Thursday and this is the first day of Cycle 25 of my chemo. I started it on the 10th of June 2023 so I am just four weeks and a bit off of being on the Enzalutamide for 2 years. Apparently this is good. Officially this drug is a nonsteroidal antiandrogen that inhibits the binding of testosterone to the androgen receptor. In theory this prevents the testosterone from stimulating the growth of cancer cells. In combination with the 28 day injections of Degarelix it seems be holding my metastatic prostate cancer at bay. The Degarelix is a hormone therapy, it is a gonadotropin -releasing hormone (GnRH)that works by preventing the pituitary gland from producing GnRH. It is GnRH that stimulates the testicles to produce testosterone, so by blocking it, Degarelix lowers testosterone levels in the body, which is also supposed to slow or stop the growth of prostate cancer that rely on testosterone.

Of course there are down sides to both these drugs. The list of common and possible side effects is huge but mostly fatigue, which is not surprising if I have no, or next to no, testosterone. Yet my oncologist keeps telling me that hard exercise is the best way to counter the side effects of the drugs. A neat catch 22. No testosterone so train hard! Bastard. But it explains why I continue to clamber on to the rowing machine and try to work up reasonable sweat. But not today, while my my partner is out for a walk with an old work colleague I plan to attack the garden, clear the access to the compost bin and remove the unsightly and falling apart green plastic greenhouse. First there is a fried egg sandwich to be eaten and morning meds to be had. Thursdays is the addition of my vitamin D tablet. Soon I shall rattle with all the pills I take.

Having clambered into my work trousers and got my feet into my “steely” boots I hit the garden and start to raise the skirts of the fir trees and clear the path to the composting heap in it is wooden crate. With that done I can prepare the top bed for my partner to start sowing a wild flower bed. As my partner returns form her walk I start to take down the old and shabby plastic green house. She joins in and fairly soon we have it down and bagged ready to go into the Hippo bag. By the time I’ve organised what is to go into the Hippo bag, what needs keeping till the new storage shed arrives and what is rubbish I am verging on the knackered. The last thing to do is put all the tools away and divest myself of my working clothes. Finally I can sit down and down a Red Bull and a Crunchie.

With everything away I take to the sofa and check my emails. I pay the deposit on the new garden storage unit that’s been ordered and I also get a response from the a publishing support organisation that I contacted. They are coming back to me next week, it would be nice to have a UK based support team rather than the Americans, but I guess there could be a down side. The Americans just wanted my money and were prepared to deliver for it, the Brits might be a bit more “fluffy”, we shall see.

So I head into the evening feeling pleased I’ve cleared the garden but also feeling that there are things I need to do, however I am tired an its a football night, so I shall watch a game and get an early night as tomorrow I shall be filling a Hippo bag and continuing to shape the garden, which means some rock moving. I also need to train, remember the testosterone and the chemo affects, that’s where the fight is.