#the sheriff hat is the new emperor's crown

[pjchatters]

Reblog this if you want Hermes, the best child to ever child, to be elected sheriff in the upcoming elections 💜💜💜

I BELIEVE IN HERMES SUPREMACY!!!

[arthropod-concoctions]

part 9 (final part)

Joel tried to resist the grip pulling him into the water, but found himself overwhelmed as his head was pulled under the surface. Images started to flash in his mind, some looking familiar to him, some not so much. The Mezalean Palace, in all its glory. A little house on a hill, burning to ashes. Jimmy- the Codfather- fleeing from a shaking machine with count fWhip. Jimmy- the Sheriff- shouting at him for stealing his hat. Running with an army of wolves, chasing people he didn't recognise. A rectangular edge surrounding all of it, the whole Universe contained within a-

You see it now, right? Joel heard himself saying. All of this is Lore. EVERYTHING is Lore! Without it, we wouldn't even exist!

The visions continued on. All the emperors jumping over a table, fighting over a crown. A figure covered in shadows summoning massive tentacles from the ground. Himself rapping to fWhip while jimmy beatboxes. He wasn't really beatboxing, the music was playing in a different

All of it was dizzying to Joel. Is this just what it's constantly like in your head? He said.

Yeah, pretty much, was the reply. I know everything that's ever happened. Cool, right?

This is a nightmare. I almost feel bad for you.

While still overwhelming, Joel was beginning to see some coherence in the flashes of vision. Twelve rulers, sitting around a campfire, ready to face the world. Joel wandering off, looking for a location to settle. Joel ignoring the nagging feeling tugging him towards the mesa; Jimmy had already claimed that land. How did he know that?

Feel bad? You shouldn't feel bad, you should be jealous. This doesn't bother me at all. The Lore fixed that weird feeling I had, and made me a perfect, handsome god on top of that!

But Joel had seen Joel's face in the fountain. The Lore was affecting him, even if he didn't notice it. And with visions of everything that had ever happened at his fingertips, Joel was beginning to get an understanding of how this had happened. Gradually, he managed to steer the visions so he could see the picture clearly.

The twelve original rulers, all dying or disappearing. The Universe reviving them one by one. The Universe trying to reincarnate someone that had never died, and succeeding. But not quite. A group call to discuss the start of a new season. Joel coming across a magical fountain. Joel jumping into the fountain, and feeling it fill the gaping hole in his soul with knowledge that could never properly fit inside. Joel emerging from the fountain with everything he'd ever wanted, and the knowledge that none of it was real.

Wait, how are you doing that? It's supposed to just wash over you, you can't just...

The Lore didn't fix you at all. You were never meant to exist like this. It was neither the king of Mezalea nor the god of Stratos speaking. A fractured mind couldn't possibly handle this state of being, but a whole one might. Joel reached out toward himself.

What? STOP THAT! Joel retreated, and the visions flew into disarray again. Joel sending messages to Sausage along with their child. Joel repeatedly coming up with new ways to make the same joke at Jimmy's expense. Joel never knowing why he did it, just that he was supposed to.

Face it, Joel. You don't have any of this under control. But at least you'll have it stop controlling you, if you'd just work with me here.

A moment of quiet. If there was one thing Joel didn't like, it was someone else being better than him at his own game. Two mirror images slowly coming together.

Let's fix this error. It was both the king of Mezalea and the god of Stratos speaking.

…

………

Joel lifted his head up out of the water, gasping for air. He breathed heavily for a few seconds until he remembered that, as a statue and as an immortal god, he was never at any actual risk of drowning. He stood up, and looked down at himself.

He was dressed in a toga coloured a regal purple. His skin was made of perfect terracotta, and his fingernails were white as quartz. He had a well-trimmed beard and a normal, respectable height. Nice, he thought to himself as he stepped onto the street.

Hermes had wandered towards the fountain, and was now looking at Joel with big eyes. “Hey Hermes,” Joel said as he picked the boy up, “D'you like the new look?” Hermes gestured towards him, and then towards the fountain of Lore. “You want to play in the fountain? Maybe later. Daddy's got some stuff to do now.” He kissed Hermes' forehead, then gently put him down again. The boy nodded, then ran back towards his house, jumping over the gaps in the street without a second thought.

Gosh, he's adorable. And I couldn't even recognise him earlier, Joel thought. Maybe lore isn't all bad. But there was something more important than Lore to think about right now: getting back to Jimmy. He'd made a promise, after all. He spread his wings and began flying the familiar route towards Tumble Town.

While taking off, he noticed the outskirts of Critter City from the corner of his eye. It really is a shame me and Lizzie aren't married anymore though, he thought. But he wasn't too upset about it. After all, he could always just get up and-

Flying into the valley of Tumble Town, Joel saw Jimmy pacing back and forth near the unfinished track. Looked like he hadn't made much progress since Joel departed. As he descended, Jimmy heard him approaching and looked up- and his face dropped. It occurred to Joel that Jimmy would have no idea of what just happened.

Joel touched down next to Jimmy. “Hey, Jim,” he said, and smiled to him. “I'm back!”

“You're back. You- what did you do? Why are you wearing his clothing now?” Jimmy didn't sound at all happy to see him.

“Well, I talked to myself, then had a fight with myself, then nearly drowned in a one block deep fountain... but the point is, I solved the conflict. It's all good now.”

Jimmy wasn't satisfied with that explanation. “Oh, you solved the conflict did you? But what about me, then? Have you made friends just to team up against me? Are you-” Jimmy abruptly interrupted himself, and tilted his head while looking at Joel, squinting. “Did you get taller?”

“Yes, I did. I also got shorter. Look, Jimmy, I don't think you understand what's happened. This,” he gestured at his own body, “Is the new and improved Joel. Not the old Joel, not the new and kind of broken Joel, but both of them fused together to form one, somewhat functional person.”

Jimmy was still squinting. “So, you're both the Joels fused together then?”

“Yep. And I'm still the god of Stratos, but... I haven't broken that promise I made. I'd like to also still be your friend. So, I wanted to apologise for all the mocking I've been doing.” Joel held out his hand towards Jimmy. “Maybe we can start over clean.”

Jimmy still seemed skeptical. “And... you're not gonna call me a toy anymore?”

“Nope. I'll even take down the alien from the hill.” It was a good joke, but there comes a point where even a good joke gets stretched too thin. He'd have to come up with some new jokes, but that should probably wait a while.

