Thursday and all I have is one picture that sums up the day and a conversation with a friend before meeting my grandchildren tomorrow.

The rest of the day has been shopping and preparation for tomorrows visit by the Swedish grand children and the English one. Night meds and bed, pushing cancer to the back of my mind.

Wednesday and I am awake early because today is oncology review day. There is time for toast and to take my morning meds before I get on the Uber App and magic up a taxi for 8 o’clock. It all works and I and my partner arrive early at the oncology service. I get into to see the consultant, “he who made a pact with the devil”, first, which is a result in itself.

The outcome was as follows: 1. My bone scan shows nothing, which is brilliant. The original abnormalities have gone, they cannot find them. Apparently I have responded so well. 2. The gene test they did on me was negative, so that’s another possible issue out of the way. 3. My PSA has held steady and as a result the oncologist is happy to go for 12 weeks to the next review, that’ s a result. 4. My next review will be over the phone. 5. if my PSA rises as a trend I will be prescribed steroids along side the current medication. 6. I will have an interim blood test to check my PSA.

So I am written two blood forms, a pink form for reception and a continuation for my current medication that I have to take to the pharmacy. My partner and I make our way to the pharmacy and hand in my continuation form. I am told it will be 45 minutes before it will be ready and handed a bleeper. My partner and I go to the hospital café. Here we catch up with our understanding of what has just been said in the consultation as we nibble away at our snacks. After about 40 minutes the pager goes and we make our way back to the pharmacy. There are my three boxes with the next three cycles waiting for me. We make our way out after a pre-emptive visit to the facilities. At a hospital entrance I work the Uber App again with the result that we have to scuttle across to the AVO hotel reception. After an interesting route home we get back and have lunch.

With renewed energy my partner and I go off to the local DIY store and buy the boards needed to mount the garden tools on. Its a swift visit and we have time to drop into a garden centre to get some food. We are soon home again and into the garden. I gather up the tools I need and get to work fixing the boards in position. It all goes surprisingly smoothly and by late afternoon all I need is the tool hooks to arrive. While I wait I draft the blog with the England under 21s playing the Dutch in the semi final of the under 21s European cup. They win! So the evening meal is eaten and my tool hooks still have not arrived. Time to sort out the rest of the week as my son and family are now in town. I eventually take myself to bed full of night meds and still sore from Mondays jab.

Tuesday and there is one thing on my mind, clear the garden and get all the stuff I am gong to keep in the new shed. So as my partner gets ready to go and visit her mother with her brother I take my vitals and get dressed for a days graft in the garden. My partner sounds rough as she says good by. I take my morning meds and update my blood pressure data base so I have an up to date average blood pressure to give “he who made a pact with the devil” at my oncology review tomorrow. I also looked up how far the Boat Race is in kilometres, the answer is 6.8 kilometres and the record for a burly eight men and one cox is 16 minutes and 14 seconds. That means on a good half hour session on the rower I do a Boat Race! As I do at least 45 minutes or 60 minute sessions I am rowing at least 3 to 5 Boat Races a week ! I’m 77 in 12 days time. I therefore declare myself as “not doing too badly” With all this out of the way I begin the big clear out and the loading of the new garden shed.

So this is me until well gone 4:30 in the afternoon and I am knackered. But the satisfaction of having cleared the garden and got the shed loaded as well as the Hippo bag is immense. I flop onto the recliner and let the fan cool me down as I start to draft the blog. My partner having returned has taken a long afternoon nap to try and fight off her sore throat and other symptoms. Here are the fruits of my labour:

By 6pm I am cool finally and the blog has progressed all I need to do now is eat and rest. There is still preparation to do for tomorrows oncology review but keeping moving today has helped stave off the usual post injection pain. I need to get the view that I have angina off the record and to be direct about where I am at in terms of continuing on my current chemo, but biggest of all is the result of the bone scan. So I prepare a list of questions and a supply of data. With that done I can focus on a football match , a shower and an early night with my night meds. I have checked my Uber App and account so that I can Uber it to and from the hospital tomorrow, I am not even going to attempt to park at either the hospital or the city centre car park, someone else can take strain. So now its pizza for me and the dash to night meds and sleep.

