Thursday, a good day, I slept well and wake ready for the day. First there are vitals to take, messages and emails to check and respond to before getting up. My vitals are good as is my memory, I get up ready to train. I slip down my morning meds and go to the garage and my faithful rower. Today is an hour session day. I get going to the accompaniment of Mark Steels in Town. It is difficult to know how it is going so I give myself up to listening and letting my body find its own rhythm, in this state my mind drifts to times that have found their way into my universe and stayed with me. Before I realise it the display says 0 minutes. I gather myself together and go and record the session. When I do this I find I have just rowed my best hour since I started to train again. Just goes to show how things can happen.
Being pleased with my effort I settle to the task of filling my drugs wallets for the next two weeks. There is a moment when I do not think I have enough cancer chemo to see me through to my next oncology review in December but when I check and do the maths I find I have ample to see me into the new year if needs be. Its a laborious job but in the long run it makes my life easier in terms of a daily meds routine. With my meds sorted I take a shower, a shower that includes hair. My hair is now four years long as I keep my word not to cut it after the first bout of chemo made my hair fall out. I am interested to see just how long it gets to, as long as possible hopefully, even as long as Hamza Yassin. Its good having long hair as I get my moneys worth out of the shower gel.
Once preened and dressed I head for the village café and have a very late, mid afternoon, sausage baguette breakfast, where I do the days crosswords and try to ignore the pages of depressing speculation about what a Trump presidency means. I turn quickly to the sports pages that are no more comforting. They are full of English loses and examples that show that footballers, professional footballers are a bit dim. Having finished all I can get out of the paper and eave dropping on the conversation that is going on I go home to clear the kitchen and draft the blog. There are messages to catch up on. My youngest grandson is back in hospital on oxygen, clearly a concern. Other friends are either traveling abroad or wrestling with the perturbations of life. All I can do is try to be supportive from a distance.
My evening heaves into view and my mind turns to the evenings entertainment, possible football or reading, but once again I will retreat to my bed early after my evening meds to try and keep my restorative life style going. I want to travel again, firstly to York to see friends and secondly abroad with my partner while I can, but I have to be fit to do this, hence my current determination to get myself fit and strong enough. Getting fit and loosing weight is not in itself fun but like all important things in life it is what choices it brings me.
