaxing and lovely.

Then we had another beautiful day, strolling around Vigeland's Park, a sculpture park filled with one man's works - Gustavo Vigeland, sculptor and creator of the Nobel prize medal. We spent the rest of the day strolling in the sun, with coffee in our hands, like we were young and carefree... Then we walked down to the harbour and watched the boats. The sun at 8pm was as strong as it was at 3pm.

I wish time could freeze and we won't ever have to return to darkness...

On the 6th of June, we boarded the Bergensbanen railway, to head to Bergen, the second largest city in Norway. The line is the highest railway line in Northern Europe. It was a 6.5-hour journey, crossing the Hardangervidda National Park and running over numerous highlands, then onto Hardangervidda, Europe's largest high mountain plateau. The peak was 1,222 meters above sea level, at Finse train station. 

Bergen is surrounded by beautiful fjords. As time was limited, we went on just one boat trip, to Mostraumen fjord, the longest one of all. We also loved the woods, the mountain views, and the tranquil public spaces in the neighbourhoods where people gathered and picnicked at weekends... We really enjoyed the laid-back vibe of the place and felt at home there.

On the 12th of June, after arriving back from our trip to Norway the previous evening, Dave and I went to Barts for him to start his new treatment. Dave is now on a three-week cycle of a targeted chemo tablets with a week's rest after three weeks. All the other liquid treatments and infusions have been dropped.

Dave's CT scan from the end of May was reviewed and that confirmed what we already knew, that Dave definitely needed to start a new treatment since his liver tumours were growing. The largest had grown to 9cm. Sadly, the scan showed Dave also had a metastasis in his lungs, and the largest tumour was 5mm that had spread from his liver. Dave's professor oncologist said that this was common and they'll keep an eye on it.

Adding to the impact of the bad news, we had to endure a three-hour wait at the hospital pharmacy, to pick up the chemo prescription. The staff simply said (and repeated) that "all the computers had stopped working." Computer says no, as the British joke goes. But this was not funny for the cancer patients waiting for hours. 

Over the coming months, Dave will eventually run out of the normal NHS treatments for his cancer, when they cease to be effective against his mutating cancer, so we need to find clinical trials onto which he needs to be assigned. We can also try repeating combinations of failed therapies in the hope that they may trigger a response again, or find alternative treatments, for example with Dave's Oncology Team in Taiwan.  

Late June

Dave shared an article on walking and yoga with me, to reaffirm that our habit of taking long walks is definitely a good thing. We carry on with this every day.

Jabed came to see us in London on 21 June. He was a 17-year-old kid when we first met him in Lampedusa in summer 2016. My first memory of Jabed was him walking around in bare feet. "They haven't given us shoes," he said to me. He came from a village in Bangladesh and vowed to change life for his family when he left home with two close friends in 2015. They survived the horrendous forced labour in Libya and then the treacherous sea journey on a small boat where they ran out of fresh water on second day and were rescued two days later... Eventually, they were sent to Lampedusa, an island of which name they'd never heard. Since then, they survived the appalling conditions inside the camp in Lampedusa and then the prison-like existence in another camp in southern Sicily. Jabed and his friends decided to do what many others did and ran away from the camp. They arranged to be smuggled out of Italy and into France, where they claimed protection as minors... 

Jabed ended up in a children's centre in Metz in western France. It was a long, difficult process, where he was interviewed ("interrogated" would be a better word) over and over again... They intimidated him. They asked him to tell them "what he'd been involved in"... Fortunately, in the end Jabed won a place in the children's centre. He worked hard at jobs that paid him less than half of the local wage, for years. He was finally granted permanent residency five years later and now able to travel. I'm amazed to see how well he's doing now, working as a sushi chef in Paris... 

Jabed was heartbroken to hear about Dave's late stage cancer. He burst into tears and couldn't help being upset for the whole afternoon... Back in Lampedusa in 2016, we said to him that we will revisit the island with him one day. That one day may never come, as he knew now. He said he will keep praying for Dave, and asked his family to do the same for him.

Dave has had some side effects from the new chemo drug: night sweats, sore hand and feet with blisters, sore mouth, and increased fatigue (needing to take naps in the daytime sometimes). We are not able to travel far at the moment because of Dave's conditions. But we are keeping our diary busy as always, not letting the illness defeat us... We meet with friends and family, take part in events (as long as it's Covid-safe) and carry on doing what we love doing. In early July, we went to see the newly-opened Young V&A which used to be the Bethnal Green Museum of Childhood... Dave enjoyed looking at the old toys there... 

We realised that we're in need of more support as Dave reaches a much more difficult stage of the illness. We need all the help we can get. So we went back to Maggie's at Barts and gave it a second try - this time, Dave joined the Living with Cancer support group and met with a small group of people in similar situations, along with a therapist who guided the sessions... They talked and shared thoughts and experiences, and Dave has found it useful. 

28 June

Four new blisters appeared on Dave's right foot today. It was painful and he had to take painkillers... He looked in pain all the time, which was terribly depressing and saddening to see... This is one of the side effects. But obviously we don't want the chemo drugs to stop.

The nurse told Dave today that the chemo drugs haven't brought down the tumour marker score, which is very worrying. Does this mean it's not effective? We have no other drugs left...

5 July 2023 marks 75 years of the NHS. This is while nurses aren't getting fair pay and doctors believe that ministers want to destroy the national health service. At Barts, many nurses told me how over-worked they are, due to many of their colleagues leaving the job, because of low pay and over-working. 

For the entire August, Dave was trying his hardest fighting against this evil cancer since all chemo drugs were stopped by his oncologist and he was discharged from Barts' oncology department. His conditions got worse by the day. The disease was causing him a lot of swelling and pain. His ascites caused a bacterial infection in his abdomen. He was back in hospital on the 28th of August. His conditions declined fast during the twelve days in hospital, when he became weaker and more and more confused. I began to feel that I was watching him dying…

30 August

Spending another day with Dave on the 13th floor of RLH. Following his Ultrasound, they started to drain water out of him. It lasted the whole afternoon and finished around 7pm.

All throughout the day, Dave was no longer talking like himself. He misunderstood people and often misinterpreted nurses and doctors who came to see him.. He made fun of a few. He stared at the ceiling. He whispered words that didn't make sense and jointed up words people have said...

One thing he kept saying to me throughout the day was that he loves me. "I love you so much." "I love you with all my heart." "It's going to be sorted out, it's going to be alright, I promise you." I held back my tears so many times. He asked me to hold his hands. We held each other's hands for hours...Many times he fell asleep.

I felt that I'm losing him. I'm so, so scared. Couldn't take the immense sadness.

In the ward, in the following days, I was told by doctors and palliative nurses that it could be a matter of days before Dave's organs failed him. I was advised to prepare myself for the inevitable. Dave was suffering so much. He couldn't get himself out of bed. He asked me to lift him up from the bed every time he needed to use the toilet. It hurt me so, so much to see him struggle like this... "Please God help me. Please help us," he said with such desperation in his voice. It made me cry inside every time. I felt just as abandoned as he did.

I knew that Dave wanted to spend the remaining of his time in his own house, and I fought hard for the team to speed up processing the care package and get him home. Finally, Dave got back home late night on the 8th of September, after hours and hours of waiting for the ambulance to be organised to take us home. 

The morning when Dave woke up in his own bedroom, he said to me, "The room is so lovely." That was the first positive thing he said in weeks… Although he was more calm at home, he wasn't going to get any better. 

9 September

I sat by Dave talking to him most of the day. Before giving him the last morphine pill at night, I said to him that I love him very much, always... 

"Me too," he replied. "Let's go together." Did he mean heaven? Or traveling together like we used to? 

I kissed him again and again before saying good-night.

10 September

In the early evening, Dave suddenly felt running out of breath. Ambulance was called and they checked him and said his breathing was normal. They said he's feeling anxious and agitated because his conditions are getting worse... The medics called Royal London Hospital and checked with the team. The solution was giving him midazolam and liquid morphine. 

During the discussion with the medics, Dave kept calling my name. Then he fell asleep  soon after the drugs were given to him. 

13 September

I sat by Dave's bed every day. I tried to talk to him and give him something to eat and drink, even it was just a couple of protein shakes and half an orange and some grapes. He couldn't manage much more. This afternoon, Dave woke up from his deep sleep when I was playing some of our favourite music by his bedside. The music that we used to listen to a lot when we first met. He opened his eyes! I helped him to sit up. I kept talking to him and he mumbled words back, but I didn't understand.

"Would you like some raspberries?" I held up the box of his favourite fruit. He nodded instantly and so he had lots of raspberries, and an orange and some houmous. We had lots of cuddles and kisses. I massaged his back, which he really enjoyed. He leaned on me, kissing my cheek as I carried on with the massage… Then more cuddles. In retrospect, I'm so glad that we had those beautiful moments together...

15 September

I went to the GP to sort out Dave's death certificate. After that, I took all his meds back to the pharmacy. Then I felt I had to take a walk to St Dunstan's, for old times' sake. Two autumns ago, Dave and I were strolling here at St Dunstan's... We still had hope then. Those days felt like a century ago. Back then, we had prayed for recovery... On this walk after his passing, I pretended that Dave was still there next to me. I spoke to him about the things we used to see and the streets we used to walk… Maybe Dave will be with me for a while, before he goes to heaven – if there is a heaven.