Monday and its a jab Monday. I get up, shower, clear the dishwasher and take my morning meds. I take my partner a tea and then move my car off the drive as today is also shed delivery day. With this flurry of activity done I head for the GP surgery. I meet a friend their and we chat about extensions and how getting older we have body charts where we mark off the bits of us that have required attention. He is here to have bloods taken and I am here to have my 28 day jab. He goes in first and then I follow when I am called by an unfamiliar nurse. This not good news as my regular nurse knows what a large and sticky injection my Firmagon is.

As I suspected this nurse is not a Firmagon expert so when it comes to jabbing me with the stuff there is a moment of hesitation followed by a comments about it not wanting to go in. I make idle chat about how much of it there is and it is always a slow job getting it all in and mention, what feels like, the duck egg lump I get left with after the jab. Eventually there is an “ah ha that’s better” as she gets the hang of it. She tapes a cotton wool ball on my gut and then books me in for the next one. I leave and and saunter home collecting a paper and some goodies on the way.

Once home I settle down to do the days cross words and as I am almost through them the Shed delivery flatbed parks up on the drive and one bloke gets out. There is the ceremonial giving of a cup of tea, a passing of the niceties and then single handed he start to unload the van. He carries large panels single handed to the garden, spots dog poo, (we have no dog), and asks for the washing line to be taken down. I offer help but he says he will only need help with the doors. He gets on with it, while I hover and he manages. I do try to help with the side with the doors on but I am no help and he does it on his own mostly from then on. It seems to me to be cruel and thoughtless to send one man to move all the panels and to erect a 8 x 7 shed on his own.

I notice he is unloading roofing felt and go out to him to ask what he is doing as I ordered a solid roof specifically to avoid having to re-felt the roof in future years. He rings the company and there is a conversation at the end of which it is agreed that the roof will be solid but will need to be ordered and arrive in about a week, in the mean time it will be felted and I will not be charged extra. By a quarter past one he was gone.

Over the next hour I sweat and get the flooring down and the racking installed complete with shelves. Its a bit of wrestle as the WD40 used to ease the racking joints together has made them slippery and I had to re-erect one of the racking units. Eventually I get them in and lock up the new shed, I am tired and getting sore from my jab, I will relocate my garden tools later when it is cooler. For now I am pleased.

I put the washing line back up and clear away the tools and then find key rings for the shed keys. With this done and my partner home from the gym we sit and have a late lunch snack and I start to draft the blog. Before I can get going though my partner and I check that our computer system is working on Teams by her sending me a call onto my laptop. There are sound issues but we eventually get everything working so that my partner can do her singing lesson tonight. Half way through this Tesco deliver so its all hands to the pump to squirrel everything away and I can resume drafting the blog. Interspersed with this activity a meeting is arranged with Ruler’s Wit who I think I now have to call my publishers.

By the early evening meal I am taking paracetamol to ward of my injection soreness and the growing side effects, but I am still hopeful of getting something’s into the new shed this evening. What does not get moved tonight will have to wait till tomorrow and whether I feel up to it. I need to put in the hanging beam to accommodate the garden tools like spades and hoes but other stuff can be put in out of the weather. No doubt I shall dose up with paracetamol tonight in order to sleep as well as I can tonight, I already feel myself short of spoons and needing to rest.

Saturday and its a poetry stanza day, so after taking my vitals, all okay, I get up and prepare to go to the Stanza. Its very hot so I putter about doing small but useful things like checking my tyres and sorting my dosettes. There are messages from the Ruler’s Wit team about doing further work with them, so in the future there may be a lunch time meeting. I am hoping that this collaboration continues to be fruitful. The time comes to travel so with my twelve copies of a poem I drive to the venue only to find it cannot be used. A couple of the Stanza members are at the venue and we walk down together to St Dionysius church where we are told we can meet.

As I walk down to the church I am frantically trying to remember whether my poem has an expletives in it, as it might be cruel to ask someone to be reading Fuck out loud in the quiet of a church. When we get to the church it turns out that we are sitting in a side aisle in a circle of chairs. Of course being a church it is open to the public so from time to time during the afternoon odd members of the pubic popped in and out, I could not help wondering what they thought they might be interrupting. There are twelve of us this month and a good collection of new works. I feel reasonable today but I am anxious for a while till I discover there is a toilet in the church. It comes to my turn and I hear my poem read aloud and find myself surprised to hear the tempo at which it is read. I receive my feedback and then make my comments. Here is what I took, I’ve probably posted it before but for timeliness I repeat it.