“Well...” Jimmy cracked a smile, and took Joel's hand with his own. “Alright then. We'll give it a try.”

And as they shook hands, Joel's broken heart was finally starting to mend.

(ch 1 | ch 8)

[thedo0zyslider]

Old King of Mesa's Past

Empires smp fic, 1k words. AO3 Link

When Jimmy woke up that morning he wasn’t expecting..whatever the hell the day would soon bring him. 

The day started out normal of course, most of his weird days started out normal. It was never Jimmy, or his beloved Tumble Town, that made them abnormal. Iit was always the other empires who infected his life with their weirdness. And “other empires” usually meant Joel and Sausage. Though Oli did occasionally pop by. But Oli wasn’t only bringing weirdness into Jimmy’s life, he was just a weird guy in general, and every empire got their own little taste of Olipeilgo strangeness. 

 Today, and by extension everyday that week, seemed to be both a Joel and Sausage weirdness day. It started originally when Jimmy had started offering other emperors vacation homes in his empire. And no matter what Fwhip said it was totally not a scheme to get other people to build his empire for him. Absolutely not. Maybe part of it was Jimmy’s desire to actually have people in his empty town, but he wouldn’t admit that to anyone, not even himself. 

Now to be fair, Jimmy had invited the weirdness into his life this time. He knew Sausage was frankly one of the best builders the world had ever seen, and he wanted some of that glorious Sanctuary architecture in his own empire. So he’d invited Sausage over to build his own little vacation home. His fellow emperor had done quite a great job, somehow even better than Jimmy expected. He made the house look like it was straight from Sanctuary, while still fitting in with the rustic, wild west aesthetic of Tumble Town. It made Jimmy’s own builds look like, well, shit in comparison if you asked him. 

When he’d placed his third vacant plot down, Jimmy knew that Joel had to build there. It was the perfect location, isolated from all the other homes in the surrounding area by a small section of water. It was like the sky god’s own empire in the sky, away from everybody and kind of a pain to access. Jimmy also thought it could be a chance to strengthen his newfound friendship with Joel. He much preferred what they had now to the constant teasing that used to define their relationship. 

When he invited Joel over to be build he expected something more…Stratos-esque. Jimmy had expected something made of quartz and gold, not a small castle made of terracotta and decorated with azalea bushes. 

“Joel?” The Sheriff called, pushing his hat up and keeping the brim of it out of his vision. “Joel?”

“Jimmy!” Joel's voice came from inside the new building. The god’s tone sounded…friendlier. Usually Joel greeted him with a flat voice and blank expression, like he cared not for the Sheriff's existence. Like Jimmy was just a mere mortal beneath his feet. Jimmy tried to ignore it. Maybe he was in a good mood because of Hermes or something. 

“Uh, ya know Joel i love the new building, i really do, but what’s with the sudden style change?” Jimmy asked, waiting for his ally to emerge from the vacation home

“Whaddya mean, mate?” Joel asked, finally leaving his new house. “It Mezalean style-” The brunette cut himself off at the sight of the Sheriff, and Jimmy himself was quite surprised by the other man's appearance. 

The God was, apparently no longer a god? Joel had gone from being about twelve feet tall, though he shrunk himself a bit for convenience sake, to a more normal height. Jimmy guessed he was now about five foot nine inches. He was also no longer wearing his toga, now in a bright purple suit jacket, with a green sash across it and bright gold accents. He was also wearing pants, which is something Jimmy had rarely ever seen Joel wear because well, the toga. Joel also now wore white gloves, another odd choice. He couldn't really summon lightning from his hands without ruining the gloves, now could he. The green stripe in the brunette's hair was now slightly hidden by a crown. It was probably the one thing of the whole outfit that made the most sense. Joel would love to have a crown for himself. It was one of the weirdest outfits Jimmy had ever seen, and Sausage had a lot of weird things in his wardrobe. 

Some part of Jimmy, a part buried deep down, was flooded with nostalgia. He felt a very brief wave of familiarity at the now shorter man in front of him. It was like he was seeing an old friend he hadn’t seen in years, hundreds and maybe even thousands of years. The man in front of him felt like an old friend that part of his soul had been longing to see. 

“What. Are. You. Wearing” Jimmy was brought out of his thoughts by strange Joel questioning his own outfit. 

“Uh? My usual outfit?” Jimmy responded. It was more of a question than an answer. 

“No, no, no.” Shorter Joel said. Jimmy had decided he was going to call the other man shorter Joel. It made the most sense to his brain. “You’re normal outfit is that green suit, with slime all over it and that stupid cod head.” 

“I’m sorry? Cod head?” The Sheriff was absolutely bewildered now. “Like a dead fish?”

“Well I don't know if it's a dead fish, you never specified.” Shorter Joel retorted. “Ya know, you’re the codfather, my best friend, my brother-in-law.” 

“You’re what?” Jimmy exclaimed.

“Lizzie? My wife, your seabling?’ The strange person pressed further, only confusing Jimmy more. This was not his Joel. 

“Lizzie, you mean the cat? And what’s a seabling?” Jimmy spat, getting a tad frustrated. Who was this guy? “You’re usually a god.” 

“A God? Damn, I wish.” That was the most Joel thing this Joel look alike had said the whole time, minus the fact that he was very clearly not a god. Jimmy was fumbling for an answer, staring at the other man. He was really trying to ignore more longing and nostalgia that had come on when the strange man had mentioned the cod head he supposedly wore. 

In the time that Jimmy was silent, the strange alternate Joel seemed to notice the mesa looked different. “What the bloody hell is all that?’ he asked, pointing in the direction of many more Tumble Town structures. 

“It’s Tumble Town, my empire.” Jimmy answered flatly, giving the other an unimpressed look. 

“What the devil is a Tumble Town? And your empire? Where’s Mezalea” The shorter scrunched up his nose in disdain. “Where’s my palace?” 

“Listen dude,” Jimmy began, already out of patience. “I don’t know what a Mezalea is, or where your palace is, but it was certainly never here. I think you got the wrong Mesa, buddy.”

“Apparently.” Joel snorted. 

“How’d you even get here?’ Jimmy asked, a little bit curious.  

“I dunno mate. I was just going about my day and suddenly I woke up over there,” Shorter Joel pointed to a cave near the house he’d built. “In that cave in a small pool of water.” 

“I just…felt like I had to build this house, so I did.” The brunette finished, shrugging his soldiers. “Honestly I'm as baffled as you are mate.” 

“Nice to know we’re both confused.” Jimmy sighed. “I didn’t even know there was some sort of magic pond here.”