I decided not to sleep at Dave's house at Coopers for another night. The memories of his passing on Thursday night were too fresh and painful… So I walked back to the flat where we recently stayed near Barts. I went past all the familiar places. I spoke to Dave again along the way. I took the sunset pictures like he used to...

Back in the flat, I started sorting Dave's belongings, clothing, and every object that represents memories of our times together… His camera, books, boxes of meds, his walking stick (which he started to use when he could no longer walk properly from a month ago), his cancer record notebooks… My heart broke each time I looked at them; it never stops breaking.

17 September

It's Dave's birthday today. I had booked tickets for the exhibition "capturing the moment" at Tate Modern for him. It would have been an enjoyable experience for him. I walked across the Millennium Bridge to Tate in the morning. Dave always liked this walk…I talked to him, saying "happy birthday" to him... After the exhibition, I went up to the viewing platform on the 10th floor. It was windy but I took a few pictures, like Dave would have done. Sat down for a coffee and a carrot cake, like we did before.

I was going to take him to a birthday lunch up in the Sky Garden, knowing how much he liked photographing the city from tall buildings... As part of his birthday presents, I was also going to take him to Rotterdam for two days. He loved wandering around continental cities. Our last adventure was in Oslo. He was still remembering it a month before his passing... 

Time has lost its meaning without Dave. "Please spend some time with me before you go to heaven, if you're going," I said to him. Sometimes in the past two days I felt he was with me. More and more I feel I'm lingering like a ghost (more so than he is)...having no aim or purpose in this world...

                from the viewing platform of Tate Modern, on Dave's birthday (would have been his 60th)

14 October 

It's been 30 days since Dave passed away.

I'm living every day like Dave is still with me. I take walks to places we used to walk to. I whisper to him for the little advice I need, like I did before... And I still wake up saying "morning" to him - or to his T-shirt that he left on the bed on the day we went to the hospital on the 28th of August. 

The past 30 days were filled with unpredictable ups and downs... On a few days, I was able to feel at peace and simply remember the good times (as everyone kindly tells me to do). But most days, especially most nights, were filled with sadness, regrets, a lot of anger, and complete emptiness. 

Family and friends have been kind, sending messages of encouragement and support. I also tried to "feel better" by meeting a couple of close friends. One of them reassured me that the funeral service went well and Dave was loved by family and friends, which was comforting to hear... She brought me the non-alcoholic wine that she and her partner prepared for Dave's birthday... On another occasion I went out for a ten-mile walk with another friend and had to have a good cry when I got home... I carried on talking to Dave on all these occasions.

I'm making today, the 14th, a special Dave's Day. I packed more of his belongings to take to his house at Coopers. There, I tidied up the lounge, and threw away the old flowers in the jug - still don't know who sent these flowers but they were beautiful when they arrived at the door three weeks ago. I cleaned the floor. Then I sat down in the lounge and said to Dave how much I'm loving him and missing him... I promised him that I will be coming to live in this house in a few weeks' time when I've moved all his stuff back here. 

Then I walked up to Commercial Street where the Van Gogh exhibition is. I wanted to remember Dave this way, because this is something that he would have enjoyed very much. It is an immersive experience that incorporates 200 of Van Gogh's works in the most beautiful way... It displays his styles and methods and reveals his propensity to study and paint a subject over and over again... His emotional and artistic intensity is really moving... 

I think Dave enjoyed the exhibition, too. This has been a really special day...

I will not be "moving on" from Dave. Instead, I will continue living the life we did and take pleasure in doing the things we loved doing together. I want to move forward with Dave. He will always be there with me and be the main source of my strength... I know that because I'm feeling that strength every single day.

"It is good to love many things, for therein lies the true strength, and whosoever loves much performs much, and can accomplish much, and what is done in love is well done" 

- Vincent Van Gogh

                                                          Dave's "teddy photo diary", 2015, when we were parted for a week

14 November

Today is Dave's Day.

It's been two months since Dave passed away. This is the longest we've ever been (physically) parted. I remember back in 2015 when we first parted for just one week (when I visited family in Taipei), Dave was feeling very low. In the most endearing way, he sent me a photo diary of my teddy (to show me how he spent his day)... He then joined me in my second week in Taipei.

Now I look at our photos and films every day and think how our lives could have been different...

I'm moving back to Coopers slowly... The sight of the main bedroom never fails to bring back painful memories - particularly memories of how Dave was in the last week of his life. He was actively dying, in front of my eyes... We were alone in our own universe. At his bedside, I listened to his sounds of despair every single day - and at night, too. There was no longer any hope, and no more future, for him - and for me, too...

And what made it even more painful for me in the last week of Dave's life was that I could no longer share my thoughts and fears with him - he was not always awake, and when he was awake, he was mostly confused. In those last few days, Dave was ready to leave. I watched him disappearing into another world and there was nothing I could do.

Now I spend a lot of time tidying up Dave's bedroom at Coopers. I'm keeping many of his clothes - those shirts, jumpers and jackets that he particularly liked. I'm keeping his wardrobe and drawers for him. The house is filled with vivid memories of our times together...and I'm keeping it that way.

It's getting much colder and the heating hasn't worked properly at Coopers. I continue to stay in the flat for a bit longer. Every night I fall asleep feeling that familiar pain in my heart. Some nights I become uncontrollably sad... I'm woken up a lot during the night and rarely sleep through.

Every morning I wake up feeling angry. Angry with myself for not able to see it coming - and not able to detect Dave's illness early. Angry with the NHS for not providing people with regular screening until it's too late. Angry with those oncologists who treated Dave like a number. Angry with those who abandon Dave in the past three years when he was most in need of support. Angry with those who play the game of marginalisation and make me feel so alone. Anger has overtaken sadness sometimes, so much that I fantasise about revenge.

In the daytime I carry on living as if I were normal and OK. Recently I met with Sharon, one of Dave's old friends, and had a lovely chat. I also met with a few friends whom I haven't seen for a long while and spent nice afternoons with them. I went to see Ken Loach's Old Oak and felt so emotional... I dragged myself out to a book launch, in a room full of people (yes, people!). I took many long walks, one of them to Marble Arch where I took part briefly in a demo. Over ten miles there and back. And I study Italian two hours a week - this was something that both of us had wanted to do properly. I talked to Dave during my daily activities, as if I was talking to myself.

I have a good chat with my sister Hsiaolan every day which helps a lot. She has been worried about my situation and made it a habit to call me daily. Cousin Sarah and auntie Jean often write kind and supportive messages to me and I really appreciate it. One Saturday Michael offered me the much-needed help: we sorted through some boxes which were left at his garage. He will transport them back to Coopers, too.

A few friends Dave and I knew in Sicily often send messages of support to me. They reminded me of the time we had back in those days... Dave's absence has changed everything in my relationship with these friends. Sometimes, there's little motivation for me to pick up their calls...

Sometimes, a random letter from somewhere makes me sad and depressed. A council letter confirming names of occupants, for instance. I had to tick the box "deceased" next to Dave's name. It doesn't feel right to describe him like that. Dave's more alive than a lot of people out there, I can say that for sure!

This morning, I walked from Coopers through the familiar streets all the way to Tate Modern. The same route we always walked on our way to Barts. It started to rain when I nearly got to the Millennium Bridge. I knew Dave would have enjoyed the walk anyway. At Tate, I'm spending Dave's Day at an African photography exhibition, 'A World in Common.' He would have loved seeing this. The works include Khadija Saye, Gambian-British photographer who tragically died in the Grenfell Tower fire. (Her work also inspired British artist Chris Ofili, who has an exhibition at Tate Britain at the moment.)

One of the outstanding themes in 'A World in Common' today is the legacy of colonialism. A large installations, 'A history of a city in a box' (2019) by Ndidi Dike, stands out (See picture below). Her installation brings together hundreds of discarded file boxes designed to conceal information. She fills them with archival documents, including colonial-era postcards and photographs, and surround them with sand and soil... "Information is hidden and buried..it is inaccessible to the people, and only permitted to those in power. This is really a holdover from the colonial era...Information is the foundation on which cities are built...it's the way they operate, how power is generated, how inequality prevails."

I find the Water Life series (2018) by Aida Muluneh stunning. (See picture below.) Muluneh was born and works in Ethiopia. She explores rural water access and its impact on women's rights, well-being and education. With the rise of extreme weather conditions caused by climate change, the issue of access to clean water cannot be more important...

I like the way the exhibition is concluded, with a quote from Afrotopia (2016) by Senegalese writer Felwine Sarr, who calls for Africans to think and formulate their own future.  "Africa has always been the object of discourse by others. Now is the time to dream this utopia in Africa itself, to design Africa ourselves, to think, and to act for ourselves."

I believe Dave thoroughly enjoyed the day, despite the rain... Loving you and missing you so much, my dearest...

                                                         'A World in Common': African photography, Tate Modern

Many, many thanks to Mick and Sharon for bringing this olive tree for Dave (See picture on the right). This was their birthday present to Dave...If only he had waited for two more days. Dave loves olive trees. It will constantly bring back memories of our beautiful years in Sicily. Missing you so much, my love...

Thinking of Dave and missing him so much. This was my first Christmas without him since 2013. Listening to Shane MacGowan's Fairy Tale of New York saddened me so much…Dave loves this song. 

