Friday and I wake up to find my partner up and about. I take my vitals and sip the hot water my partner has brought me. It’s going to be breakfast and then we are going car spotting at the local car warehouse. There is no intention of buying one but my partner and I are going to spend a day parking our arses in different cars to see how they fit and easy it is to change the driving position. So I get up, take my morning meds and eat breakfast in time to set off. I am momentarily delayed as the man from the garden shed supplier rings to say he is going to be arriving in a weeks time to put the base in for the new storage shed. When I ask about the removal of the old sheds he is flummoxed. I ring the suppliers and get a someone who knows nothing and promises to get back to me tomorrow. I look forward to that. In the meantime I took time to order new latte glasses as I broke one the other day and we are down to our last two. Finally my partner and I get to drive of f on our car spotting adventure.

I pull into the car park of the car super market and we wonder into their huge show room, or as I think of it “the abattoir of the punters”, with its myriad desks and chairs all hooked up to relieve me of the lower half of my wallet. My partner and I set off and head for the huge rows of used cars. We spend hours, literally, sitting in cars and adjusting the driving position. There are conversations about visibility, parkability, driveabilty and how ease any car would be to find in a car park. The colour descriptions are fun. What I call “tarmac grey” or “road camouflage” is delightfully called “dolphin grey”. Apart from the odd bile coloured “”day glo” green monstrosity there is little to choose. Red and blue of course but you have to pay more for those if new. By lunch time my partner and I need to rest and so we head for the automated rest area where we can empty our bladders, buy drinks and chocolate form the machines and do more research on our phones about the cost of new versions of the cars we have put on our “possibles” list.

After getting our blood sugar up we asked about a couple of car makes and got one of the assistants to write down which row it was in and the registration number. Off we went again back to row 21 only to find the car was not there. We wander around a bit more, sitting in cars and playing with them until I can take no more. One final look at a car and last minute comfort break and my partner and I head for home.

My partner begins to make a very late lunch and I go to the post office to get a paper and some nibbles for tonight, I resist the chocolate aisle. I eat my very late lunch and start to surf the net looking at some cars and seeing how much I can get for mine but in the end I am all “cared” out and start to draft the blog. A friend rings me briefly as she dashes to the vet to collect meds for her cat and on the way back. We chat about family and the coming Pride weekend, which in this changing social climate brings its own tensions, so hopefully all will go well. This evening I shall watch a rugby semi final and then go to bed having taken my meds to probably dream of cars. Most likely nightmares as the technology has moved on so far now I feel that I need to take a degree course to pilot one of the new beasts. Apart from my car spotting adventure today the hospital has confirmed my bone scan. Its one of those where I get irradiated and then have to go back for the scan on the same day. Its not my favourite pass time but I am sure I will manage. It adds to the arithmetic, by whose logic I run my life.

Thursday and I wake up to the first day of chemo cycle 26 so I take my vitals, which are good, and then check my socials and messages. I get up and get breakfast and take my morning meds. With that out of the way I find a message telling me my car insurance has been paid, which is a bit of a surprise to me. I hunt around and find my policy and check the App that I had used. Sure enough my policy has been renewed and I am covered again till June 2026. So I download my new documentation and print off the most important ones. So having done that I, I move on to sorting out my new debt card, the one that had been compromised by the Netflix hack. Finally my admin was done and I head for the garage and the rower.

It’s been two days since I last trained so this session needs to be an hours session, so I get on board the rower and get some training music into my ears. I know that this is going to be an effort so I start off quite slowly and gradually build up a rhythm. Its a tough session and I do not quite make my 12 kilometre standard but it feels like it is a useful session.

I take time out to record the session and then rest for a while before showering. My partner returns and we chat for a while. I look at her watch whose touch sensitive face has come adrift, and superglue the screen back into place, which seems to have worked. When I check my messages again I find have been sent a date and a time for another bone scan, it is not unexpected and I am quite relieved that it has come through so quickly. So I will be spending another half day being irradiated and scanned, during which I tend to nap.

The evening arrives after a rain curtailed by visit by the garden guy and I move into my master plan to watch football and eat and Indian take away. The Indian went well but the streaming service wanted money to watch the match, so I draft the blog while easing myself into “rom com” night but so far there has been a murder and there is little sign of either “rom” or “com”. I shall be working towards the evening meds and an early night. It’s not been a bad first day of Cycle 26.