“Well, you learn something new everyday.” Jimmy laughed a little at that. Maybe Shorter Joel wasn’t so bad. He still wanted his Joel back though. “You think if you, i don’t know, got back in that pool you’d leave?” 

“Maybe. I’m gonna find out too. This empire is much too…brown for my liking.” Shorter Joel scoffed at one of Jimmy’s worse builds. “I prefer my own empire.”

“Was that a compliment or an insult?” The Sheriff glared at the shorter man. Maybe new Joel wasn’t that great actually. 

“A compliment, you’re a bit better at building than my Jimmy.” The strange man called over his shoulder. He didn’t even say goodbye, just walking towards the cave he’d pointed out earlier. 

The Sheriff made an annoyed huff, watching him go until he could no longer see the bright purple of Shorter Joel’s suit jacket. He hoped that magic pool or whatever worked, because he was not going to go check on it. This was a problem Jimmy wanted nothing to do with, no siree. He could leave weird, dimension hopping Joel’s to Sausage, the actual dimension hopper of the server.

The magic pool of water did seem to work though, as a few hours later his Joel was back. The god was talking about that Mezalea place his shorter counterpart had mentioned. Jimmy guessed they had swapped places somehow. He kept it at that, not wanting to think about alternate versions of himself and his fellow emperors. Especially not one where he was related to Joel of all people. It seemed like one of those topics that would give him an existential crisis and a headache. 

Speaking of headaches, the sky god gave him one very quickly. He was simply not going to accept that he was short in some reality. Jimmy took over an hour trying to explain the day's events to him, mostly because Joel had started an argument and Jimmy, ever prevocable, had argued back. 

At least he got a unique looking build out of it. 

[dangerouslysmartslime]

My Little Pony The New Generation

Seems like the things that remembering of what happened in Generation 4 waws the olden times where the pony kinds were friends and didn’t use magic against each other. IE Generation 4 of the Friendship Pope. That the main character is a girl obsessed with the era of Generation. A lighthouse and Sunny will know, you stand up for what you believe in. Show everypony that we’re friends. That maybe today is that day! A father that loves his daughter with all his heart~! And the two colts that she was playing with, one of them she will see as an adult on her adventures as shown by the trailers and the other had the depressing note of wanting to be Sheriff, and everyone knows that Police Officers are reviled for keeping people in line, especially colored by their own bigotry, so insert the “Lois and Clark” Yikes. Sunny and her father write a letter to the unicorns and pegasi only to tell the story of Generation 4 to Sunny. A friend to fly around or float things, why can’t we be friends anymore? That is a great question, but we’ll figure it out together. And the drawings that she has as well as all the things she has of Generation 4 is so adorable!! Only to flash to when she’s an adult and the movie actually starts~! Sunny gets herself dressed with the same sort of pins I use on my hat. She gets ready her bag and she looks at pictures of her father in a way that mean it seems like he’s dead… And the movie goes into the first musical number. “Canter Logic” She goes on a ice cream run for a job, only for that colt who said he’s be a Sheriff to chase after her… And steal somepony’s milkshake and cookies… She gives a balloon to someone who wanted one, only for that one colt to continue being the worst pony in the movie so far in terms of douchbaggery. She is going and showing her enthusiasm for life while the colt continues to chase after her cleaning up all the kindness she wishes to do and come to University. A squad of critters like Fluttershy only he doesn’t actually like it. Annual presentation at Canterlot. Hey, come on! Sprout was actually just doing his job when Hitch was giving him orders. “Every year you sneak in and every year you try” As a friend not as a Sheriff, don’t? Someone litters and Sprout is continuing to be an asshole so I was right. So Sunny is mischevious only to find that this is a factory much like the memed on Rainbow Factory… Canter Logic is Phyllis Clovery, the mother of Sprout, and the actual biggest asshole. Oh wait, she actually is the main antagonist because she’s a bigot. Yep, markets her products for bigotry and wha… Ant-mind reading? And keeping eye on the sky doesn’t make sense… The earth pony balloon escape pack doesn’t work. Only for Sunny to try to protest it and she does it in a dumb way and her friend who is the Sheriff stops it by pulling the plug. “Aren’t you tired of being scared all the time? The truth is, we’re not in danger! We don’t need any of this Canter Logic junk!” Just imagine if you had a friend who could fly or do magic. That everything you hear is wrong when they could be friends and still could be! And “Phyllis is still a bigot.” To uphold it? Everypony includes Pegasi and Unicorns, “Then prove it” means she’s going to be go on an adventure. And the one friend that she has is an asshole to her because due to propaganda he says that it’s just an old filly story concocted by her father. She then looks to the sky and mourns her father once again, wishing he was here. Only for… Izzy Moonbow the Unocnr meets Sunny and all the bigots (IE everyone except Sunny) panics as the bigots… Really? That seems a little harsh. Well yeah, they’re bigots, what do you expect Izzy! Izzy plays it like a game of hopscotch only to get trapped by a trap because she was looking at Terminator Judgment Day. Hitch then lectures her. So, you’re named Sunny? Bye! Nice to meet you now! Hitch acts like he’s the only sane man, but in reality Izzy is just as enthusiastic as Sunny as being a silly dork. Nooo, I can’t make it float but I can open cans! Tada! No magic…  So the bigots keep being bigots and they flee. No magic? But we did have magic and that was many moons ago and everyone is racist because the magic leaves. Unicorn with no magic and everyone is a bigot. Earth ponies have a lot of bigoted stories while only 3 stories unicorns. What if they don’t! And then there’s the musical number 2. Neat… Two folks becoming friends who are looking out for each other like Sunny is friggin friendship pope with Pinkie Pie. So they get an apple to have a snack and continue trotting along to try to get to the land of Pegasi. Hitch is the “perfect guy” in terms of taking care of himself and Sprout is now the Interim Sheriff. Still think Phyllis is the villain. Only to find that yes, everyone is bigoted against each other because they think everyone else did something bad. And… Can Pegasi not fly? No, the butch pegasus is here “there’s no way we could, there’s no way we could!” The shield is.. Can you fly to the moon? Well I do like sneakers. And then modern Americana appears in Zephyr Heights… Royal bash for Queen Haven and Princess Pip the influencer. Of course… Pip Pip Hooray? Pegasi do have a Castle, and it even looks like they stole Canterlot and renamed it. And… Both of the Pegasi are royalty. Earth Pony and Unicorn in Zephyr Heights, and no, not an attack ya silly. And Hitch goes after them and… Sprout is here but people are revolting? Wait, no they aren’t. “We need a real Sheriff!” Only for him to get all fearmongerin. I see… Whispering danger danger.. Generation 1 is shown… “Follow me mindlessly!” Angry Mob ANGRY ANGRY. Influencer advertisments and… “We haven’t seen a single pony flying except the royal family. Only for a princess to.. Just call me Zip.Izzy Moonbow. Important about magic? How does your work? The unicorns lost theirs. No magic. “Well, that changes things. Her father’s journal, and that star is actually like Twilight Sparkle’s journal. “Only royals can fly because for some reason they have magic. Nicorn hair and Pegasi! Hitch is looking for them only to find that the Pegasi captured them. When unicorns and Earth Ponies visited Zephyr Heights and the Wonderbolts were seen in a picture. The truth is they can’t fly either but just faking by… Wires and good lighting… A “ridiculous lie.” To… Soar using a fan. A bright sparkle, says Izzy. Canterlot’s old Stained Glass. It’s seen right there and now each one is placed in order, fitting. The Crystals go together united. So if they put them back together magic would return… The unicorn crystal Bridlewood is had. The Queen never takes her crown off… Swap real crown with decoy. Stealthy and stealing the crown. Paying a guest a visit and Pip is told. No one can fly, it is just a stage show… Because of course, Pip is just an influencer using a stage show and of course aother song… While Sunny and Moonbow are doing the plot~… But the dog happens, where the small dog is like a guard dog. And Hitch is also finding them, then the recording staff is like “Prisoners have escaped!” And Hitch is put on stage… “What is happening. The Royals are revealed to not be able to fly either, and they accidentally drop the Crystal… “Arresting you and saving you.” The Queen’s daughter, oh the Sheriff just became detective. The models of the characters look so much like the toys, Pip and Hitch join the party! Meanwhile… Canter Logic creates war machines complete with Sprout sounding like Vader when he’s really just drinking a milkshake. “Just make it work, okay!” “My town mommy” And that he is “Now Emperor” From Defense to Offense. “All thanks to encouragement” Hitch and Pip whining about being in the party. Look, once everyone gets magic back they’ll be heroes! Crystal clear and he deodorant have his badge. Between you an d me, the badge was creating an unhealthy power dynamic. Fair point. And they start giving up at a bridge being broken, only for Izzy opening the entrance because she knows the way. Breaking open a tree using her horn. They make a fire only for Hitch to be a whiny man lighting a fire “come on, don’t be a hero dude, just come here by the fire.” And they’re good to be a team, just like the Mane 6 of Generation 4. Only for Izzy to look down that the idea of being together is the best thing to happen, that getting friends is better than just getting magic. From Sunny there was that friends in Maritime Bay. That someday they’d prove that all ponies are meant to be friends. That Hitch wants to do his part, “what do we have to lose, right!” Not far from all the SIGNS OF DEATH LIKE THIS IS THE EVERFREE FOREST. “The Villa Izzy~” And all the silly things that she made like Izzy’s friendship bracelets and a tea set… Only for Izzy to be sad for not having a tea party and… A glow up? Although they’re difference races they should unite like the ancient politics of the Friendship Pope~! Comes another song. And it was a fun song so I sang along. Unicorns are very superstitious as to have magic, feather, wing, and mayonnaises. No forbidden words like Mayonnaise. The Unicorn Crystal is owned by Alphabettle, and he can smell fear. “Tea” Hold, the milk, quite the game player I see, why, do you play? I don’t play I win?” Just Dance! Both ponies agree, best out of three! Only need to win one out three for Sunny. Round 3… Here that sunny, feel the Rhythm take you over! I’m feeling it, go Sunny! And she wins with some hype from Pip! Only for the horn to fall off! And a Unicorn! Which you knew already! No, stop… No, don’t. It’s time to run… No pony has magic, but we’re here to bring it back! It can sound unbelievable, but trying is best.  But nooo she needs the 2 out of 3. SHE NEEDS THE 2 out of 3!!! Ye, they don’t have to fight! Sprout makes a tank and he cackles menacingly. That they can be separated by gear and distrust, or there can be friendship and love between the races, like her father. Like her loving father. SO they unite and the reincarnation of the Friendship Pope. The reincarnation of the Friendship Pope has brought the Magic of Friendship to Equestria again.

