So here we go, its Monday, last day of the month and the day after a really lovely weekend. Now its back to battle and it would appear rain! My partner is up and reading to go to the gym so I do my vitals, which continue to be good, with that out of the way I set up Tesco delivery and then get up and pull on my training gear. I down my morning meds on the way to the garage and strap into the rower and set the session for an hour, if I am going to get fit and stave off the side effects of my cancer drugs then I need to push myself. So I set off and grind and grind and grind. By the end I am hot and sweaty but pleased with myself. I have done 10+k, that will do me, its 500 meters further than I did last time I rowed for an hour.

I record the session in my journal and notice that the garden swing seat cover has come loose so I venture out to find a zip left undone and an eyelet ripped free from its tether. I do a quick fix and return to the house to shower. Refreshed and clean I clear the kitchen, put my washing in just as my partner returns from the gym. We lunch together and chat and look at a possible showering aid for her mother. By the time I have finished with the tape measure and watching product videos it’s time to get my washing into the tumble dryer as the rain continues outside. My afternoon is then spent editing the third of The Cancer Years collections. The draft that I have been sent is a mess and I notice for the first time that the poem numbering was awry in the first two collections. This means I have to change the numbering font and some other content of some of the poems. I eventually get to the point where I have something to send to the Americans along with a somewhat terse email along the lines of “this is what I am supposed to be paying you for”. With my efforts winging there way to the project manager I start to draft the blog. There is washing to reclaim from the tumble dryer and the evening meal to have. No idea what the evening holds but I can feel myself flagging.

Evening turns out to be a binge watch of Joan and then night meds before bed. This period of time is a waiting game. I am waiting to see if my cancer pills bring down my PSA, nothing unusual there but now I am also waiting for the results of my heart scans and I have no idea how long it is going to take the radiography consultant to view the results and then write a report before sending it to the cardiologist, who will then decide when or if he is going to see me. So its all a bit up in the air at the moment. It’s just there are more balls in the air for this particular juggle.