Friday and I wake up groggily and then realise that its vampire day. My partner brings me coffee in bed which I snooze to coldness before getting up and selecting clothes that give easy access to my arm veins. I down my morning meds and plod off to the GP surgery in a bright but very frosty morning. I check in and get called immediately. In the blink of an eye my blood is in a labelled vial and I am walking home.
Once home I while away a few minutes until I know the village café will be open and then I go to buy a paper and make my way to the café. The full breakfast is great. I sit in the sunny window seat so that I get a grandstand few of the near misses on the village roundabout. They are frequent today as the winter sun rifles in at a low angle to blind 50% of drivers approaching the roundabout. The tooting of horns and mutterings of disapproval by fellow diners is frequent this morning. I do the crosswords in the paper and luxuriate in the deliciousness of cooked for breakfast. It has a very nurturing, caring feel about it, a kind of kindness to the self. I return home buying potatoes and flower on the way.
Once home I find a letter waiting for me. I put flowers in a vase and then settle down to read my letter. It is one of the pleasures of my life to read a letter from a friend and it deserves the proper time and attention to be paid to it. I especially love letters that point me in the direction of brain food and this letter did just that. I have some busy learning ahead of me. New poems arrive for Saturday’s Stanza meeting. I print them off and put them in my “Stanza” file ready for Saturday. I take time to read them and see if there are any that grab me enough to volunteer to read them. I reread my own contribution, I am just pleased I will not have to read it as I have no idea how to pronounce the German in it. In the Stanza meeting your poetry gets read by someone else and then the group respond to it while you listen. Only when they have had their say can you then speak. I have at least corrected the version I sent and removed the spelling mistake so that Haifisch is now spelt properly. For those that missed it on the 20th of December here it is again.
AS I PRESS ONE FOOT AFTER ANOTHER IN THE GYM I SENSE THE RHYTHM THAT TOOK ME, MARATHONED ME AND TOLD ME YOU’RE ALIVE. I REACH FOR THAT FEELING LIKE A LOVERS ARMS AROUND ME, I NEED SALVATION AS I FIGHT TO STAY ALIVE. I STRIDE ON RAMMSTEIN LOUD IN MY EARS HAIFISCH HAIFISCH HAIFISCH DRIVNG ME PERPETUALLY MOVING TO STAY ALIVE, I AM AFRAID IN THIS STRUGGLE. HAIFISCH HAIFISCH HAIFISCH IN DER TIEFE ES EINSAM IN THE DEEP IT IS LONELY SO DIE TRANEN SIEHT MAN NICHT SO NO ONE CAN SEE THE TEARS.
All of this came to me when I was on the cross trainer with Rammstein very loud in my ears. There is a a driving rhythm to the piece and the two quoted lines were the ones that stuck in my mind. It all seemed to fit the feeling at the time. It was not until I researched the spelling and the translation that I learned Haifisch means Shark or that the lines that had stuck with me actually fitted the context of what I had written. My good old unconscious can always be trusteed to do right by me when it comes to poetry. I can’t wait for somebody to read it and then what the group make of it. For you alone I will tell you. Its actually about being alone and scared in the fight to stay alive in the face of cancer. If you don’t keep moving (like a shark) you die. However like all my other poetry it ain’t ever going to win a competition or get published, at least not until I get my finger out and push that project forward.
I retreat to the Shed to write letters and think about training today. My Shed is always a welcoming space and I settle down to write letters and update my correspondence journal. I spend a couple of hours writing and then return to the house and wander over to the post box to send my letters. Back in the warmth of my lounge I watch more of the Sandman series as my motivation to train today ebbs away. I slide into the evening and watch TV and a rugby match simultaneously before returning to the blog. Its all a distraction as I wait to see if my blood results will come through tonight. Its always the same at this time before an oncology review, a mixture of curiosity and foreboding that things will change for the worse. Behind that is the irritating question as to whether or not the medical profession has any new magic if it turns out that things are getting worse. First things first, the blood results tonight and then move on. Tomorrow will see me at the poetry Stanza hoping that someone else reads my Shark.