[isadomna]

Queen Katherine set out from Greenwich, with her husband and six hundred archers dressed in long, white, wide-sleeved gabardine coats and caps, on 15 June 1513. They travelled in small stages south towards Dover. There in the castle overlooking the sea, Katherine was formally appointed Queen Governor of the Realm. She was aged about 28 and was, by then, vastly experienced in her own right as a diplomat, princess and queen. Her upbringing in Spain at the side of her mother, Queen Isabella of Castile, had coloured her childhood with high politics and war.

As soon as her husband set sail for the English port of Calais, from where he was finally to launch his campaign against the French, she was to rule in his place or, rather, in his name. She could raise armies, appoint sheriffs, approve most church appointments and spend money exactly as she wished. Henry declared that he was leaving the English people in the care of a woman whose ‘honour, excellence, prudence, forethought and faithfulness’ could not be doubted. They, in turn, were instructed to obey her every command. A small council was left behind to advise her. With power now in her hands, it was time to say goodbye. Katherine and her ladies ‘made such sorrow for the departing of their lords and husbands, that it was great dolor [pain] to behold’. Most of the army was already across the other side of the Channel.

Governing England in Henry’s absence now occupied her days. There were felons to be pardoned, prebends, canons and bailiffs to be appointed, lands and annuities to be handed out, the estates of the recently deceased countess of Somerset to be dealt with and a long-running administrative spat between the archbishop of Canterbury and the bishop of Winchester to be resolved. She also, from a distance, dealt with the affairs of Calais, in Henry’s rearguard. Letters, patents, grants and writs now carried ‘teste Katerina Anglie Regina’ (‘witnessed by Catherine, Queen of England’) rather than the ‘Teste me ipso’ (‘I have witnessed this’) of Henry. She signed them ‘Katherine [or Katherina] the Qwene’. 

