Tuesday and I wake up in the Ragdale spar and realise that I have about 20 minutes before breakfast arrives. Two people arrive bearing trays of our pre-ordered breakfast. So the day starts in style as we look out of our window over the surrounding countryside.

So the day starts and I am well pleased with my choice of breakfast. So in a short time the trays are cleared of their content.

My partner and I get ourselves ready for our “treatment”. We go down to the “treatment” centre and wait huddled in our fluffy white gowns until our names get called by our personal treatment person. What followed was delicious. My legs and back are exfoliated and then gently massaged with a lavender oil. Back done I turn over and have my front done. Finally I receive a foot massage. I end up in a kind of stupor and wander off to find my partner after her treatment. We go for coffee and I am decidedly fluffy and mellow. I’m so taken with the feeling that my partner goes off and books me a repeat for tomorrow morning. Touch is a wonderful thing.

Early lunch is order of the day once we have taken a bit of time to laze and read. Lunch is healthy and tasty and we are soon planning another coffee. Lunch has to settle before I can go to the gym but to the gym I do go. I get a rowing machine, a more sturdy affair than mine in the garage with a longer pull. I go for a 45 minute session, which I regretted after the first ten minutes but I persisted with the beast and end up making the time.

I wonder around the gym and try to cool down. Its a while before I get to the point I can gather myself to take a selfie and return to the room to change.

I get changed into some swim wear and my partner and I head for the infinity pool on the roof where we soak and look over the countryside. There is time for coffee and cake before a final sit by the pool and time spent reading. The evening is spent having dinner and once I’ve retreated to the room I start to do more death admin in trying to take the arrangements for my sisters funeral forward. I end up creating a Powerpoint presentation in order to get the material into some sort of sensible order. By the time this is done its time to draft the blog. Its going to be an early to sleep night, with the usual night meds taken. I am tired and need to get to the funeral and then focus on getting ready for my assessment for radiotherapy. The remaining delay of nine weeks before that assessment takes place is beginning to rankle with me. It feels like I am being made to mark time while I know my PSA level is rising. It feels like fiddling while Rome burns, certainly a lack of urgency. I cannot help but feel there is a sense of doing me a favour and that I should be grateful that I’m even being considered, so any delay should be tolerable. It seems to me the medical profession is content to tell itself that its saving a life, while I am concerned to live a life.