Despite the time difference, I received many lovely messages from family and friends in England. Dave Baldacci and Nelly sent greetings and a Christmas music video for Christmas evening... 

I went for a walk on Boxing Day. I felt Dave's presence particularly on this day, much like in London. He must be waiting to take this walk. And I spoke a lot to him. Visited the Tsai Ming Liang exhibition at the Taipei University of Education (bei-shi) gallery. Tsai is one of the most outstanding filmmakers of the Second New Wave and I've been a fan of his works. This exhibition is a unique display of his film characters and cinematography in the form of oil paintings…Visually fascinating.

I also enjoyed the walk from Heping East Road to the Taiwan University campus. Dave visited the campus with me in 2022 and he loved the walk and the history around him…

Back to my parents', I had lunch with them and then took a walk with my mother along the river near their place. She couldn't walk far anymore. We walked slowly and chatted…

Feeling depressed on the evening of the 26th. Missing Dave a lot. Then I received Dave B's message telling me that he's at Dave's site at the cemetery (It was morning in the UK). He called it "Dave's place in the countryside." He brought beautiful flowers, removed the old roses and tidied up the place. Looks perfect (See photo). He also saw a squirrel digging up the bulbs… Dave must be so pleased to have his place visited by his close friend. It made me sleep better this night. 

1 January 2024

Missing Dave so much. My New Year's Eve was filled with deep sadness - and the anxiety that I wasn't sitting by Dave's ashes in the house at Coopers... In my parent's apartment in Taipei, I often had to find some quiet in the room upstairs so I could talk to Dave. I needed to know that he was here with me.

On this day last year (1 January 2023), Dave and I were staying in Lisbon. I didn't need my mobile phone to remind me of that week... We took many great walks on those first two days of our arrival in Lisbon and had a much-needed break from the routine of Dave's cancer treatment. 

We were desperately trying to live life as we would have wanted to. But our destiny always caught up with us... Dave started to suffer from terrible side effects soon afterwards...and we spent most of the second half of our Lisbon week indoors. 

Now I look at those photos taken by Dave and remember what a keen photographer he was... I've always loved his passion and the way he wanted to capture precious moments in life. I've always loved the way he loved/loves life. 

                                                                                                                                     Photos by Dave (above)

Dave, my favourite person, my very best friend, my love...

In Taipei...

5 January

I had news from England: Dave's plaque had been laid, said Michael. No one from the crematorium has sent an email or message to let me know. The plaque was laid in a different place. Instead of the site where Dave's ashes were buried, which was the location they promised when we all met at the committal service on the 30th of November, they have moved the location of Dave's plaque to more than a foot away where many plaques were placed next to each other... 

I wrote an email to the crematorium demanding an explanation. But they said they only take instructions from "the applicant and owner of Dave's plaque" - and apparently, I have not been included as one of the applicants or owners!

This unfair treatment really saddens me. I still have not fully understood why... And I know what Dave would feel... He would want to be remembered and seen, and not be treated like a number in a cemetery! My heart aches for Dave... 

Do we have to endure this abandonment even after Dave's departure from this world? 

10 January

They also told me by email that there can be only one owner for Dave's plaque. So I have asked Michael to transfer the ownership to me and he has agreed. I visit the cemetery often and will look after the plaque and the site well. When I die, Michael can take over and look after it. 

It has been very sad and stressful to have to debate and negotiate these really basic issues almost four months after Dave left this world. 

Every day, I think about the way Dave stared at me on the last day of his life... His tears, his unsaid words. I know he would want me to defend him and protect his name and his pride. And I will always stand up to the institutions and people out there who disrespect him and his wishes. 

The election campaigns have been filling TV screens ever since I arrived. People are so involved in the debates. My family is split into green and blue camps like many families are (the colours representing two main political parties). But I couldn't get excited like everyone else... None of the candidates represents the kind of politics I would vote for...but I try to just listen to what people are saying. I went with Hsiaolan to a DPP rally outside the presidential house two days before the election, just to get a sense of the mood.

Everywhere I walk, every day, I'm thinking how much Dave would enjoy photographing things around us... He would enjoy the lively atmosphere across town where people of different political camps shout at one another across the streets...and he'd enjoy watching the candidates in their election campaigning vehicles pleading for votes...

I'm missing so much our adventures together...Dave's smiles and laughter, his open-mindedness, his kindness and passion, his big heart... I'm holding on to the feeling of his presence. I am holding on to the strength he's giving me... I cannot carry on without this.

On Dave's Day, I also took a walk by the river, remembering the times when Dave and I were here in September 2022... Especially remembering our walk here on his birthday, the 17th of September... 

19 January

I'm spending a lot time with my parents at the moment. I try to get involved in what they do in their everyday lives. I accompanied my mother when she visited her physiotherapy clinic. I took part when the staff from health and social affairs bureaus came to assess her care needs. Her health has deteriorated since we visited last year and she now needs some support when taking a walk. I went with my parents to choose a wheelchair for my mother. She said she doesn't want to rely on it too early, but will need it when she takes a mid-distance trip with family. 

It seemed only a short while ago when she was able to walk properly... Reminds me how time flies...and how short time we might have with each other. This is why, apart from the daily chores, I'm trying to do more with them - sometimes I came up with ideas of day trips somewhere, such as to Bopiliao (in the old Manga area)... 

20 January

My parents wanted to be at home on Saturday. So I went to see Kishu An Forest of Literature in the southern part of town. The place was originally built in 1917 as part of a Japanese family's catering enterprise during the colonial era. It was one of the places where the Japanese colonials gathered socially and dined.

I didn't have a chance to take Dave there before. So I told him all about it during the visit this time... The main building is an elegant tatami exhibition room of a variety of calligraphy works. I had to buy myself a pair of socks to be able to enter (you mustn't wear shoes in there). I also enjoyed visiting the bookshop on the other side of the site. It's shelved with lots of interesting Japanese, Taiwanese and Chinese literature. 

I was glad to find the Chinese translation of Norwegian Wood (1987) by Haruki Murakami. A story about loss and death. I enjoy Murakami's beautiful prose and its emotional sensibilities... I can relate to many of his themes (I will return to this later)... I remembered chatting with Dave about the novel when I was reading it in English - he read it, too. But I haven't read it in Chinese before and somehow it brings the work closer... It's become my bedtime reading right now... 

Taking long walks is one of my ways to feel connected with Dave. Each adventure is a way to treasure and honour my memories of him. Each adventure enables me to keep him close to me...Each one is meaningful. 

I think Toru Watanabe (character in Norwegian Wood) would understand me. "Life and death are not two extreme opposites. Death exists [and makes sense] as part of living/life." 

25 January

This is the lowest I've felt in two weeks. So utterly depressed and sad. I look for things to lift me out of it... But the dark, heavy clouds above are holding me down. I'm finding it hard to breathe, most of the day... 

I bury myself in old photographs, so to find some traces of happy moments. But right now, the happy ones have been buried by our deepest sadness and desperation...

I read through my old diary and saw pages and pages of pain. The pain suffered by Dave in the past few years, and especially in August 2023. His helplessness and his loss of hope since the 7th of August, 2023, continues to break me each time I think back. My heart bleeds for the pain Dave had to go through... I'm feeling the pain he was feeling. It's never going to get better...   

29 January

Like in September 2022, Dave and I went on a family trip - this time to Daxi, an hour from Taipei. But unlike those warm mid-autumn days, we had lots of rain and cold wind during this past weekend. Wasn't a good start that my brother Yuren had a cold even before the trip... But we tried to make the best of it. The Shimen dam area was lovely and we had nice lunch in a cozy place. Then the afternoon was spent on walking around an animal farm, for the kids - but adults loved it, too. In the early evening we visited the handsome Li Teng-Fang Mansion, built in 1864. We strolled along the Daxi Old Street and had some street food in the evening. 

We all enjoyed the view from our windows in the guesthouse. Dave would have taken many photos from there (See two pictures above). These are for you, Dave!

Yuemei Constructed Wetland Ecological Park was slightly spoiled by the weather on our second day. But we made it up by visiting Sankeng and Yingge on the way back. I thought Sankeng was an interesting little village and I enjoyed seeing people taking their veg and various home-made products to sell in the market... A perfect place for Dave's photography. 

Our weekend ended with a celebratory dinner for nephew Shang Hong's birthday. He's nine now!

31 January 

The weather improved as soon as we returned to Taipei (!) and it was 25-26 degrees in the daytime today. The temperature dropped to around 18 at night. Messages from friends and family told me that it's about 9 degrees in London right now... I'm wondering how Dave's site looks now in the cemetery? Have the tulips grown? I'm coming back soon, to be near your site, Dave. 

Photo: by the river where we walked many times in September 2022

1 February

Woke up at 3am and saw a WhatsApp message from Mick and Sharon. "Kevin passed away." I had to read the message again. I find it hard to believe - he seemed well when we saw him on the 30th of November when he came to Dave's committal service. Kevin's daughters' FB posts said that he died yesterday evening. Whatever the cause, it is so shocking and sad.

I never got to know Kevin very well, even though he was an old friend of Dave's. He kept a polite distance from me. But from what I knew, Kevin was a great person. A loyal son and father, and a loyal and kind friend - to Dave especially. He went through a lot in his life, and still had the capacity to be kind and compassionate... He wrote to Dave every day during the three years of Dave's terminal illness. They chatted on the phone often - and in the last year Kevin video-called Dave every week. I was so glad that he was there for Dave...