449

Pull; pull; pull;
pull; pull; pull;
this is a man at war, 
trying to save himself. 
Pull; pull; pull.
This is the effort required 
to fend off chemo effects.
Every muscle, every joint
stretched and contracted
to keep the rhythm going.
Pull; pull; pull;
the metronome needs to tick 
there can be no stopping
until the clock runs down,
till the figures on the monitor
tell the story of kilometres,
of calories and strokes. 
Then and only then can it stop.
This is how the relentless malady 
is faced and challenged.
In every pull defiance,
In every pull conatus.
Pull; pull; pull.

449 17-06-2025

At five a clock a woman on a mobility scooter throws us out, but not before I buy the latest published pamphlet from one of the group and have her sign it. She is a well know poet and writes poetry that I could never write, so knowing how she approaches what she write and the work she puts into finding the right words and the effort to craft her work I appreciate the new poems.

With my new signed pamphlet tucked under my arm I recover my car and drive home to tea and an evening of quietly watching TV and reading. Of course there are the night meds to take, a finger splint to don and a nights sleep to get.

Sunday and I wake up and get myself going for the Sunday weight in. I come in at 101.2 kilos. This has been my average weight for sometime now so I am content this Sunday morning. After breakfast and some updating of the family calendar I take my car to the local garage and fill the tank and then I go and use the car wash for the first time. Its really three jet washes in one, so I put my time in, pay and then get to work on the car. After ten minutes my car is cleaner than its been for a while, unfortunately it shows up the dints, scratches and other blemishes. Back home my partner and I set to work on the garden, I prepare the area around where the new shed base in preparation for the new shed being delivered tomorrow. There is dead heading to do before lunch during which I start t draft the blog and watch the men’s final at Queens. As I do so I am also waiting for the first hard copies of my new poetry collection to arrive. Somewhere there is an Amazon delivery person working their way to wards me.

At last Amazon deliver copies of my new book and I eagerly open them. It is a special moment and immediately I know this book is much better than the Americans produced. Ruler’s Wit the new publishers have done a really good job. The feel and the look of the book is so much better. There has been some. moving around of the content and it feels so much better for it. Having now got the book I am eager to work with Ruler’s Wit again.

I decide to bite the bullet and to train so I get into my kit and go to the garage and the rower. I select a 45 minute session and get going. Its a fast and furious row, not a persona best but a really descent session, well over 9 kilometres.

After the session I record it in my journal and then change into comfortable clothes. Tea follows and then I continue the blog until its time to take my night meds and prepare for my 28 day jab in the morning. It will be a race against time as the new shed is coming at 11am and I will need to get everything back into the new shed before my injection site gets sore along with the other side effects. Its going to be a restless night.

Thursday and its the evening and I am here drafting the blog. I cannot face doing the usual “Thursday and I wake…”. So today I will just say that I spent part of my time sorting out the new poetry collection. The rest of the time I spent with my partner having my nails done in the same subtly sparkly way I did before and then took my partner to lunch. We raided M&S where I bought more short sleeve shirts on account of the heat and then came home to watch tennis.

By the evening I am hot and bothered and tired to the point where I cannot concentrate. I try to draft the blog, but the TV is on, and nobody is really watching it and I have a hot flush. I just had to get out of all the “noise” . So here I am laying on the bed trying to keep cool and calm and trying to draft the blog. Its one of those moments when it all comes on top and I have to retreat away from everybody and everything. I’m trying to drink a lot of fluid because tomorrow morning. I am having bloods done for Wednesdays oncology review. I am not confident it will go well given my rising PSA, my backache and the fact that the oncologist is seeing me in person. It just feels there is so much to control and keep hold of at the moment while trying to hold my own and move on. Writing this helps as I get stuff out of me into the world where I can see it and deal with it, my poetry does this to. I find being overwhelmed by the “noise ” distressing and I cannot afford to be like that. I shall try to relax for the rest of the evening and then take me night meds and sleep but not before remembering to change the latex cover for my scared finger as I wear my night finger splint. It is all this kind of stuff that has to be kept a grip of. It feels never ending and I do not know if anyone notices, which I suppose means it must be going well.