Wednesday and I wake up knowing that this Wednesday is two things. Firstly it is the last day of Cycle 25 of my chemo and secondly I have to collect my next cycle of chemo pills from the hospital pharmacy today. So as my partner goes off to see her mother with her brother I get up and get ready for the trip. I have breakfast and my morning meds and then I start to get my partners car ready to do the trip. I change the battery in the car key fob and fill the washer reservoir. I then drive into town and park up at the car park by the central hotel and undertake the walk down to the hospital pharmacy. Its a fair step and the weather is humid so its not long before I am regretting loading my shoulder bag with a journal, a book and a charger pack for the phone.

I trudge onwards discovering that I am not the fast walker I used to be but I keep cutting along till I get to the hospital. The pharmacy used to be useless and a inept but since rebuilding it has become quite efficient. I show my appointment letter wit my detail to the receptionist who confirms my date of birth and then calls me Ronald! It happens so often I think there must be a cultural glitch with the the name Roland. I correct her and she scuttles off to find my drugs. I had no sooner got my bum on a chair in the waiting area thinking I was going to get a rest and even a chapter of the book read when one of the approved dispensers calls my name, checks my date of birth and shows me what she is giving me. I agree its my usual stuff and she hands it over. I read the 2013 NICE report on my drugs and was interested to note just how much it cost, one cycle in 2013 cost in excess of £2,700 and a more recent report suggested that it is the equivalent of £100 a day. That is seventy two and a half thousand pounds over the two years I have been taking this chemo. I have to say I think I am worth it. That’s about £12,000 a poetry collection, that’s well worth it. The walk back to the car park at the hotel was slow and by the time I had paid for my ticket and got in the car I was knackered.

By the time I got home I was just about cooling down, I grabbed a 0% lager out of the fridge and sat in the garden doing todays crosswords. I was joined by my partner who made us lunch. After finishing both lunch and the crosswords I retreated inside with the garden camera intending to see if our resident hedgehog had shown up recently. While stowing my new cycle of pills away I realised I had not taken my vitals this morning so I lay down, asked Alexa to play me meditation music and promptly dozed off. When I woke up I took my vitals, which were a good set to end the cycle on and then returned to garden camera. I am pleased to say that the hedgehog was still knocking around at the end of March when the camera batteries ran out. I shall replenish the camera in due course and see if the hog has made it through to June.

The family eat tea and and I start to draft the blog. The evening drifts by towards Race Across the World and then it will be time for me to be taking the last dose of cycle 25, popping on my finger splint and getting myself to bed. Tomorrow has to be a training day if I am to keep myself fit and to fight the side effects of the coming Cycle 26.

Tuesday and I seem to have slept well again. So I check my messages and emails and take my vitals. My partner goes off to aqua aerobics and I drink my morning hot water before getting up. However before I can get up I get a phone call from the dentist who says she was expecting me at 9:30. I am taken aback as my diary clearly says 2:30pm. I rebook for later in the month quite happy to not have to do the dentist today. I do not make it to my morning meds or breakfast as I get waylaid by an urge to finally clear out my T shirt wardrobe. So I go full on and spend hours, literally sorting through my shelves and draws and dumping ruthlessly any garment that I do not wear or had lain so long as to become stained and unwearable. I end up with two bin bags full of old clothing and a very tidy wardrobe. Its noon before I stop, take my meds and have lunch.

My partner returns from her gym session and we eat before going to the garden centre. There are empty pots to fill so we cruise the rows of available plants and think about what we need over a drink and and Eccles cake. Having grabbed a trolley it gets loaded with top soil, compost, Zinnia and the crowning glory of a new very green Japanese maple. Once home I get out the required tools and plant the new tree in my favourite Vietnamese pot. I spend time staking the fuchsias that are coming up and then clear away everything. By the time I have finished I am over hot and just need to rest. I sit and check my emails and then watch the England women’s football team get taken apart by the Spanish. While watching a disturbingly inept display by England I eat tea and then watch a movie on Netflix , which my daughter has managed to join and included my partner and I and fiendishly included a code to get in so hopefully the account will not be hacked again.