When we said good-bye the last time on the 30th of November, Kevin promised that he will be organising a memorial walk for Dave when I come back to London in mid-February. 

It's particularly sad for me that Kevin left the world only four months after Dave... I know I shouldn't think this way but it felt as if there was something symbolic about the timing... His daughter Jess said to me on FB: "Dad and Dave must be partying up there right now!" I really don't know what to say to that. 

Photo on the right, taken by myself: Dave and Kevin by the Thames, after our lunch in Limehouse, 13 May, 2022

20 May

Following a busy week, I was so glad to be able to leave things aside and head to the cemetery. The train trip to Upminster was relaxing early in the morning, and I enjoyed reading The Invisible Doctrine by George Monbiot the whole way... Then the lovely walk from Upminster to the cemetery that I've been looking forward to. This route has become so familiar - even chatted to the florist who obviously liked my frequent visit!

As I got to the cemetery, I felt my head was clear and the weight that was on me for the entire week was lifted... I was suddenly freed of the burden of the outside world. I talked to Dave and told him how glad I am to be here... I cleared the weeds, washed Dave's plaque, poured clean water in the vase and put in the lilies and roses I brought with me. 

It was so beautiful to listen to the trees. They're our friends, forever guarding us... I'm starting to prefer their sounds than the human voices and noises out there. Dave would have filmed this, so I did, for him. 

Love you, my beautiful one. Missing you so much...

25 May

Good people of East London demanding ceasefire in Gaza (pics taken on Mile End Road)

26 May

I had another MRI scan today (of my heart, head, spine and abdomen) which lasted two long hours. I've never had such a long scan, and for the first time, I felt quite claustrophobic inside the tube scanner. I said a little prayer for myself and for Dave - it usually calmed me a little... Then I fell into a trance state - a dream-like, semi-conscious state in between being awake and being fully asleep. 

During it, I walked through a tunnel alone and saw the light at the far end... I heard myself saying, "Maybe this is what happens when you're about to die." I walked towards the light, and as I came out of the tunnel, I saw a vast valley in front of my eyes. Endless waves of hills... In a distance, there was a beautiful lake locked by the hills around it...If I had seen anything remotely similar to this landscape, it would be the Sicilian valleys.

Dave was standing there at the hilltop. He looked like the same person I met eleven years ago. No longer sick and frail. I heard myself thinking, "I hope you're wearing that grey new shirt I gave you sometimes." (That was one of Dave's birthday presents from me and it was with him when he was cremated.) We were so emotional seeing each other... We held each other tight, not letting go... It's been such a long time. We cried and cried. "How have you been?" I asked Dave. "I'm doing fine here," he said, showing me the picnic he prepared. He cheerfully asked me to sit down. He said things are fine here in the valleys and there's not a thing to worry about... "There's never any bad weather here, or climate crisis," he said. He wasn't joking.

"This is where you will come when you leave the world," Dave told me gently.

"Really? Will it still be here?" I asked, feeling anxious that this could all be an illusion.

"It will never go away. It waits here for you," Dave answered, with a generous smile. That loving, warm smile that I've missed so much... We cried happy tears together... It was a tremendously warm feeling to know that Dave is fine and he will be there waiting for me when the time comes for me. 

I couldn't stop crying until the radiographer who was scanning my heart started telling me: "Breathe in, then hold your breath." That awoke me. I followed the instructions and held my breath for a few seconds. "Now breathe normally," he said.

27 May

The image of Dave at the hilltop has stayed with me since yesterday. It gave me hope that he may be in such a place, and he may be carefree and well-protected... I'd like to think that there is such a place.

It was particularly emotional to visit Dave's site at the cemetery this morning. I brought many beautiful tulips. Lilies from last week have bloomed. 

You always brought me flowers, Dave, now it's my turn. Soon enough, I will see you again in that beautiful valley where flowers grow all year round... 

28 May

I want to be living in a world where there's no more injustices and suffering. 

31 May

I followed a lot of Hanif Kureishi's work in the past, and so when I saw the advert of The Buddha of Suburbia (1990) being adapted into a play, I knew I couldn't miss it. It was performed last night at the Swan Theatre in Stratford-upon-Avon, three hours' train trip away.

Kureishi worked with Emma Rice to produce this stunning piece of work. It is a funny, joyful exploration of family, social relations and belonging. This is how it started (The following paragraph quoting blurb from Royal Shakespeare Company):

"My name is Karim Amir, and I am an Englishman born and bred. Almost." South London in the lates 70s. High unemployment, food shortages, strikes. Despite the winter of discontent, 17-year-old Karim's life is about to explode into glorious technicolour as he navigates a path to enlightenment. Or at the very least, Beckenham.

It was a beautiful performance that made audience laugh and cry, without gaps in between. When the play finally ended at 10:30pm, three hours after it started, I came out of the theatre with sweat on my forehead and needed fresh air... It was a bit like going to a really good gig, with fully-engaged people all around me, sharing the fun.

Behind the scenes: the talented actors talk about the process of adapting and creating

Apart from the Buddha of Suburbia, I enjoyed watching tropical butterflies in a garden and just strolling around town. My walk by the river was filled with deep sadness...Missing Dave and feeling truly alone.

2 June

Several beautiful things happened today.

Couldn't wait to get to the cemetery this morning. I've been feeling very low in the past few days. Got so emotional when I walked into the cemetery...Thinking of Dave and what life has done to us. With some of the unresolved difficulties in my life, I felt particularly vulnerable and mentally exhausted. I felt Dave's presence strongly today. Talked to him and couldn't help my tears...I felt he was crying, too. I could picture his face. The same sadness in his eyes when he cried with Toy Story...  

I brought many small pink roses, some peony roses and lilies today. First time I found peony roses at the florist. They're so beautiful, pink and soft like candy floss... I changed water and put on the flowers. Cleared some weeds; they grow fast... We cried together again. Then I saw a crow on the lawn. Looked like the same one I saw last time. In some cultures crows are sacred and symbolise connection to the spiritual world...

Then I walked further into the cemetery, to bring a couple of lilies to David Baldacci's parents' gravestone. More visitors were around than usual, this being a warm day. But the sunshine didn't make me feel better.

I walked back towards Dave's site. Wanted to spend a little longer there. As I reached his lawn, I was so pleasantly surprised to find a couple of large bright orange roses and Gerbera in Dave's vase (See pics below). I was only gone for ten minutes! Who have just come by and brought these orange flowers? I looked around; there was a couple in the distance visiting their family or friend's gravestone. Couldn't be them. Who could it be?

Then I suddenly realised it must have been David Baldacci & Nelly. It's the same orange Gerbera Nelly chose last time...They must have come here to visit Mr & Mrs Baldacci's site. Isn't it funny that when I brought round a couple of lilies to their site, David B and Nelly were putting these orange roses and Gerbera at Dave's place... The thought cheered me up. I could picture Dave smiling at this... I know you're so glad to see your old friends visiting, Dave...

When I came back to Coopers, my neighbour Eamonn was mowing the lawn outside my door. He always did this, as if a habit. I thanked him for being a kind neighbour. "I'm doing this only for you," he replied. "We've gotta look after you." Later, I wrote him a message to thank him. It was then that his wife Mercedes told me that Eamonn had cleaned my kitchen window (from outside) the other day! I didn't even know. It moved me so much to have this kindness from them!

And, do you know what it's like to receive a kind message and a gift from someone you've never met? It happened to me today. I received a beautiful gift from Richard Aston, a 90-year-old man who lives in San Francisco. He read my book Chinese Whispers and got in touch years ago. During the last few years, Richard has been very kind and wrote me messages of support and sent me his books.

When Richard came to England to celebrate his 90th birthday last year, it happened to be during the same month when Dave passed away. I wasn't able to meet him then. Now he kindly sent me a new book of his - and only now I realised he came from Cardiff originally. At the age of sixteen, he boarded a ship to America and arrived in New York with only sixty dollars to his name. Like millions of migrants before him, he worked at many jobs. He ended up as a seaman once. He eventually became a teacher and settled in San Francisco.

Richard's new book is titled The World From the Eighth Grade, which is all about adolescents, whose world he was able to reach as a teacher. "Adolescence - 'childhood's end,' is when teenagers struggle to be free and spread their wings - even if it carries them too close to the sun," he wrote. "Unhappily, as many as twenty percent fall into a war of emotions that ends in self-harm..." This book gives voice to the inner turmoil that some of these adolescents are going through and are unable to express. These are personal experiences that I can relate and understand, once also a troubled teenager myself! Very much looking forward to reading this book - feels like it has just fallen to my doorstep from the sky!

8 June

Neighbours Richard & Steve invited me over for a coffee chat, which was very nice of them. They asked how I've been coping without Dave... I like it when people talk about Dave. I want him to be remembered by everyone...

Richard told me about events starting this weekend at Oxford House. The historic building in Bethnal Green is celebrating its 140th anniversary this year. So I went over there to take a look at their exhibits. 

Oxford House was established in 1884 by students and graduates from Oxford University who came to live and work in Bethnal Green. They developed social clubs, projects and community initiatives, some of which still exist today. Oxford House remains a community hub in the East End. I remember the days when people used to sell socialist papers outside the building before a public meeting there... Many groups and charities continue to meet there regularly. The anniversary archives and events explore local activism, youth culture and British-Somali heritage in particular.