Wednesday and I wake early to my partner going to see her mother with her bother. I drink hot water and take my vitals, which are all good. I take my time getting up as it is warm but by 7:45 I am in text conversation with the publishers as there is a minor problem with the book. Apparently there is an issue over the text size on the spine of the book. There is some toing and froing and in the end we seem to get to a resolution. Once up I get into my training gear, take my morning meds and head for the garage and the rowing machine. Its five days since I last rowed so it has to be a meaningful session, I set the rower for an hour and set off. As I get into the session I begin to think about a poem that is forming and press on to the end of the session. By the end I am drenched in sweat and know I have worked hard. I retreat to the recliner and record the session in my journal and it is then that I realise that I have rowed a personal best. Bit of a surprise but a most welcome lift.

I take time to process the information and then return to the book text conversation which seems to be going well. I am still resting when my partner returns, so I make myself a late breakfast and join her in the sunshine on the patio. My back is aching and I am not sure what it is, rowing or something else? As I sit under the sunshade I write what came to me whilst I was rowing.

449

Pull; pull; pull;
pull; pull; pull;
this is a man at war, 
trying to save himself. 
Pull; pull; pull.
This is the effort required 
to fend off chemo effects.
Every muscle, every joint
stretched and contracted
to keep the rhythm going.
Pull; pull; pull;
the metronome needs to tick 
there can be no stopping
until the clock runs down,
till the figures on he monitor
tell the story of kilometres,
of calories and strokes. 
Then and only then can it stop.
This is how the relentless malady 
is faced and challenged.
In every pull, defiance,
In every pull, conatus.
Pull; pull; pull.

                                                      449  17-06-2025

My partner and I spend time potting up seedlings from the cold frame. Some are a bit leggy others more robust. We take a time out for a lolly break and as we do so the garden guy turns up. I am tired and hot so retreat to the recliner where I take paracetamol and begin to draft the days blog and prepare for the Webinar I am attending this evening for the publication of two poetry pamphlets by people I know.

Tuesday and I am exhausted this evening. Today I managed a shower and an early morning visit to the dentist, and lunch at the pub with my eldest daughter. There was a burst of energy when the people putting my book up on Amazon contacted me and later when I found it was in my cyber bookshelve being processed, but it will be 24 to 48 hours before it becomes available. As for the rest it was all about planting sunflowers out in a pot vacated by a pot bound Acer and sitting chatting to our guest for the evening by the warmth of the chimenea. So the world moves on, but for now all I can do is take my night meds and go to bed. It does not sound much but its all I’ve been able to manage today but now I am spoonless.

Monday and I wake to the sound of my youngest grandson having a bit if a morning cry. It does not last but it spurs me to get up, take my morning meds and eat bacon sandwiches with the family for breakfast. With that done its time for me and my youngest grandson’s father to get to work putting together the racking that I have bought for the new storage shed. There are three sets to put together and on opening the first box it looks like there are no instructions apart from a picture on the packaging. We set off putting the stuff together with the tiny hammer that was in the box until we come across a set of instructions slipped between the shelving boards. We make every mistake possible on the first set but by the time I have got the soft flooring mallet and WD40 from the garage we are flying. After a drinks and ice cream break we cruise through the work and by lunch time the racking is done and ready. The racks are placed up against the house to store them for the week and the shelves get put in the summer house for safe keeping. Ironically half way through the process there is a phone call from the shed supplier reminding me that I owe the half the cost of the new shed.

With the job done and the tools put away my grandson and his parents leave to journey home. My intention was to have a quiet afternoon to recover but I suddenly find myself ordering train tickets for my son and his family from London to Leicester for their visit from Sweden in a few days time. Apparently Swedish cards were not being accepted by the ticket agency. So I order the tickets and get them sent to my son. In the middle of this I start getting texts from my publishing folk at Ruler’s Wit as they get into my Amazon publishing account to load up The Cancer Years; Ordinary Brave. There is a lot of toing and froing but it seems we are almost there. There will be a slight delay before it becomes available on Amazon but it should not be long. My partner and I drive to the local garage to fill her new car with petrol and return just in time to receive the Tesco delivery.

Early evening arrives and I eat tea with the family and whilst doing so mend my partners i-watch with a tiny drop of super glue. In a final fling of energy I install the new squirrel feeder and then retreat to the recliner as my partner goes for her singing lesson and I start to draft the blog. Its going to be a slow evening as I have no energy left. The coming days are going to be trick as the dentist looms, we have a visitor for a night, and I have some bloods to be done alongside some other stuff to be done. June started out as an empty month and has got busier and busier. I am hoping that there is going to be a new poetry collection to give copies of to the oncology team on the 25th, then I can spend time with my sons family from Sweden.