Katherine had pressed for war, but she was still worried that her glory-seeking husband would behave recklessly, placing himself in unnecessary danger. Shortly after he had sailed she wrote to his almoner, Thomas Wolsey, anxiously begging for weekly letters to reassure her that her hot-headed husband was safe. She also wrote to her former sister-in-law Margaret of Austria, who was now regent of the Netherlands, begging her to send a doctor to be at hand for her husband. Katherine felt safer once Margaret’s father, the Emperor Maximilian – basically serving as a paid mercenary but still a far more experienced fighter than Henry – appeared at the scene of battle. Her hope now, she told Wolsey, was that ‘with his good counsel, his grace [Henry] shall not adventure himself so much as I was afraid of before’.

In August and September, Queen Katherine was faced with an invasion from the Scots, led by her brother-in-law James IV, who was married to Henry’s sister Margaret Tudor. James had threatened war with England if Henry went to war with France. Henry even recruited his sister to try to persuade her husband not to invade England while he was away in France. At the same time, Anne of Brittany, Queen of France was writing James, asking him to be her knight in shining armor and attack England. In the end, against the advice of his councilors, James decided to attack England. In August of 1513, James IV’s herald presented King Henry VIII with a written declaration of war. The king of Scotland was actually excommunicated by the Pope for breaking the Treaty of Perpetual Peace with England.

Katherine started preparing in July, as soon as news reached her that James IV of Scotland was mustering a large army. Early in August she demanded to know why the mayor and sheriffs of Gloucester had not responded to her letters asking how many men and horses they could supply. ‘News from the Borders show that the king of Scots means war,’ she said. There was no time for dallying. She ordered them to answer within fifteen days. In mid-August Katherine wrote light-heartedly to Wolsey asking him to tell Henry that ‘all his subjects be very glad, I thank God, to be busy with the Scots, for they take it for [a] pastime’. Katherine was not intimidated. She relished the challenge coming her way and had thrown herself fully into organising England’s defence. ‘My heart is very good to it,’ she said excitedly in a letter to Wolsey signed nine days before James led his army of up to thirty thousand men across the River Tweed. One of his first actions was to attack and take Norham Castle, belonging to the bishop of Durham. James had to be stopped before he marched farther south. 

Surrey and his sons, Edmund and Thomas Howard, were in position by the beginning of September; their army gathered near Newcastle ready to march toward the enemy. Sir Thomas Lovell had another army at Nottingham; Katherine and her council had gathered a third in the south just in case the worst happened and James somehow got through the other two. The Queen was well prepared. She had been busy and not just, as she coyly told Wolsey, ‘making standards, banners and badges’. Katherine sent ten thousand pounds, a considerable sum of money, north to be guarded (and, presumably, used for war expenses) by the Abbot of St Mary, near York. She also sent artillery, gunners and a fleet of eight ships, including the Mary Rose, which carried additional troops, towards the Scottish border. Grain, pipes of beer, rope, cables and suits of light armour were also shipped north. For her first line of defence she would rely on the earl of Surrey and the troops he was raising in the northern counties, together with those that had arrived by sea. James had a large army, however, backed by some recently delivered and formidable modern French artillery. 

Documents were drawn up, meanwhile, to declare Scotsmen living in England to be ‘enemies’; but that all Scotsmen that have married English women and have children may remain. All others would have their goods seized and their persons banished under penalty of their lives. All Frenchmen to have their goods forfeited and be committed to prison if they dwell near the sea coast; or else, if they dwell inland, to find sureties. Henry VIII  – flush from his minor triumphs in France – decided to send Katherine one of his more illustrious captives, the duke of Longueville. Katherine was about to set off northwards towards the Scottish threat herself. The duke and six others with him would just have to stay in the Tower of London for a few weeks.

As the Scottish threat grew, in a letter dated 2 September to Thomas Wolsey in France, Katherine revealed that she was ready to head northwards. These short notes show that Katherine personally led what was left of the king’s artillery towards the North. In early September Katherine wrote to the Great Wardrobe (the central store of royal clothing and equipment behind Baynard’s Castle in London) demanding delivery of banners, standards and pennants for those who would march north with her. A herald and a pursuivant, dressed up in the coats of arms of England, were also to travel with her. It would be the herald’s job to deliver any formal battle challenges or other messages she might care to send the Scottish king. She took 1500 suits of armour, called Almain Rivets, on her journey – all part of her direct responsibility for organising England’s deep defence. Finally, so she might display a suitable amount of magnificence, six trumpeters with their trumpet banners were to accompany her. 

Katherine began to move north with a body of troops variously described as ‘a great power’ or a ‘numerous force’. At this time she also ordered up a golden ‘headpiece with crown’, and had both a light sallet helmet and a rounded, broad-brimmed shapewe helmet (rather like an armoured sun hat) especially garnished – presumably with gold or jewels. There is no record of her being seen in armour.  ‘Our queen also took the field against the Scots with a numerous force one hundred miles from here,’ reported a London-based Venetian. Peter Martyr, Katherine’s old professor, heard that “Queen Katherine, in imitation of her mother Isabel and imbued by the spirit of her father … made a splendid oration to the English captains, told them to be ready to defend their territory, that the Lord smiled upon those who stood in defence of their own, and they should remember English courage excelled that of all other nations”.

In the invasion crises of the previous reign, Henry VII had gathered his power at Kenilworth castle. In 1513, nearby Warwick was the destination of the queen, her guns and likely muster point for Lovell’s troops. Instead of seeking refuge in the secure Tower of London and letting her husband’s councillors take the lead, Katherine’s decisive action moved her closer to danger and confirmed her role as national commander. She would not have been involved in any battle that might have occurred had the Scots broken through on the border, but her determination to be nearby to organise the country’s stretched resources sent all the right signals to the people she temporarily ruled.

Prior to Sean Cunningham’s find, historians had only known that Katherine was in Buckingham, around 60 miles north of London, when she received word of Surrey’s victory. But the new evidence suggests that the queen intended to travel further north, if not directly into battle like Joan of Arc, then at least into the vicinity of combat. James IV’s army was routed at Flodden Field, near the Northumberland village of Branxton. The fighting, which began in the afternoon of September 9, was ferocious. Courageous men on both sides fell in bloody hand-to-hand combat, but gradually the tide turned away from the Scots to leave the English in control of the field. Many of the Scots, or so we read in English accounts, were so “vengeable and cruel in their fighting” that their opponents preferred to kill them rather than capture them alive, contemptuously leaving the corpses naked on the ground. Among the dead was the king: James struggled like a man possessed only to fall within a few feet of the great Surrey himself. The flower of the nobility died with him; so did the Archbishop of St. Andrews, two bishops, and two abbots  and perhaps another eleven thousand or so of the more humble. English losses are estimated to have numbered about one thousand.