9 June

Went to the cemetery. Feeling low. The windchimes in there sounded like an accompaniment to my mood... Missing Dave very much. We had a little cry together...

Thank you for being there for me, Dave, through this stressful week. With your spiritual support, I managed to sort out a couple of difficult issues. Please be there for me next week, too, when I will be talking to consultants at Barts about medical issues.

This early evening, my moods took me to the Young V&A down the road. Watching families spending time together. Children playing. So much happiness in this place. These kids will grow up happily and grow into well-balanced adults who care about others... I walked around looking at the same exhibits that Dave and I used to look at...  Overwhelmed by sadness.

10 June

Cousin Hsiao-Ping came to London on a work trip. We met in Paddington and walked up to Little Venice. (Why named "Little Venice"? It's really not prettier than our canals in East London.) 

A therapeutic reunion. We chatted about her life in New Jersey and mine in London... Will fallen leaves return to roots? "When we grow older, where will we be?" She asked the question. Difficult to answer. "Your future circumstances will make the decision for you," I said to her.

We laughed about childhood memories. She recalled the time when her dad sent her to our place "to study". She ended up watching loads of horror movies with us for the entire month. "Why did your dad believe that I could be a good influence to you?" I said.  

11 June

Walked over to Ragged School Museum for a book reading event in the evening. Haven't been back here for a long while. Dave and I used to take a walk here sometimes, along the canal, to Limehouse. Felt so heavy to be back here that I nearly turned away from the event... 

The museum building has been refurbished, although it still looks knackered... The event was on the top floor, quite an atmospheric space, empty and unfurnished, as if builders had just left. Glad that it hasn't already been turned into a trendy-looking place like some art spaces in the hipster-occupied part of East London.

This evening, author Eithne Nightingale talked about her book Child Migrant Voices in Modern Britain. Several of the people she wrote about read out some of the chapters. The book records the experiences of children arriving in East London from the 1930s to the present day. What is particularly interesting to me is the way their stories are closely tied up with history and activism of our local area - and how their activism transformed the area. 

                                                               Dave, Millennium Bridge, 21 June 2023

14 June

It's been nine months since Dave left us. I miss him so much, every single day. Time does not make it any less painful, and in fact, I've come to understand how deep the pain is, as time goes on…

In the past nine months, I've continued to live with the unbearable, never-fading memories of Dave's suffering - having watched him suffer so much and unable to save him. I am living with deep feelings of guilt - like a "survivor" who feels she should have gone, too... Dave's words often ring in my head: "It's me and you together, forever." So why am I still here?

Old diaries and photographs don't sooth the pain. They're forever refreshing and reinforcing it, yet I can't do without them.

I often asked Dave: What should I do? How should I go on? But there's no answer from him. The only consolation is when I see Dave in my dreams… Recently, I saw him at a hilltop in a beautiful valley when I was semi-asleep inside a MRI tube scanner. I've tried to hold onto those very warm feelings from our "reunion"…

Dave continues to be my source of energy in my everyday life. Sometimes it seems as though you've wanted to let me know you're here with me, Dave… Recently, I started to hear the sound of windchimes indoors, just like those lovely windchimes I hear inside the cemetery. I heard it every time when I came back into the house after a long walk. It was like your way of saying, "Glad we're back home." Then I would make us some marmalade toast (rye bread). You always love a few slices of toast with your coffee after a long walk...

Sometimes, after the walk, I listen to some old music we used to listen to - then it would be impossible to control my sadness. In that case, the only thing i can do is to go to bed - often just after sunset. Bed is such a safe space...The world cannot touch me.

With your spiritual support, Dave, I got through the past month waiting for medical test results. The whole process has become more predictable and less stressful. The results from my heart scan came back and they confirmed it's not angina or any coronary artery disease, which is a relief. The MRI of my head, abdomen and back also showed no malignancy. But the scan report emphasises the degenerative changes in the lower part of my spine which the consultants asked my GP to look into and organise treatment (physiotherapy mainly). I've started swimming to help reduce symptoms, following the neurologist's advice.

Regarding my recently-diagnosed Granulomatous Lymphadenitis, I had a consultation with Dr Basheer at Barts this week, one of the best doctors I've met there. It makes all the difference when you meet a good doctor. He explained to me in detail about what to do next – the plan is to have various tests to investigate the causes of the condition. One of the possibilities is Sarcoidosis, and I'll be given a CT of the lungs to find out.

I spend most of my time on my own, reading, taking long walks, visiting galleries, trying to work on the book project (slowly). I have endless things to keep my mind occupied. And I need to be alone, with Dave, spiritually, a lot of the time, to keep my head clear and be myself – it is the perfect time to reflect on things and think of our times together.

When I spend time with people, it doesn't divert my attention or my thoughts away from you, Dave. Even when I'm among crowds, I think of you. You're always there with me - I think you know exactly what I mean. When I spend time with people, especially those who care, it gives me a sense of purpose and meaning. I also like it when I work and do things for a good cause. For me, doing these things helps to justify being alive.

There are so many kind people out there and I feel lucky to know them. Recently, it was very nice of Jabez to invite me to join the lunch club at his community centre in Hackney (their usual service users are local residents of East and South-east Asian backgrounds). It's only half an hour's walk from my area, so I gladly joined. (The lunch club runs three times a week; I've made it a habit to go once a week.) I found that apart from Chinese and Vietnamese residents, there are also local white residents who have found the centre a good social place for them. It was great to meet with people of all backgrounds and chat about our different experiences.

Glad to join the Palestine solidarity demo in central London with our "Strangers" group (the group of walkers from Hong Kong and Taiwan). We also had the opportunity to chat and it was very kind of Elly to give me some health tips! I also enjoyed the walk to Bermondsey with Les one afternoon, visiting old and new places (See pics). It's amazing how you can always discover new things in places you've walked so many times before… Maybe this is why Dave always calls each of these walks an "adventure." Dave loves these discoveries...

Dave's old mate Andy celebrated his 60th birthday in Preston on the 29th of May. Hope to meet up with him when he comes down to London sometime. I also hope to meet with David (Baldacci) and Nelly at some point for David's 60th birthday celebration this month.

Family and friends continue to be a constant source of consolation. Hsiaolan has been very supportive; we have long conversations on the phone where we share problems with each other. I don't want my mother to worry about me, and Hsiaolan helps to pass on news sometimes and "tone things down" when necessary… Cousin Sarah and auntie Jean have always been kind and we exchanges messages often. I've also recently heard from Andrew, Dave's cousin, whose long letter I enjoyed reading. He told me that he realised how much he and Dave shared similar taste for music when he heard 'Follow You, Follow Me' played at Dave's funeral service… He was much moved by it as the song would also be his choice of music for his own funeral… This paragraph of his was particularly sad and sweet to read…

I also have friends and neighbours who are ready to offer help. Mark and Hsiaowen kindly drove all the way east to help me sort out some household electronics... At Coopers, my neighbour Eamonn has been so kind – he even cleaned my kitchen window (from outside) without telling me! I've felt surrounded by kindness and good will…

On the 14th of June today, a special day for Dave, I'd like to introduce a great place in the East End because I know Dave would love me to.

My chosen local gallery of the month is Autograph, a free gallery in Rivington Place, a quiet little street in the middle of the noisy hipster-land of Shoreditch. The last time we visited this gallery was just before the pandemic, although we came into Rivington Place briefly during autumn 2020 where Dave took a few photos of the street art out here. (See pic: Scary)

This time, I saw works of artist Wilfred Ukpong who use aspects of Afrofuturism and mysticism and create powerful reflections on the crisis of environmental exploitation and destruction in the Niger Delta, Ukpong's homeland. This is such a stunning, strong piece of work, aimed to critique extract capitalism and challenge colonial narratives, as the artist puts it. This is where art is empowerment.

Talking about art being empowerment, I noticed that a section of the "art world" has often been silent about people's suffering – and recently, about what is happening in Gaza. So many lives have been lost and yet some art institutions choose to keep quiet about these injustices. The latest example is the Turner Contemporary in Margate we visited last year. The institution's silence is contemptible. 

For Dave's special day today, I walked over to Tate Modern to see the Zanele Muholi exhibition. Muholi is a South African visual artist whose photography tells the stories of Black LGBT+ lives in South Africa and beyond, past and present. She grew up during the apartheid regime, under which these marginalised social groups suffered grave injustices. Although apartheid was abolished in 1994 and discrimination based on sexual orientation has been outlawed since 1996, these communities remained subjected to hate crimes and violence.

Muholi's series 'Faces and Phases' (which began in 2006) is a collective portrait of their marginalised lives in South Africa. She wants it to be a living archive for future generations to see that "we were here."

Then I walked back east and went to our local Whitechapel Gallery for Gavin Jantjes' exhibition, 'To Be Free! A Retrospective 1970-2023'. He is also a South African artist and activist. His early years in Cape Town happened to be the early years of apartheid. His anti-apartheid work led to his exile.

"I had a need to cry rage, yet simultaneously I wanted a voice that could sing a visual song for and of Black people."     - Gavin Jantjes, 1976

I believe Dave enjoyed very much the long walk as well as the brilliant exhibitions today. He must have had a word with the sky and stopped the rain. We had good sunshine throughout the day... For our tradition of a late afternoon coffee session, we had a slice of banana bread each. Love you, my beautiful one!