I check my emails and find my dentist has sent me a ” you’ve been naughty” letter but have waived the non attendance fee. I’m slightly irked but as I am not paying anything I let it go. As the evening continues I draft the blog and begin to think about whatever it is that is making me feel so “itchy scratchy” at the moment, it is usually a sign that there is something trying to be written and trying to find a way onto the page. It could be tonight, tomorrow or in a weeks time but there is something at some time. For now I move towards my night meds, the dreaded night finger splint and the sleep before I need to get up and go to the hospital pharmacy to pick up my next cycle, and so the battle continues, slow and relentless.

Monday and I wake after a good nights sleep knowing this is to be a training day. I take my vitals, which are pleasingly good, and get into my training gear before having breakfast with my partner. I take my morning meds and then I sit and read my emails and messages. I am pleased to find that the editing team have sent me four possible book cover designs for the upcoming poetry collection. I choose one and respond to the team, suggesting a slight tweak to the front cover. I also decide to go with the blurb written by the editor for the back cover of the book. It feels as if we are getting close to the finished article now and will soon be looking to up load it to the platform.

With the book work done I put my washing in and head for the garage and the rowing machine. I put my ear buds in and select a training track that will see me through the 45 minute session that I have programmed into the machine. I start at quite a fast pace and the training track drives me forward. By the end of the session I am very hot and sweaty and quite ragdoll like. The effort has proved worth it as I have smashed my personal best by some 683 metres. It is an unexpected row but most welcome. Go me!

I am knackered and go to the sofa to recover and record my session. Out of the blue a friend rings me and we have a long chat about family, schooling and what we have both been doing over the last couple of weeks. Its a real pleasure to have the conversation and the catch up. We chatted about the coming month and the things we have planned, it would appear that both families will be busy, mine with family visitors and cancer admin, while hers will be preparing for York Pride. When the chat ends I go out and hang my washing out, taking advantage of the late sunny afternoon before eventually going for a shower.

Feeling refreshed I start to draft the blog until tea time when I eat with the family. Tonight my partner has a singing lesson, my eldest daughter has gone to an art class and I return to the blog while waiting for Tesco to deliver. With that out of the way I can gather in my washing and settle down to read or do something mindless. It will end with night meds, the finger splint and finally bed as I look forward to tomorrows trip to the dentist, never a favourite pastime. I am very tired and spoonless after todays efforts.

Saturday and I wake knowing this has to be a training day. So I am up and into my training. I have my morning meds and and scrambled eggs. A new oncology appointment arrives as does a bloods form. This time it is to be a short interval of four weeks so the 25th of June is to be the magic day with bloods a few days earlier. I go to the garage and get on board the rowing machine, today has to be an hours row. I get my ear buds in and get set for the off. The start is slow, perhaps too slow but I get into a comfortable pace as the training music track picks up speed. Although I do not make 12 kilometres the distance I do make is okay as is the 700+ calories that I burn.

I record my session and then watch a rugby match on TV, my local team is playing to get into the end of season play offs, which they do comfortably. I get out of my kit and then cook tea, a chicken stroganoff with turmeric rice, which I serve to the family in time to watch the series finale of Dr Who and then move on to the European cup final. I got bored with that by half time and watch a couple of episodes of Rabbit hole before taking my night meds, clearing the aftermath of my cooking and going to bed. Another mundane day but one in which I feel anxiety rumbling around about my cancer, its a long since I have been reviewed on a months gap and I wonder just how concerned my oncologist is about my PSA rising for a second time in five months, clearly enough to want to scan me again and see me face to ace in four weeks. Maybe its nothing, a lot can happen between now and the 25th of June.