The impact of Flodden and its consequences was immediately felt in England. Surrey wrote at once to the Queen, informing her of the victory, and sent her James's banner and the bloody coat he had died in as trophies; Katherine duly sent them on to Henry by a herald. The body taken to London, which had been suitably bowelled, embalmed and cered. Then she gave devout thanks to God for Surrey's success, and returned in triumph to Richmond. On the way, she stayed the night at Woburn Abbey, and it was here that she took time to write to her husband:

Sir, My Lord Howard hath sent me a letter open to your Grace, within one of mine, by the which you shall see at length the great Victory that our Lord hath sent your subjects in your absence; and for this cause there is no need herein to trouble your Grace with long writing, but, to my thinking, this battle hath been to your Grace and all your realm the greatest honor that could be, and more than you should win all the crown of France; thanked be God of it, and I am sure your Grace forgetteth not to do this, which shall be cause to send you many more such great victories, as I trust he shall do. My husband, for hastiness, with Rougecross I could not send your Grace the piece of the King of Scots coat which John Glynn now brings. In this your Grace shall see how I keep my promise, sending you for your banners a king’s coat. I thought to send himself unto you, but our Englishmens’ hearts would not suffer it. It should have been better for him to have been in peace than have this reward. All that God sends is for the best. My Lord of Surrey, my Henry, would fain know your pleasure in the burying of the King of Scots’ body, for he has written to me so. With the next messenger your Grace’s pleasure may be herein known. And with this I make an end, praying God to send you home shortly, for without this no joy here can be accomplished; and for the same I pray, and now go to Our Lady of Walsingham that I promised so long ago to see. At Woburn the 16th of September. I send your Grace herein a bill found in a Scotsman’s purse of such things as the French King sent to the said King of Scots to make war against you, beseeching you to send Mathew hither as soon as this messenger comes to bring me tidings from your Grace. Your humble wife and true servant, Katharine.

Queen Katherine tactfully credits the victory against the Scots to Henry himself. She understood Henry and his desire for glory. Even while engaged in the Scottish campaign, she never forgot to congratulate him fulsomely on all that he did. According to many historians, Katherine had the intention of sending James's body (some even say "head") as a trophy to her husband, but the Englishmen thought it was too crude so she settled his bloodstained coat instead. I think Katherine’s letter is misinterpreted. In my opinion Katherine wanted to send James as a prisoner to France, in exchange for Henry sending her the Duke of Longueville – that’s what she meant by saying she intended to send the king’s person, but the stout ‘English hearts’ would not stand for it (and killed James) so she sent his bloodied coat instead. Katherine did not even dare to order the burial of James’s corpse without Henry’s agreement. She sent a message to Queen Margaret, offering her consolation for a husband killed by her own soldiers. ‘The queen of England, for the love she bears the queen of Scots, would gladly send a servant to comfort her,’ it said. Soon Friar Langley was on his way.

The island of Britain was, temporarily and for the first time, in the hands of two women. Katherine governed England as regent for her husband. It was her task to administer the victory. The newly widowed Margaret ruled in Scotland as protector for her one-year-old son, James V. The infant king had been crowned shortly after his father’s death at what, because of the tears shed for the dead left behind at Flodden, became known as the ‘Mourning Coronation’. Within a fortnight of Flodden, the talk was already of a truce. Katherine’s commanders in the north wrote recommending an end to the war. Many of the remaining Scottish nobles, however, were hankering for revenge and Katherine was asked to decide whether troops should be permanently billeted at certain points near the border. The situation was by no means stable and war could have flared again at any time. 

Katherine continued to oversee negotiations for a truce with the Scots, and showed great skill in her diplomatic messages to her man on the spot, the bishop of Durham. Langley acted as an intermediary in the negotiations for a truce that was not finally signed until the following February. At the same time, Katherine instructed Lord Dacre to assert King Henry’s right to become guardian of his nephew, the young James V of Scotland – potentially re-opening the troubled English claim to overlordship of Scotland. Henry VIII also did his bit to improve relations by begging the pope for permission to bury James IV at St Paul’s, even though the latter had been excommunicated for breaking a papally sanctioned treaty of nonaggression with England.   

Katherine oversaw the unwinding of the war machine, paying soldiers’ and sailors’ wages and signing off on the costs of artillery, shipping and transport. Even while at Walsingham, where she would have walked the last mile to the Virgin Mary’s shrine barefoot, she still had to oversee the day-to-day running of a country where domestic worries began to take precedence. The plague, for example, was killing three or four hundred Londoners a day. Although proud of the Scottish defeat and her own performance as regent, Katherine wanted Henry home. There would be “noo joye” here without him, she confided. On 21 October Henry sailed from Calais to Dover. He rushed eagerly home to Katherine, riding ‘in post’ to Richmond ‘where was such a loving meeting that every creature rejoiced’. They were back together again, this time as a pair of young conquerors. 

There had been rumours that she was pregnant and had lost a child while Henry was away. Now was a good time to start again. According to Julia Fox we cannot know whether those ambassadors who stated that she gave birth in the autumn of 1513 were right, but it is doubtful. Certainly no baby or miscarriage is mentioned in her correspondence, and it seems unlikely that she would have risked a much-wanted child by accompanying the army from London. But her mother, Isabella I of Castile, despite being pregnant rode with the troops.  

At that stage of her life, as Henry’s regime sent thousands of English soldiers to fight on the Scottish border, in France and at sea, Katherine was an ideal partner for her dynamic and aggressive husband. The chamber books and related papers can still offer much to deepen our understanding of how Henry and Katherine’s marriage developed, changed and soured over the following 25 years – a relationship that came to have a powerful influence on the course of the nation’s history.  

Sources:

Catherine of Aragon, Henry’s Spanish Queen by Giles Tremlett

Sister Queens: The Noble, Tragic Lives of Katherine of Aragon and Juana, Queen of Castile by Julia Fox

Letters and Papers, Foreign and Domestic, of the Reign of Henry VIII, Volumen 1 by J. S. Brewer

https://tudorsandotherhistories.wordpress.com/2015/09/09/a-field-of-blood-and-glory-flodden-field/

https://thefreelancehistorywriter.com/2012/10/27/the-battle-of-flodden/

https://blog.nationalarchives.gov.uk/katherine-of-aragon-and-an-army-for-the-north-in-1513/

https://www.smithsonianmag.com/history/when-catherine-aragon-led-englands-armies-victory-over-scotland-180975982/#.X4wBqV0fcr4.twitter

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Bob Marley | Oliver Sacks | Sergei Rachmaninoff

Bob Marley (6 February 1945 - 11 May 1981)

“The truth is, everyone is going to hurt you. You just got to find the ones worth suffering for.” 