On the seventh anniversary of the Grenfell fire, we are remembering the victims of the fire and what caused the completely avoidable deaths... They are the global working-class, the people without capital. Remember how they were treated.  

As one of the fellow protestors' placards (see pic) said in 2017, "Get the Tories Out." Although I don't have faith in the electoral system, I'd ask everyone I know to go out and vote this July. Not simply to get the Tories out, but to make a stand and support socialist and Green candidates in your areas.    

16 June

Went to the cemetery this morning. There were many people there, for a change. It's (the British) Father's Day. I've never seen so many people in groups at the cemetery... 

It's roses day, of all colours, Dave. And the peonies from last week have bloomed. Hope you like them! Looks like the lawn has been mowed... I'm glad. Let's make sure your lawn always looks handsome, Dave. 

For you, my love. Wish you were here.

In my WhatsApp communication with family, brother Yuren told me that they were watching the video I made last year about Dave. My nephews were remembering the times they spent with Dave. The older one had known Dave for longer and had fond memories of him... So moved to hear that they are thinking of him and wanting to refresh those memories. You are so much loved by my family, Dave! 

21 June

Had a lovely evening with David B and Nelly for an early celebration of David's birthday. Prospect of Whitby in Wapping was a bit of a let-down in the evening as it was full of very drunk people (who didn't stop trying to impress us with their loud happiness)...and later at Dicken's Inn we had drunk customers dancing above us upstairs, with noises of the football match on the TV screen right next to us.  

Fortunately, we all enjoyed the walks in between pubs, and it was very nice of David B to tell us all about the area. He spent a lot of time here back in the 1980s... We walked through Sidney Street on the way back to Whitechapel. Always saddens me... Those years with Dave in Sidney Street felt so far away, yet so deeply painful to remember. 

22 June

Joined Dave's family for niece Alice's wedding in Royston. Alice and Dan are such a lovely couple. Makes your heart melt to look at young couples like them...They look so truly happy together.

Missing Dave a lot and went for a walk nearby... We were here at the same venue years ago for Rachel's wedding and we took a walk then, too. What happened to our lives, Dave?

Everyone's so happy, especially Rachel. After lunch, Alice and Dan started the dance... It was fun to see Sarah and Rodney let their hair down and join in the dance. Even Michael. Couldn't believe my eyes. And that was after just a couple of glasses of red wine! 

24 June

Brought pink Gerberas and white and light pink roses to the cemetery early in the morning. The lilies from last week have bloomed. The combination of colours was wonderful... It made the lawn look lovely. I knew Dave must love it.  

Talked to Dave. It's been a busier week. Couldn't come to the cemetery yesterday because they organised a CT scan (of the lungs) for me at Barts. I think of you and miss you constantly, my love. Thank you for being there for me, my beautiful one...

28 June

Started working on my book project much more this week. It's also been a busy week with family. Cousin Hsiaoping came back to London from New Jersey for a visit with her husband and two sons. I invited them to my area and showed them around Whitechapel and Brick Lane. Took them to Brick Lane Bookshop, and had a short conversation with Hsiaoping's older son Owen, asking him whether he enjoyed visiting Taipei... Hsiaoping's younger son Graham walked into a sweetshop and selected a box of Turkish delight... At the top of Brick Lane, I persuaded Hsiaoping to get a salt beef bagel for her snack later.  

At dinner that night, I asked Hsiaoping's husband what brought them back to London again and again. He said Owen studies English literature and there are many places for Owen and Graham to see in this country... He and Hsiaoping are such caring and lovely parents.

Today, cousin Sarah, her husband Rodney and their son Ed came to my place for lunch. It was the first time they visited Coopers. I knew Dave would be so pleased. 

I showed Sarah around the house, and when she came into our bedroom, she saw Dave's table which I've turned into a space with his urn, his closest belongings (his glasses, his watch, his bracelet which we got together from a Senegalese man in Syracuse and which he loved and wore every day) and framed photos and paintings of places we loved visiting or were most familiar to us... Sarah is one of Dave's closest relations and her presence here meant a lot to me.

Michael joined us for lunch and it was good to see the family getting along... Ed liked Chen Ming-zhang's folk I played, the same music used throughout Hou Hsiao-Hsien's film Dust in the Wind. Ed loves Taiwanese New Wave; the style in his filmmaking has been influenced by Tsai Ming-liang, one of my favourite filmmakers, too. Ed noticed our film collection... Remembering the times when Dave and I watched films in the evening. I introduced many Taiwanese and Chinese films to him and he always enjoyed them... 

1 July

Went to the cemetery early in the morning. I like morning visits, just like the three-mile evening walk last night - I can think and talk to Dave easily...

I brought new cactus with me. Some lilies and light yellow roses, too. But they look a little too pale together... Next week we'll need some brighter colours.

Missing your physical presence so much, my guardian angel, my love.

8 July

Spent time with cousin Hsiaoping and her family which was lovely. They enjoyed our walks in London, from Soho to Charles Dickens home and then to Barbican... Owen and Graham are such lovely teenagers. So impressed with Owen's artworks!

Hsiaoping and her family happened to be here on the day of the general election and they could feel the excitement in the air... Dave and I used to stay up on election nights. He certainly would have felt so excited this time.

Voted for Green Party for the first time in my life. It was for their principled position on Gaza as well as their refusal to play the race card scapegoating migrants (which is what most British political parties are doing). On the 4th of July, with all my critique of Labour, it still felt really good to see the Tories wiped out - That's how much we all hate and detest them. Also watching closely how Europe is doing - and what a relief that the New Popular Front (NFP), a left-green alliance, has become the winner of the snap election in France and kept Marine le Pen away from power. Dave would constantly talk to me about this...and I still hear him talking now! 

I miss Dave so much. His enthusiasm and passion, his curiosity, his fascination with the world around him. I miss the times when we explored the world together and discussed things endlessly in our own universe... He had so much energy in him... His energy is still here with me.

Glad to be in the cemetery today. So peaceful and beautiful in the sun. After the rain yesterday, I thought I was going to see all flowers gone. But instead, I was gladly surprised by the sight of beautifully blooming pink lilies (those from last week)... I brought many different colours of roses, pink gerberas and iris today. The flowers looked wonderful. Spent ages arranging them so that they complimented each other... 

I know you must love them, Dave! They certainly stood out from a distance. I talked and talked to Dave, had a little walk round the cemetery, and came back to Dave's lawn and talked some more.

Love you so much, my beautiful guardian angel. 

10 July

Got up before 7am and went straight to writing for a couple of hours. Then I suddenly felt like taking a walk to Guildhall gallery, not far from our familiar Barts. Dave wanted us to go there last year. But he became so ill in late July 2023 that he didn't have the energy to walk there. Thinking of Dave's last few months and feeling so low - and out of breath - on my way there this morning. It felt as if Dave wanted me to go there today...and I must. 

The gallery (free entry) is filled with mostly Victorian paintings. There is a Roman amphitheatre downstairs - this was what got Dave interested in this gallery... The Roman Londinium was founded around AD110-120 on the northern bank of the River Thames. At its height, it had a population of 20,000-30,000. It was embellished with many buildings, such as bath houses, temples, a market, etc. The remains of the stone-walled, enlarged/improved part of an amphitheatre, was discovered on the north-western periphery of the site.

At Guildhall, what I found so attractive was an exhibition of architectural collages by Anne Desmet. She usually works on the theme of urban or architectural transformation. She was inspired by the use of a toy kaleidoscope (which she bought in a museum), and has created her own buildings and structures through it... I love her Sky Window series, an architectural fantasy. She creates windows where viewers can observe an array of objects that might be seen above any random rooftops in London, from the familiar to the wonderful... These stunning kaleidoscope digital collages (made of wood engravings, linocuts and lithographs) span over thirty years of her documentation of London. They offer new perspectives on this city and invite re-imaginations...

Another aspect that strikes me about Desmet's collages is that some of them were created in 2022 during her treatment for breast cancer. (Her treatment was successful, I'm glad to hear.) The collages clearly reflect some of the thoughts that were going through her mind during that time... I believe that an entirely different element would go into your work when you are faced with a life-and-death situation in your life...I believe it makes a huge difference to an artist's work... Her approach here is intuitive, and her strength is spontaneity. The works touch on ideas of escape, flight, possible new worlds, and the Tower of Babel. She explored themes of deconstruction and reconstruction, climate crisis and sustainable healthier modes of living...

I could feel Dave enjoying the experience...

13 July

Cloudy and several degrees colder today. Went to the cemetery early in the morning. Tomorrow will be Dave's tenth month anniversary.

As expected, I was welcome by a vase of blooming lilies and roses (that I brought last week). I added my new roses to the already beautiful bundle... Love the variety of stunning colours. The fresh pale yellow and pink roses are almost looking seductive... The pinkness was wrapped in the layers of pale yellow... And one dark pink rose stood out - Couldn't resist it when I saw it at the florist.

I know you're content with the flower arrangement, Dave. The sound of windchimes was reassuring. When l was leaving, I saw several broken old vases near Dave's site - they belonged to other people whose ashes were buried here. It was a sad sight, revealing how infrequently those people's plaques have been visited - and possibly how much their loved ones have moved on... 

