Macmillan Aliens

I've met a lot of different people in my life.  They have ranged from the mind numbingly normal to the outright psychopathic, rich to poor, selfish to selfless.  In recent months I have come across what to me, was a completely unknown breed and it scares the hell out me because I think they must be aliens.  I have previously mentioned my respect for the medical crews in both France and England.  As far as I'm concerned, my bit of the cancer equation is easier than theirs because I didn't choose to devote my life (or as it happens, death) to it.  I don't choose to spend my time trying to repair it.  They do.  After spending a couple of years dealing with these people I was seriously impressed but thought I had an idea of what makes them tick.  The chance to cure or repair.  Despite my views and attitudes to cancer (which I have to concede can be a bit of a nuisance) I do observe and analyse the people who have helped me.  They are the good guys.
This all seemed straight forward until, up pop the bloody aliens!  Try this one.  You are a car mechanic for a Formula One racing team.  Other mechanics and engineers keep the car running during a race.  Yet more mechanics spend ages, repairing and tuning the car after each race and when it has the slightest problem.  And your job is?  When the car comes back smashed up - completely beyond repair, with the engine just ticking over and sounding like a 30 year old diesel lorry?  Yep, your job is to look after it with loving care until it finally packs up for good and is sent to the scrap yard.  Are you any good at your job?  Who the hell knows?  Nearly all your cars end up trashed!

I had heard of Macmillan nurses in abstract terms.  They look after people with cancer don't they?  Actually no.  Using what I assume is some form of alien technology they take away all the crap that is part of our life.  They help the hopelessly inept spend a part of their life, free from the tedious and mundane.  They ease.  They make things easier in any ways that they can.  One of their secrets is that they possess some kind of zap gun which makes beurocracy shrivel up and disappear.  They understand things which humans never could and they make you feel really good.  This time round in my illness we have had Close Encounters of the Third Kind with two of them.  It's more impressive than the film, believe me.  I have no idea what it is on their planet which gives them the ability to smile and be tranquil in the face of things which you and I can't handle, but thank God for it.  These are very special people.