Sunday and my partner has gone to the gym leaving my to do my vitals (a good set today) and to have breakfast and meds before settling down with my laptop to try and sort out my Netflix account. I try to log into my account on the TV, which takes me to a verification code on my phone as it recognises my phone number but not my email address. What’s more it takes me to a verification page in Spanish! I have no joy, so I sit and think for a while. I try to login with my phone number but does not recognise my email address and tells me no account belongs to this address. When I try to log in again I use my telephone number and ask for a verification code by SMS. Bingo I am suddenly into an account but one that has a totally different email address from me but it has my debit card as the preferred method of payment. Bloody cheek! I cancel the subscription but I am told it will not take effect until the 29th of June as Netflix is clearly wanting to collect the months fee. I try to clear the card from the account but it will not do it only offer me the opportunity to put an alternative way to pay on the account. I look at the profile page and find the name of the person with the account is Luizmary Perez and there is an email sign in for the account to her. She has put at least four other profiles on the account, which I delete. So in theory the account is closed and all by Perez profile is gone. I send the email address an email just saying I know that she stole my account and card and not to do it again. I am a man with a particular set of skills, I felt like adding. With that done of course I rang my bank and got through to a really nice chap at the security branch who checked my details and confirmed my identity and blocked my card. A new one will be with me soon and its details on my banking app. He was also able to block any future subscriptions to Netflix for a period of time. So by the time I had worked my way through all of this it was mid afternoon. I breathed a sigh of relief and settled back to a sandwich and an apple.

I had also removed the email address I had used to send my “I know what you did ” email and as a consequence had managed to lose all my diary entries on my phone. There followed a period of extreme NSG (nonspecific grumpiness) as I wrestled with the IT on my phone to retrieve all the diary entries on my phone. I finally got there much to my relief. What it did do for me was make me realise how some of my bits of IT are interlinked, which was a bit of a nasty shock. I am clearly more ignorant than I thought about the IT in my life. Having over come my IT nightmare I read in my newsfeed that Netflix has recently been hacked and account holders data been stolen, this the Guardian reported 3 days ago so it would appear that I was one of those who had been affected, which is why my account would not recognise me and the software kept coming up in Spanish. Its this sort of thing that makes me want to hide cash under the mattress and only communicate by letter and Pidgeon. The garden guy has turned up and mown the grass and dug things but I hardly notice having spent my time wrestling with the murky world of cyber security.

I am looking forward to an evening of a final episode of Rabbit Hole and the good old fashion feel of a paper book to read. There will of course be the last minute adjustment to the Tesco order before night meds, donning the night finger splint and restacking the dishwasher. But at least I can enjoy the flowers in my garden and know that no one is watching Netflix on my money.

Its Friday and I wake up and make my partner and I warm drinks after which I take my vitals, all good< and then get for breakfast. By the time I get this done and taken my morning meds its time to get ready to go to the small spa at the gym and to have y nails redone. My partner is to have her feet and hands done, I am just having my nails done. When we walk into the spa area and say hello it is the elderly woman who is seated in what looks like a gaming chair with a foot bar attached, who clearly wonders what on earth old pony tailed bloke could possibly be doing in the place. She as ushered behind a curtain to finished off while my partner and I settled in to get our nails done.

The young woman who is doing mine obviously enjoys her work and we chat about what my options are. These conversation are bizarre, they belong in a whole new world and as they drift and I find out that she is know for waiting for her father to go to sleep and then painting his nails, I wonder what I have got myself into. This honest faced young woman is clearly a ninja beautician. She set to work on me, removing old layers of gel and preparing to put on my base coat. I pop my hands in and out of the UV dryer and then its crunch time. I tell her I want sparkles, but shy sparkles and she shows me options. I go for a subtle sparkle and she applies it as I dip my hands in and out of the UV dryer. Eventually I am done, a small dab of oil on each finger and I am good to go. I pay and leave for the gym lounge where I read whilst waiting for my partner.

After about an hour my partner joins me and we go for lunch at an Italian place across form the gym. I stick to spaghetti Bolognese and garlic bread followed by an Affogato. The waiter tipped us the wink that there were coupons available on the internet so I pounced with the result that we got 25% off the bill. Worth having!

Arriving home there was a quick look around the garden, which led me to do some staking and the filling of the bird feeders. before taking some more photos of the flowers. The peonies have been magnificent this year as are the pink poppies being.

With the garden chores done its time to return to the sofa, where I intended to sort out my drugs dosette boxes, but I gat side tracked by buying shirts. My favourite shirt that I wear most is a work shirt from DIckies, it is now very old and a bit battered. It so old that I was not sure if Dickies was still in business, but I find they are. To me satisfaction I find two shirts I like and to boot if I sign up I can get 10% off. I go for it. I now have new shirts that I can wear in my new fashion mould of shirt and shorts and on a good day Crocs. With my shirt buying taken care of for at least the next five years, I turn to filling my dosette boxes for the next two weeks.