I said to Dave that his site will always be well looked after and his lawn will always look beautiful. Love you and missing you very much, my beautiful one!

14 July

Ten months, Dave. These ten months have been marked by frequent "ups and downs". When I say "ups," I mean the days when I feel flat and numb. On those days I'm able to meet people and do some work. Then there are the "downs", when all I could feel is deep sadness and pain. Then I can only bury myself in revisiting our lives over and over again and reflecting on what has happened to us in the past few years… As time went on, the "ups" have become much less frequent and the "downs" tend to drag on. Three or four weeks ago, at one point, it became uncontrollable and I felt I was descending – to a place I don't know how dark it will be. In that week, I woke up crying and fell asleep in tears, as the image of Dave's tears on his last evening came back to me, again and again, and again…

During my "downs," I have put together three large volumes of photographs by Dave – and having them printed. I want to be able to reach them on my bookshelf and look at them every day. I have always wanted to publish Dave's photography - some of them were used alongside my work in the past. A lot of them are so good that I don't ever want them to be put away and forgotten... During those "downs," I've also started to make collages out of old materials and photos. The act of doing cut-outs made me feel better, strangely… Overall, the collage-making has been therapeutic.

Dave is a beautiful person. (And yes, I insist on using the present tense.) That is why I always appreciate friends and family who remember and talk about Dave... I really appreciated it when cousin Sarah came into our bedroom that day (when she visited me in late June) and looked at Dave's belongings and talked about him… I knew he wanted to be remembered… Sarah kindly sent a card afterwards and said the house felt homely… She said she felt that Dave was with us in spirit…

There were two exhibitions in town I wanted to see for today, which I believe Dave would be very interested. My walk this morning was made difficult by the marathon. Many streets were closed off in central London and packed with tourists… It wasn't easy to get to Tate Britain, where I booked to see 'Now You See Us: Women Artists in Britain 1520-1920", a widely reviewed exhibition. I got there in the end. The show celebrates works of 100 women artists (women who forged public careers as artists). As the exhibition points out, "most of the women featured belonged to a social class that gave them the time and opportunity to develop their talents. Many were daughters, sisters, wives of artists." This was obvious from their works. Most of the works exhibited here revealed the ways in which even socially privileged women tried to paint like their privileged men in a male-dominated art world and forged artist careers largely imitating what male artists did… Their themes seemed dull, frankly, until I came into the last room with modernism being introduced into some of the women artists' works. (See pic above)

There is a small room at the back of the main gallery that displays the artist's further research into a larger colonial project that includes Iraq. It's entitled The Land and the People. At the centre of the room is the study table, with snapshots of archival documents containing American publications financed institutionally spanning 1935 to 1962. These are concerned with "the division and subjugation of the land and its people in the service of British and US interests in the region," as the artist puts it. Woven through the exhibition is also the counter narratives. Texts and portraits of rebels (See pics). They suggest numerous undocumented insurgencies by the dispossessed: workers, minorities, women, communists, and others…

I know Dave must have been fascinated with the displays today. And eleven miles' walk has done us good. Now back at home, we're going to have our coffee session and rest… 

21 July

Went to the cemetery early this morning. I was wondering what I will see today. To my surprise, the cactus I placed in front of Dave's plaque is gone! Someone has taken it, leaving a hole in the ground. Makes me sad that even in a cemetery a theft like this can happen... I promised Dave that I will bring a new one next week. 

I put on the new flowers. The colour combination is fantastic...

24 July

Waited for a month for CT results for my lungs. They were thinking I might have Sarcoidosis or some kind of lung damage (for the cause of my recently-diagnosed Granulomatous lymphadenitis). Felt slightly anxious on my way to Barts for my results in the late afternoon. I talked to Dave all the way there, and it felt like this was what we were doing all that time, looking after and consoling each other… My guardian angel was there for me all the time - and he still is. I found myself feeling quite calm as I walked into Barts.

What actually affected me was being in the hospital seeing all the familiar spaces where Dave and I spent so much of our time… Everywhere I turned, I saw Dave and what he had gone through...It was unbearable. It was only ten and a half months ago. Everything felt so raw. I looked over the corridor at the oncologist department where we always waited for his appointments... So much heartache, so many tears. And to the left, the pharmacy, and the hopeless hours of waiting there, adding to our misery... Being here at Barts is reliving the pain and anguish…

Then I was called in. Dr Basheer wasn't there today. It was another doctor I've not met before. She went through the scan with me. There is nothing wrong or abnormal, apparently. Lymph nodes look OK, she said. There is no Sarcoidosis or any malignancy. A relief to hear this. At the same time, she said this is not final. Because they still need a radiologist to take a look at the scan, so that they can finalise the report. She will call me next week to let me know. But so far so good. Dave stood by me all the time, and he smiled and held my hands as we left Barts. 

I messaged both sister Hsiaolan and our old friend Les about the results as promised. They called me afterwards to have a chat. They've both been quite worried. Hsiaolan was puzzled how come scan results can take so long... (It takes a few days in Taiwan.) Parents and brother Yuren also sent messages. (We exchange health news in our family WhatsApp group.) They were all reassured. 

I carried on the chat with the family this morning. Yuren told me that my nine-year-old nephew is learning to swim during the summer break. So glad to hear that they have planned more outdoor activities for him... Dave is always fond of our nephew and I'm sure he's happy to see him growing into a lovely teenager...

25 July

More and more old contacts and friends are getting back in touch. This afternoon, a Chinese friend whom I've not met for years came to meet me in the East End. I'll call her Bangy here (for security reasons). 

I showed Bangy around Brick Lane. We sat down for lunch in a local Bangladeshi cafe, and talked about life in the past few years. She didn't shy away from talking about Dave. "Dave was with you all the way during your work in Italy," she said, "He was like your guardian." I realised that she knew more about my life than I expected...

We chatted about work and ideas, and I found her openness and honesty endearing... There was so much to talk about. What drives both of us in our research is often our irrepressible curiosity, and we laughed about it... She has done well in the past few years, having written numerous well-received novels in China. 

I've rediscovered much common ground with her, as she is completely different to those exiled Chinese writers who tend to write for a Western market, i.e., either exoticising Chinese women or pandering to a binary narrative of China vs West. Bangy opposes the Chinese state, but probably due to her experiences living in Britain, has no illusions about "freedom and democracy" in the West. 

In passing, she mentioned to me that it is her birthday today. I'm so glad that she chose to spend her birthday afternoon with me... 

28 July

Went to the cemetery this morning. Brought a new cactus and some beautiful roses. Dave's lawn looked particularly lovely in the sun today. Dave was pleased with it, as I could hear his gentle voice, whispering the words he always said when we were falling asleep together... 

Let's always keep your site as beautiful as today, my guardian angel. Love you so much, my beautiful one!

4 August

Went to the cemetery early this morning. Surprised to find Dave's site to be in a mess - looked as if there's been a storm. But I don't remember a storm this week... The little cactus pot has been pulled out of the ground... I had to put it back in, and tidied up the site. Then I arranged the roses, lilies and iris I brought with me - the florist didn't have a bigger variety this morning, for some reason.

Felt like talking to Dave about my week - although he already knew as I talked to him every day. A few unpleasant things happened this week, but the positive events still outweighed the bad... The highlight of the week was spending time at a local union where I was asked to join their organisers' training which I found really useful.

As always, at Dave's site, I shared my thoughts with him about everything that happened. Like our morning sessions in the past when we had coffee and chatted about everything... It was always so reassuring and emotional at the same time, talking to him at his site...  Then I saw a magpie nearby, an especially pretty one... and thought of how Dave always took pictures of them and how much he appreciated everything in our natural environment - and how much he loved life. 

Hopefully the flowers will look beautiful this week and won't fade too soon. Not much to ask, is it? 

10 August

It's been an intense past week with far-right riots spreading across Britain. You cannot explain away such a show of white supremacy by adopting an economic reductionist analysis. It was heart-breaking to see asylum seekers' accommodation being attacked and set alight... I can only imagine the immense fear this would have created. What happened this past week was not a matter of law-and-order. The surge of white supremacist activities is the result of the normalisation of their ideas in the past two decades. (Please see my article in the main page.) The extreme racist immigration policies under the Tories have certainly emboldened the far-right… British Muslims were fearing for their safety. Many friends and associates of mine are from outside of Britain and they were intimidated by the racial violence and felt anxious. People were doing everything they could to organise themselves and protect their communities.  

Everything changed on Wednesday when tens of thousands of anti-racists took to the streets, showing solidarity to communities affected by the far-right riots. Many trade unionist and activist friends were part of these rallies. They were a brilliant show of force to the racists and fascists. Since then, the planned activities of the far-right have not materialised.

After a busy week of article writing and interviews, I needed a long walk today... I knew Dave had been looking forward to this... Walked 8.5 miles, from Bethnal Green to Regent's Canal Towpath near Kings Cross. The plan was to attend Bangy and her husband's poetry reading at Word on the Water on a bookbarge. 

Along the way, I saw that the gasholders have been turned into a building site for luxury apartments. It was sad to see... We walked past the gasholders so many times on our walks here.  I was remembering all our canal walks in the past few years...On one of those walks back from Angel, we had takeaway sushi on the canal... On another walk, we got off the canal in Islington and just strolled around town... So many lovely times and conversations... Saddened me so much. But I believe Dave was still smiling and enjoying seeing all his favourite birds and swans and taking pictures...