I mentioned in a post I did a while back I would return to talk about Rachmaninoff - in that particular post I didn’t mention the disease he died from, melanoma. Another musical legend died from the same disease, one who wasn’t from the path of classical music but reggae - a genre which he popularised on a worldwide level with his band, The Wailers  which spanned a decade before he embarked on his solo career. Bob Marley was a unique figure in the musical industry with his Rastafarian beliefs permeating into his music and lifestyle. Rastafarianism centred around the Emperor Haile Selassie I of Ethiopia and pan-Africanism. Among smoking marijuana and dreadlocks - based on Samson in the Bible which prohibits the cutting of hair, the Rastafarian movement had their own unique traditions including one that would lead to the death of Bob Marley. Among his music and his propulsion of Jamaican culture on a worldwide level, Bob Marley was also a keen footballer which may be the most pleasant surprise in his biography. He relocated to Bloomsbury, London during which he recorded his aptly named magnum opus, Exodus. The spiritual and laid back nature of the album as an extension of Marley’s life which came after an assassination attempt in Jamaica. The album is a swirling drug trip of politics, religion and sex where it has earned its place in history in its 40th year. As with many musical artists that entered the public consciousness, Bob Marley’s time on Earth was tragically short - he was only 36. And 

Bob Marley performing I Shot The Sheriff 

Oliver Sacks (9 July 1933 – 30 August 2015)

“If we wish to know about a man, we ask 'what is his story--his real, inmost story?'--for each of us is a biography, a story. Each of us is a singular narrative, which is constructed, continually, unconsciously, by, through, and in us--through our perceptions, our feelings, our thoughts, our actions; and, not least, our discourse, our spoken narrations. Biologically, physiologically, we are not so different from each other; historically, as narratives--we are each of us unique.”

Oliver Sacks is known as the Poet Laureate of Medicine. It’s easy to see why. His books are portals into how he approached medicine and his patients, always placing them at the forefront of everything he did. His writing style resonates with his empathy and compassion seeing his patients as equals and teachers. I’d highly recommend his most famous works The Man Who Mistook His Wife For A Hat and Awakenings as entry points to the writings of Oliver Sacks. Robin Williams (mentioned in an earlier post) played Sacks in the film adaptation of Awakenings in perhaps his most tender role. It was actually reading The Man Who Mistook His Wife For A Hat a few years ago that inspired me to start this blog. The miscellaneous collection of patient led stories and case studies gave an otherwise abstract disease an added depth and emotional resonance. Sacks was able to tap into the human side of medicine when in recent years it has become so regimented and industrialised and from a recent patient’s words ‘heartless’. Sacks reminds me of the duty of a doctor, and that’s the duty of a human being. Never for one moment does Sacks forget that he himself could be the patient in front of him, and neither does he take it for granted that anything less than the best he can do is enough for them. Losing Oliver Sacks to me was like losing one of the old inspirational classical doctors of another time - smart, eccentric but always caring. How much better the world would be if everyone took their time, observed, listened and cared like Oliver Sacks?

Oliver Sacks in a PBS interview in 1989

Sergei Rachmaninoff (20 March 1873 - 28 March 1943)

Music is enough for a lifetime - but a lifetime is not enough for music

Rachmaninoff by the time of his death had been diagnosed with advanced melanoma. The biography of a great composer no doubt is dramatic with its tumultuous events and tragedies and Rachmaninoff is no different. The death of his sisters growing up in 19th century Russia, his struggling academic grades, a forbidden love with his neighbour, Vera, the death of his idol, Tchaikovsky from cholera all had a bruising impact on the young man and had shaped his music to the masterpieces we hear now. One piece of his biography is especially revealing of his character, the failure of his Symphony No.1 which was widely panned by critics led Rachmaninoff to a deep depression that lasted 3 years. Where he had placed his hard work and precious time into creating his symphony only for it to trashed by critics which led him down a path of endless self-criticism exacerbating his depression. It was only with the help of Nikolai Dahl and his hypnotherapy and psychotherapy sessions and adjustments to his personal life including sleep regulation, appetite and support from close friends and family that Rachmaninoff began to recover from his ‘self-imposed exile’ which culminated in probably the most beautiful piece of art from Russia, his Piano Concerto No.2. Rachmaninoff began to enjoy his success he had striven for so long during a happy time in his life with his marriage to his wife, Satina. This time also came with great turmoil especially with the 1905 revolution but his loyalty and love for his motherland obliged him to stay when there were enthusiastic offerings from America. Further tragedy struck when his close friend during his time at the Moscow Conservatory, Alexander Scriabin died which was quickly followed by Taneyev, another friend and finally Rachmaninoff’s own father. Further political turmoil came with the 1917 revolution (see the classic film Dr Zhivago as a reference to the horrors afflicted) which placed Rachmaninoff in an dire situation citing his aristocratic birth in the midst of a Bolshevik regime that began to seize land ‘for the people’. Here he gained permits to Scandinavia where he spent the duration of the war working as a concert pianist where he worked tirelessly to improve his technique. During his increasing financial woes, he eventually relented and set off for New York City from Oslo in 1918. Here he now saw the success and love he had for so long rejected and it was in America where he met his compatriot, Vladmir Horowitz in the basement of Steinway Hall in 1928 who is known as the master of Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto No.3. (see the 1996 film Shine as a tribute to this magnificent piece). Rachmaninoff even acknowledged this himself stating  "This is the way I always dreamed my concerto should be played, but I never expected to hear it that way on Earth." after one of Horowitz’s performances in Rachmaninoff’s twilight years. 

Why Rachmaninoff is so important to me, it is his humanity. During the face of great tragedy which he felt so keenly as the sentimental soul he was and suffered greatly during it, he strove to continue despite all his self-doubt and self flagellation as a failure. He was just so human. You can feel his tragedy and grief embrace your very soul and yet find profound beauty in his works. This is true art, the expression of one’s soul and the uncanny ability to deeply connect with your fellow human beings. Tolstoy’s War and Peace comes to mind, another Russian export that can match the heights of Rachmaninoff’s compositions. The tragedy, the love, the family, the war, the evil, the kindness, the resilience and the struggle during the 1812 French invasion of Russia where it seemed all hope had been lost. And it was this - hope that is the crowning quality of humanity. My thoughts return to my childhood reading one of my sisters’ hand me down Enid Blyton books The Land of Far-Beyond and the final chapter always struck me deeply even as a kid. Out of faith, hope, and love. It is hope that is the greatest of these three. Where there’s life, there’s hope.