All though these activities I have been messaging and replying to messages, one of which has lead to me arranging to meet a friend on the day before my birthday for lunch as she is passing through on her way to the South on, I assume, business. I’ve also sent messages about the possibility of creating an audio book of some of my poems. I’m just exploring at the moment but it feels like it could be an interesting project with new things to learn. With all this done I draft the blog. Its a mundane day, by which I mean almost normal. I’ve done normal things that others take for granted, which cost me a lot of energy and provoke fatigue. It is the hot flushes that descend from time to time that leave me drained, that and a persistent backache at the moment. I ease myself into the evening and will nibble my way though to the night meds, the finger splint and the hope for sleep.

Thursday and I wake after a fair nights sleep. I check my vitals and all is good apart from my heart rate that seems to be up a bit and I note I have constricted throat. I get up and shower have breakfast and then rest for a bit, it appears I have few spoons (energy) today. I have checked my messages and my social media, there is nothing there other than the editing team checking what size I want my next book to be. I reply a solid 6 x 9. And then its time to go out for lunch with friends.

My partner drives us to the venue, a swanky gastro pub in the depths of the Leicestershire country side. We are first to arrive and are shown to our table but when our friends arrive we move to an outside table. This, I think to myself is good for my vitamin D production. So for three and a half hours we sit and eat and catch up with what we are all doing and how we are. It is really nice to sit around and just idly chat about the world and ourselves. It also gave ma a chance to give my friend a belated birthday gift, one of those where I had it delivered to me by accident. I rounded off my meal with an affogato and a shot of Tia Maria, and absolute luxury.

On returning home my partner headed for the garden to continue planting seeds and plants, I headed to the bathroom where I began the adventure of changing a toilet seat. Having taken the old one off I set about fitting the new one and soon realised that upgrading to a “soft closing” seat from an old “bugger I’ve dropped the lid again ” seat as a bit more complex due to the instillation of the mechanisms. After a bit of trial and a couple of restarts the household moved into the new soft closing era.

I look at the new one and note that it is more “ample” in its dimensions and wonder if I have unconsciously chosen a new seat to accommodate my now more Rubenesque derriere. I pack away my tools, dispose of the old seat and retreat to the garden to sip ginger beer and see what my partner had done in the garden. I doing so I noticed the sun shade parasol has ripped. So I have gone from fixing something new to finding something else broken. It is just how life is at times. Perverse.

I retreat to the sofa feeling tired and so I start to draft the blog. By mid evening I am decidedly “itchy scratchy” and resign myself to an evening of TV to finish off “Murder at the end of the World”. So I head to my night meds and finger splint. Tomorrow beckons and with it the renewal of my gelled nails. But in all this I am increasingly thinking about an audio book of some of my poems. Not a full collection but a number drawn from across my collections. The question is whether to do the reading myself or to have someone else read them. It is a conversation I shall be having with myself over the next few days and maybe weeks. If I can get round to it I shall write to friends and ask them what they think.

Wednesday, its oncology review day so I’m awake early despite the review call being in the early afternoon. I take my vitals, which are good as my partner goes off to see her mother. I dally a moment to jot a poem before I get up. This one will not make it into the up coming collection, but maybe in one later this year, I will have to see what happens over the next few months in terms of writing anything else new.

447
The tide is high 
and like Blondie
I’m hanging on.
I keep reminding myself
that ships only sink when water
gets inside.
So my hatches are battened down
and my bilge pumps
are at full stretch.
Iv’e turned my bow
into the oncoming storm
and see the horizon
rise and fall.
All around the ocean
rages and batters
at my hull.
This luckless slinger
can only watch
and cling to the wheel
in the hope that I might
be able to steer.
The tide is high
and like Blondie
I’m hanging on. 

                                    447 28-05-2025

Having emptied myself of the writing I get up and get dressed. I need to eat as I’ve had a bad gut all night and of course everyone knows that what is required in this situation is a full English breakfast. So I head for the village pub with my eldest daughter for company. There we order and devour whilst chatting about her doctoral thesis writing and other stuff, being joined for a brief while by the landlord’s dog.

