Saturday was one of those days of great joy and deep fear. My seven month old grand son came to visit with his parents. That was deeply joyous. An additional bonus was the delivery of the new extra frim mattress, something that had been long in the wanting and acquiring. The deep fear was my worsening of blood in my urine and the frequency of going to painfully piss during the day. While the family went to the the local bird garden I stayed at home trying to rest and drinking water and taking paracetamol. I watch rugby, ate with the family and retreat to the sofa again for more rugby and TV feeling progressively crap. I went to bed with more paracetamol for a difficult and interrupted night, although I noticed the greater comfort of the new mattress.

Sunday, I check my vitals and they are normal. I am first up and make my partner and I warm drinks, my condition worsens as I have breakfast with the extended family and then wave them off by midday. By now I am feeling distressed, concerned and very shaky. I ring 111 and get through to an assessor who asks questions which I try to answer honestly. The out come is some texted advice and the assurance that a clinician from the out of hours service will ring me within an hour. I take paracetamol, drink more water and start to draft the blog. As I do this I get a call back from the after hours team, they have decided to send a team out to me, which will be with me in anything up to six hours. I am told to ring back if my symptoms get worse. So here I am waiting. I take a urine sample which is very red with blood. This is going to be a difficult day.

I do my best to calm myself down, to breathe and think positively, but it is difficult as it brings back memories of Jamaica and the trauma that brought. Of course it is not made any better by the fact that today is the anniversary of my sisters death. All I can do is wait. My partner packs me a bag in case I get taken to hospital. So now I wait. I will not post again today unless I suddenly get better. I concentrate on saving energy, being calm and trying to be rational.

I wait and eventually a paramedic arrives and assesses me. Abbey the paramedic has read my notes and knows more about me than I did or the oncologist has shared with me. I have thoughtfully taken urine samples that she tests and then she takes my vitals and askes more questions. After this process she tells me what she thinks is going on based on her assessment adn the reading of my notes. Apparently the tumours in my prostrate have invaded my bladder something the oncologist forget to tell me, which explains why I am getting blood in the urine. It also explains why at the oncology review the oncologist just passed it off as a normal part of my condition. The paramedic thinks we can in the short term manage the situation by stopping the blood thinning Apixaban for at least three days. She also prescribes an antibiotic to guard against any infection. If things get worse I can call 111 again. So I have a plan in the short term. The paramedic leaves and I settle down to drink more liquid and see the night through before I can start my antibiotics. So there you are, the battle takes a new turn, game on. So here I go, life got a little more focussed and a little less mundane.