When I reached the bookbarge, I got myself a Masala tea and sat by the canal for a rest. But felt dizzy and depressed. I felt so low that it didn't feel right to meet anyone... So in the end I decided to head back to Bethnal Green instead of going to the poetry event. I just felt that I couldn't do it, physically and emotionally... I apologised to Bangy for this. 

11 August

Such a warm day. Went to the cemetery. There were quite a few people around. I went to get some water from the cemetery cafe, which was packed with people. I always stood out as the only person who was not white and I was used to it. This is Essex after all. But for some reason, I caught some funny stares today (I didn't usually). I wondered if this had something to do with what happened in the past week (the far-right riots)? which could have sensitised people. 

I carried two bottles of water and the flowers and walked to Dave's lawn. The cactus pot was moved slightly, but it was probably just the wind and the rain... I tidied up the site and put on the new selection of flowers. I thought the colours looked really elegant together... I talked to Dave a lot. Prayed for him. (No, I'm no atheist. And f*ck atheism. Where were you when we needed you, atheist friends?)

Thinking a lot about how to commemorate Dave's one-year anniversary on the 14th of September... I want to be well to be able to do it, so I've talked to RLH and changed the surgery date. 

Missing Dave so much. This past week made me need him even more... My dearest, my love, my closest friend, my true comrade. I asked the trees to look after your lawn, Dave, and make flowers bloom and grow... Let's be back here again next weekend.

14 August

It's been eleven months since Dave left us. This month has been particularly difficult as I live with the painful memories of last August when Dave fought so hard against the illness and suffered so much. 

This month, Dave's presence feels even stronger than before. It feels as if we are even closer. I'm needing him so much. In uncertain times like the past week, I feel strongly that he is here guiding me along… 

Sadness and depression always take me back to Vicky Park. I'm looking at everything in the park as if I'm seeing it for the first time. Sunny or cloudy, there's always beauty everywhere I look. The trees know it all, they know the full story. I also walked through our Bethnal Green Park sometimes, and once I saw our little squirrel friends. People have been feeding them well – they didn't plead me for nuts anymore. Instead, they were running around burying nuts away and sometimes fighting each other for them… 

It's always reassuring to hear from family. On one occasion, cousin Sarah talked about her childhood. She told me that she has videos of Dave when they were children… She will show them to me sometime. She said she still couldn't believe Dave isn't physically with us anymore. Sarah invited me to visit them in Kent – we agreed that we'll do it in the autumn… Dave will enjoy the get-together very much… Last year we were invited to go to Rodney's birthday party but couldn't because Dave was so ill. Rachael has also kindly invited me and Michael to their home, too… So much kindness and affection. I'm sure Dave can feel it, too…

For this special day, the 14th, I have two beautiful things for Dave. First of all, I asked Dave to come with me to Whitechapel Gallery for London artist and activist Peter Kennard's 'Archive of Dissent'. Kennard is the Emeritus Professor of Political Art at the Royal College of Art. 'Archive of Dissent' marks one of the most extensive displays of his five-decade work.

The play, Utoya, was good. Brilliantly written by Edoardo Erba. Strong performance. The story was set in July 2011 when Breivik murdered 69 young people in Utoya: Gunnar and Malin have sent their daughter to the island, and desperately seek contact. On the farm next-door to the perpetrator's, Petter and Inga realise their suspicions about him are well founded. At Central Command, Alf and Unni must decide on the best course of action in response to the attack. 

It was a sharp reflection on the societal response to the tragedy. We knew through the dialogue that, Norwegian society imagined the mass killer to be a Muslim before Breivik's identity was announced. And even then, Malin in the story refused to accept it at first… It could just as well be a British story. It's particularly familiar, after what happened with the racist response following the Southport killing. The depiction of Islamophobia, through the couple's heated conversation, was smart. The atmosphere among the audience was tense: you get the feeling that no one was treating this as just a play.

Dave and I had a really nice day out. We're going to keep doing this, Dave. We're going to have lots and lots of adventures. Love you so much, my beautiful one!

16 August

Went over to the cemetery this morning. Surprised to see all the flowers have faded. They didn't last more than five days. I tidied up and put on the new flowers. Chose five colours of roses this time... I think Dave was pleased with them.

On the way home, I received an email from a woman who introduced herself as Yuebai. She said she has been reading this diary. "I hope you and Dave are having a good day," she wrote. These words moved me to tears. Kindness from a complete stranger, who seems to understand me... 

18 August

Met with Joy and her partner Daniel on Saturday afternoon. Hadn't seen Joy for years. They have left HK and settled in Britain. It was kind of her to ask about Dave and how I'm doing. And as she knew Whitechapel from years ago, we had lots to talk about... Belonging, life in this country and the possible difficulties faced by new migrants.

I attended Benjamin Zephaniah's tribute event with Catherine in Forest Gate Community Garden this afternoon. There were over two hundred people from the local community and afar. Very moving tributes and poem reading from Benjamin's former colleagues and friends. A teacher from a local school mentioned how Benjamin spent the day with children in the school which greatly inspired them... That was the kind of thing he always did - talking to children and young people and encourage them to read and write. Glad to hear that there will be a Benjamin Zephaniah Day at some point in the future... His works on Empire and being Black in Britain should become part of the curriculum in schools.

24 August

It's been a busy week. Did interviews. Also met with a Taiwanese academic, Mr Chen, whom I met in a Trotskyist group in Taipei some thirty years ago. He kindly gave me a 700-page new book he wrote about Karl Marx. I promised to read it, although it will definitely not be my bedtime reading! 

Working on a new book project: I'm writing about Dave, loss and belonging, and our neighbourhoods. It comforts me to keep writing about Dave. It is helping me to stay strong... Guide me through this, Dave. When the rain stops, we will go to the cemetery, either today or tomorrow.  

25 August

Went to the cemetery this morning. Flowers from last week have faded, but it was lovely to see David B and Nelly's sunflower that they brought to Dave's site a few days ago... 

I put on a beautiful selection of flowers and tidied up, as it was raining yesterday... Saw that some animal has eaten/taken a small part of the cactus. How did they do it?

I stood there, praying and speaking with Dave, as always. Felt more at peace and stronger after talking to him. 

28 August

Walked all the way to Chancery Lane - one of our routes when we stayed near Barts last year. This is one of Dave's favourite walks, as there are always new and interesting things to see along the way. Met with Catherine at Maughan Library, King's College, to see artist Dylan Jonas Stone's exhibition 'Hand writing history: 200 years of personal diaries.' He is our friend Alexandra's brother. He collected over 200 diaries in the past forty years, from flea markets, car boot sales and online, etc. This collection even includes the artist's own diary when he was a child. 

The beautiful exhibition aside, both Catherine and I found the building and its interiors magnificent to look at.

It was so lovely to hear from Yuebai this afternoon. She's exploring South London and suggested a new route for my walks. She said there are a couple of old community centres that used to cater to the seamen working in the docklands back in the day, and a Finnish church with a sauna open to the public... "And if you fancy a long long long river walk, this could take you all the way to Deptford and there's definitely a long story to accompany the walk too," she said.  What a fantastic idea! 

30 August

Spent some time transcribing interviews and did some writing. Then walked all the way from Whitechapel to the West End. I thought that was the kind of challenge that Dave would love. I went to Wyndham's Theatre to see 'Next to Normal' (directed by Michael Longhurst and premiered in 2023 at the Donmar Warehouse; the musical transferred to Wyndham's Theatre this June). It was recommended to me by my recent Taiwanese visitor Mr Chen who went to see it during his stay in Britain and liked it.

The theatre was packed. When people came in, I was really hoping that the seat next to me will remain empty. Dave would love to sit there... As luck would have it, no one took that seat.

Most reviews talked about mental illness as the theme of the play. But for me, it is really about loss and grief - and a woman's journey of grieving. The performance was brilliant and moving. I empathised with Diana Goodman (actress Caissie Levy) all the way - her torment and waves of emotions. And I like Gabe, her son, whose name was only really pronounced right at the end. He was her ghost. And Gabe's actor Jack Wolfe's impassioned vocals were a powerful part of the rock opera. I knew Dave would thoroughly enjoy it...

1 September

Went to the cemetery this morning. The florist in Upminster started a conversation with me first time in months. "Who are you visiting, so often?" she asked.

"My partner," I said. 

"I'm sorry. It's tough, isn't it," she said sympathetically. "My parents are both in there [the cemetery]. I go to see them on their birthdays, Father's Day, Mother's Day. I've been doing it for sixteen years. A friend of mine said to me, 'they're not there, you know.' I said to her, 'It makes me feel better to go there.' That's why I do it."

"I go there because I want to make Dave's site look nice," I said to her. "To keep it nice."

She nodded with a smile, then added: "Also we want to let them know that we're still thinking about them."

4 September

Took the overground to Wandsworth Road this morning and then walked from there to WIP Space Studios some three miles away. Dave and I never ventured this far on our walks... Wandsworth, quite bleak, and lacks a centre of community...in my opinion. Not my cup of tea. Made me see how lucky I am to live in Whitechapel. "Let's see this as an adventure," I said to Dave. I was invited to see artist and curator Hamja Ahsan's exhibition 'My Brother is Back.'