With breakfast done we walk back home where I settle down to do the days crosswords and listen to the radio. Its more Heresy that I listen to while getting an early start on the blog. My oncology review is due for 2:30 but they rarely ring on time so I know that I am going to be sitting around for a long time this afternoon. I get as far as I can with the blog and then take up my current reading, Light from Uncommon Stars by Ryka Aoki, while I wait for my call. As I wait I make bets with myself about the time they will call, I think it will be about 5 o’clock if they run true to form. Busy people oncologists. I check my email sand find the second edit of the new poetry collection is back. I apply myself and make the necessary changes and send it back to the team. This should be the final draft.

The oncologist proves me wrong and rings around 3pm. It is a lightning fast call, the usual how am I and I tell him I am having lower back pain and do not know if it is tumours on my spine or age and rowing. He notes I’ve not had a scan since February 2024, he also notes that my PSA has risen for a second time and asks about my blood pressure. I duly report my current average over cycle 25. He then surprises me and says he will see me in four weeks, order a scan, prescribe one more cycle and send me a bloods form. He also surprises me by saying he will see me in person at the next appointment. And then he is gone. Two minutes max! So all this is a bit unexpected, I thought it would be another routine “see you in three months” job. If he thinks the fact that my PSA has risen twice since December 2024 is significant then I guess getting fresh data and seeing me in the flesh quickly is a good idea. One more cycle is the time it takes to organise a scan, bloods and the pharmacy. So at some point in June or early July (probably on my birthday) I will get some clarification.

With the session over I take my partner to the garden centre to get more fibre pots for more seed growing and some plants for hanging baskets. I add liquorice comfits to the shopping along with real ginger beer and freshly squeezed lemonade, I can no longer tolerate Red Bull. By the time I get home the garden guy has turned up and so its time to make coffee, have a chat and then my eldest daughter and I set about putting an end to the ridiculous tax issues of my late sisters estate. The tax return for the final year of her life is signed off and sent, the accountants bill paid and hard copies made and filled in the estate accounts. All this just in time for tea.

The evening is a football evening and race across the world evening and then I’m going to bed full of night meds, strapped to my finger splint and now slipping into a new time schedule for my oncology expectations. It is easy to think I should stay calm but some how it proves to be tricky. Tomorrow my partner and I are having lunch at a swanky gastro pub with friends so there is pleasure to look forward to.

Tuesday and I wake up feeling that I need to train again to keep my fitness going. My partner is up and getting ready to go for a physio appointment. I check my vitals, which are good and then I get up and into my training kit. A quick breakfast, and a check of my social media and I slowly make my way to the garage and the rower. I strap myself onto the machine, plug in some music in my ears and then I get on with a brisk session for thirty minutes. This is a fast and sweaty session as I listen to a training podcast. At the end of my thirty minutes I am spent and out of spoons (energy), however I have cracked 6 kilometres, 400 calories and a 1000 strokes. That is good after yesterdays lack lustre session.

I record the session and then sit and listen to several Radio 2 comedy programmes, Heresy, The News Quiz and The Unbelievable Truth sipping Red Bull before having the energy to have a shower and trim my beard. I have no energy or inclination to do anything other than sit on the recliner and draft the blog. I’ve already completed the update of my blood pressure figures ready for tomorrows oncology review. I do not think the oncology team will think I need much beyond another three cycles of Enzalutamide. My PSA has risen twice since December 2024 by 0.8 so I do not think they are going to be excited or bothered about that, my blood pressure average for cycle 25 is 121/73, so they will be happy with that. I am getting more back ache which might signal an increase in the size of the tumour on my spine or it could just be me getting older in combination with the rowing. The most they might consider is a bone scan as its 15 months since my last one. All this considered I suspect tomorrows review call will be short. I must be one of their successes and they are probably snowed under with a lot of people who are far worse off than me.

The evening starts with a plain pasta tea and then I look to see if my edit of The Cancer Years: Ordinary Brave has been received and worked on. I am eager to see what the team at Ruler’s Wit come up with as a book cover and how they interpret my ideas about a Rene Magritte style front cover. There is TV to watch, the current series being Murder at the End of the World. Its been a rainy day, second one on the trot so the garden, with its new plants, is enjoying. The night meds are taken, the night finger splint is strapped on and I go to bed wondering if the oncology review will go as I think it will. There seems few other options according to the arithmetic.