Sunday and I wake in the spare bed as my sore gut had kept me awake last night and in an effort to get some sleep I changed beds. So I finally wake at about 9:30 and groggily return to the partnership bed. On the way to my return I weigh myself and to my surprise I find my 97.8 kilos represents a weight loss. Good start to the day. My partner and I drink coffee and chat for a while until we decide to get up for breakfast. To my partners dismay there is no bacon so she takes a trip to the shop. I run the hoover round before the family meeting on the patio for what turns out to be a very late breakfast. As we sit and chat we are joined by the squirrels who pop down to take peanuts from the feeder. They have clearly become accustomed to us.
We make the weekly face time call to our youngest daughter and make arrangements to visit her next weekend. My partner then goes off sandal shopping and I sort out the boxes of stuff that we brought back from the London house. It takes a long time to get things into groups and to photograph them. I send the pictures to my youngest so she can see what there is. I drop some stuff in the bins and note how good part of the front garden is looking. It seems this Spring is blooming beyond expectation, moving the iris last year was certainly the right thing to do.
I just finish my sorting and settle down to watch a football match. It is the last day of the season and demotion and European qualification is to be sorted out. The upshot is my home town Leicester get relegated and my favourite team the mighty Brentford beat the new champions but do not get European football next season. I take more pain killers as I’m not feeling so chipper still and wend my way to the evening meal. There is the usual Sunday stuff that forms the background wallpaper to my blog drafting. I shall watch the football highlights and put myself to bed hoping that by some miracle I will sleep.
It’s getting tiring and I am getting fed up with this state I am in. I am sore and irritable, lacking energy and inspiration. In fact thoroughly fucked off. I assume it is a mixture of my anxieties about my cancer, the coming oncology review, my lack of energy and inability to sleep well. The night sweats are continuing to be a pain. I thought I would throw that in for good measure. The problem is that it’s difficult to fight what you can’t fight, when its your own body that is out witting the medical profession, when your own cell biochemistry is adapting faster than the medicine can counter. Of course the medicine has no adaptive ability, it just does what it does until it gets out manoeuvred by my clever, adaptive and self destructive cell chemistry. So where is the battle ground to be? It always comes back to the same things; stay fit, eat reasonably, take the medicine, feed my brain, be kind and value family and friends.