Sergei Rachmaninoff performing Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini in 1934. Of the 24 variations, pay especially close attention to the 18th (the most well known and romantic) and the 24th, the legendary finale requiring superhuman technical skill to pull off (in fact Rachmaninoff himself doubted his ability to play this and as a teetotaller had a creme de menthe before his performance to help steady his nerves and consequently became known as the creme de menthe variation. 

So what did these three men have in common? Melanoma. 

Melanoma is the most dangerous type of skin cancer and the 5th most common cancer in the UK. Melanoma derives from cancer in the pigment containing cells called melanocytes. Although melanoma is most associated with melanocytes of the skin, as in Oliver Sack’s case it can occur in the eye - e.g. uveal melanoma - the uvea is the collective term for the structures: iris, ciliary body and choroid (Figure 1 & 2). Bob Marley had discovered acral lentiginous melanoma (Figure 3) growing underneath the nail of a toe following a football game injury, which due to his Rastafarian beliefs against amputation ultimately led to Sergei Rachmaninoff by the time of his death already had advanced melanoma where it is probable that metastasis had already occurred. 

Figure 1: Diagram of the eye 

Figure 2: Uveal melanoma

Figure 3: Acral lentiginous melanoma in nail bed 

See the video below by Armando Hasudungan which provides a good introduction to melanoma

One of the most common cancers in young adults - most commonly seen on backs in men and legs in women. The primary risk to melanoma is intermittent exposure to UV radiation and sunlight.

Risk factors - FH, PMH, light physical features, immunosuppression, Multiple freckles and moles (atypical mole syndrome)

Features using a dermatoscope (glorified magnifying glass with a torch)- pigmented, aymmetrical, uneven borders, bleeding. See ABCDE (Figure 4) for good heuristic to diagnose melanoma

EFG - elevated above skin surface, firm to touch, growing - criteria for nodular melanoma, most dangerous form

Protective factors - protection against sun and UV radiation e.g. sunhats, sunscreen, restriction of time spent in sun, regular skin check ups

Figure 4: ABCDE checklist

The video below by Podmedics provides more detail about melanoma:

Risk factors: multiple benign/atypical naevi, giant pigmented hairy naevus, genetic predisposition (>2 first degree relatives affected, CDKN2A mutation), previous skin cancer, immunosuppression, Fitzpatrick skin type I (see Figure 5, often auburn haired, very pale individuals - again another heuristic - dermatology is full of them!, intermittent exposure to sunlight - UV radiation - UVB 315-280 nm and less so UVA 400-315 nm, sunbeds etc (see youtube video in Further Reading for why), geographical location, increasing age

Glasgow 7 point criteria (Figure 6)

Superficial malignant melanomas: superficial spreading, lentigo maligna, acral lentiginous 

Deeper malignant melanoma: nodular, mucosal, neurotropic, desmoplastic

Investigations: excisional biopsy, lymphoscintigraphy - tracing lymph drainage, sentinel lymph node biopsy (if primary melanoma <1mm in depth), staging - USS/CT/MRI/PET/CXR, bloods - LFTs and LDH if liver mets suspected 

Management : education, wide location excision +/- skin grafting, chemotherapy, biologics e.g. interferonalpha-2b, IL-2, BRAF inhibitors: dabrafenib, vemurafenib.

Prognosis - Breslow thickness, Clark level, poor prognosis: ulceration, mitotic rate, location of lesions, males>females.

Figure 5: Fitzpatrick skin types

Figure 6: Glasgow 7 point checklist

Breslow thickness is a useful diagnostic tool for invasive melanomas. It is the measuring in mm vertically from the top of the granular layer (Epidermal layers from superficial to deep: Come Let’s Get Sun Burned, Stratum Corneum, Stratum Lucidum, Stratum Granulosum, Stratum Spinosum, Stratum Basale) to the deepest point of the tumour. The thicker the melanoma, the more likely it is likely to metastasise. 

Clark level of invasion is the anatomical plane of invasion (dermal layers from superficial to deep: papillary dermis to reticular dermis)

Level 1: in situ melanoma

Level 2: Melanoma invasion into papillary dermis 

Level 3: Melanoma filled papillary dermis

Level 4: Melanoma invaded reticular dermis

Level 5: Melanoma invaded subcutaneous tissue

Staging of melanoma is the process determining the size/depth of the melanoma and how far it will spread. The classification used is the TNM (tumour, node - lymph, metastasis) which then determines the stage of the cancer (0 to IV) - (Figure 7). The most common metastases from melanoma are the liver, lungs, brain and bones.

Figure 7: Staging of melanoma

Just a brief mention of uveal melanoma - often referred to as ocular melanomas. It is clear that UV radiation plays a role in the formation of uveal melanoma. The treatment is normally enucleation - the removal of the eye. Given this is a localised cancer, radiotherapy is used - namely brachytherapy is often used as another form of treatment. The liver is the most common location for metastasis from ocular cancer. Oliver Sacks found he had this metastasis to the liver himself to which he wrote a moving article in the New York Times in which the link can be found below.

Melanoma is common. It also kills. That’s why it’s so important to protect yourself in the sun. As seen from this post, all three mentioned were men which fits with the stats that men are more likely to get melanoma than women. I think Hugh Jackman (Wolverine) also had melanoma which fits with his Australian background as well. Something so seemingly harmless as the sun can also lead to metastasis riddling the whole body. So keep checking for any moles, changes, I cannot stress this enough. We have lost three fantastic people mentioned due to this disease, and the fact is the prognosis is remarkably good for early detection (localised melanoma) with five year survival rates of 98% which drops drops staggeringly to 17% with metastasis. The old quote of prevention is better than cure rings true here. I conclude with this poignant quote which reinforces why I write this blog.

“In examining disease, we gain wisdom about anatomy and physiology and biology. In examining the person with disease, we gain wisdom about life.” 

Oliver Sacks

Further reading

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/health-32749634

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1vJSsJdSosU 

https://www.dermnetnz.org/topics/melanoma/

http://www.bad.org.uk/library-media/documents/Melanoma%20-%20Diagnosis%20and%20Staging.pdf 

https://www.nytimes.com/2015/02/19/opinion/oliver-sacks-on-learning-he-has-terminal-cancer.html